American Vampire. Jennifer Armintrout

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СКАЧАТЬ she called out to him, not sure if she meant to stop him entirely or just stop him from going up. “He’s in the basement.”

      “Why would you keep him in the basement?” Derek moved with equal determination toward the kitchen.

      First he didn’t want the guy in her house at all, then he wanted her to be putting him in plush accommodations? She rolled her eyes, glad Derek could see her. She didn’t have the energy for a fight about her “tone.” “It was the only place I felt safe keeping him.”

      “Don’t you worry about safe,” Derek reassured her. “I’m about to make sure this creep doesn’t lay a finger on you.”

      Yeah, from one creep to another, she thought, but she still had to squash a spark of triumphant feminine pride as she followed him down the basement steps.

      Four

      Waking to the disturbing sensation of not knowing where he was or why he was there, Graf sat up on the rickety cot. Someone was coming toward him, but his vision hadn’t cleared enough for him to make out who. He did know that he was naked, and he didn’t want that kind of vulnerability. He put a hand out to reach for his jeans and started to stand.

      Someone yelled, “Whoa!” and someone else yelled, “Don’t get up!”

      He rubbed his eyes. His skin was on fire, and he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. He was thirsty, parched, in fact. He needed to eat somebody. “What time is it?”

      “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in Jessa’s basement?”

      Graf cracked one eye, but the brightness of the basement made it difficult to focus. “Could you cover that window over there?” He hadn’t seen sunlight in thirty years—at least, not willingly.

      “Hungover?” the male voice asked, kicking the leg of the cot, and Graf put his arms out to keep from tipping over.

      “Jesus, Derek, we’re not interrogating a suspect! He’s allergic to the sun. Put that gun away!” The woman from last night—Jessa, apparently—scrabbled through the boxes and camp gear in the corner and eventually found something to block the light from the dirty, ground-level window. A deflated pool raft stuffed into the hole covered the glass, filtering the light through thick blue vinyl.

      The male voice spoke again. “Allergic to the sun? That sounds like something a vampire would say in a vampire movie.”

      Very astute. His vision clearing, Graf examined the guy, who certainly did not look like the astute type. Derek, Jessa had called him. A lot of new, human names to remember that he didn’t care to remember. Derek had a college emblem on the hat he wore and a T-shirt with a varsity football logo on it that screamed, I didn’t willingly leave my high school days behind. He looked strong. Small-town strong. Farm-chores strong. Not strong enough to take Graf in a fight. He might not win, but he’d sure put up one, and the last thing Graf wanted was any kind of hard work. Derek slipped a handgun into the back of his jeans. That was another thing Graf didn’t want to deal with.

      Jessa stood beside him, not close enough to tell Graf that they were lovers, but close enough that it was apparent they once had been.

      “What’s his name?” Derek asked, and Graf let the woman falter for a little bit before he looked up.

      “His name is Graf. He was trying to sleep after he was attacked by a monster last night.” Graf rubbed his eyes again. “What is it, 8:00 a.m.?”

      “It’s one in the afternoon,” Jessa snapped. “And you weren’t the only one running from a monster last night.”

      “I was the only one saving you. I guess I thought that would be good enough reason to let me sleep in!” He thought about standing up and choking her, but then he would be the only naked person in the room, and he tried to avoid that whenever possible.

      “Okay, both of you, shut up.” Derek gave Graf what was supposed to be a threatening look, but really just made him look like an angry gorilla.

      “Now, listen, Graf.” He leaned on the name like it was an accusation. “I don’t know where you came from—”

      “Detroit.” Graf pushed his fingers through his hair. “You can stop your tough-guy act. I’m not going to cause any trouble.” That you’ll be able to do anything about.

      “You’re in my girl’s house. You scared the shit out of her, and you pissed me off. You’ve already ‘caused any trouble.'” Derek gave the distinct impression that if Graf had been wearing a shirt, he would be yanking him up by the front of it. It was a good thing he’d turned down Sophia’s offer to pierce his nipples.

      Graf filed the “my girl” remark in the back of his mind, for later use. If Sophia had taught him anything, it was that the most effective injury to inflict was to an opponent’s pride. Maybe he would sleep with Jessa, after all.

      He leaned his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang between his bare legs. “This isn’t just an inconvenience for you guys. I don’t want to be stuck in some podunk town forever. If I could redo last night, I wouldn’t have gotten all turned around in Cleveland. I damn sure wouldn’t have stopped here.”

      “Well, you’re not here forever. You’re just here until you die.” Derek cracked his knuckles, probably imitating some mobster he’d seen in a movie. “You get my draft?”

      “It’s drift, you moron.” Graf lay back down on the cot. At sundown, if Corn-fed was still hanging around with his stupid tough-guy act, Graf was going to drain him dry. At the very least, he would be doing Jessa a favor. If this was the kind of guy she really went for, it would probably be doing her a favor to kill her, too.

      “What did you just call me?” Derek demanded, his voice dripping with unspent testosterone.

      Graf didn’t bother to open his eyes. “I’m too tired to repeat it. Come back later.”

      From the sound of Jessa’s feet shuffling on the dirt floor and the rapid-fire, “No, no, no!” she uttered, Graf knew Derek had lunged for him, and that most likely Jessa had held him back. Though it took considerable effort not to sit up and rip out the guy’s windpipe right then and there, Graf restrained himself. It would be better if he waited, until the sun went down and he had a place to hide the bodies.

      “That son of a bitch has a big problem on his hands now, a big problem.” Derek swore, his voice accompanied by the creaking of the stairs.

      When the door slammed, Graf sat up and pulled on his jeans. He cocked his head to listen to the muffled conversation upstairs.

      “You can’t just go around punching people!” Jessa had a different angry voice with Derek than she’d had with Graf the night before. There was more frustration invested in it. That was interesting.

      “There’s something weird about that guy, and I don’t like it!”

      “It doesn’t matter if you like it! It’s not like he can leave!” There was a strained silence, and Graf imagined the two humans staring at each other, daring each other to try for the last word.

      “And … go,” Graf prompted quietly.

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