Sunglasses at Night (Claws Clause 3)

It was taking it from Tabitha.

And that scared the ever-loving hell out of him.

Something was wrong—really wrong—and he didn’t have half a clue what it was. He just knew that he’d do whatever he could for another taste of her blood. And, since that was absolutely impossible, he had to figure out what to do next, instead.

It was another reason why he hated being a turned human. Apart from the Dayborn nurse who tried to explain to him what his new life—well, death—would be like when he was still in Grayson General, there were only a few people he could ask when something weird was going on.

After a week, he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He went to see Deb.

Deborah St. Claire was a Dayborn vamp, the first one to move to the settlement that became the Bumptown where Colton Wolfe lived with his witch mate and his ghostly pal, Dodge McCoy.

He’d met her for the first time late last year, when Colt was still being a jackass. He wanted to prove that the human Adam couldn’t spot a vamp out of a crowd so he brought him down to meet Debbie.

Dayborns had a born talent that Nightwalkers didn’t. With one look in their eyes, they could compel you to do anything. Before Colt called her off, Adam was halfway to offering his throat to the female, snared by her magic.

Surprisingly, since then they’d actually become friends. Mainly because Deb was friendly with everyone, and Adam needed someone who knew what it was like to be a vampire, even if she wasn’t a Nightwalker.

As he jogged toward her house—the one with the black roses out front and the Lair, Sweet, Lair banner hanging over the garden—he thought he caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of his eye. He froze, hunching, ready to reach for the dagger at his ankle.

Eyes searched the darkness.

He was in Sunset Boulevard, the Dayborn part of the Bumptown. Since the born vampires were capable of facing the sun, they kept a diurnal schedule. This late, no one else was around but Adam and, after a few tense moments when he relied on his senses, he rose back to his full height again before leaping onto Debbie’s porch.

He knocked, hoping that he got to her before she turned in for the night. After a few minutes, the light in the front room flickered on. The door swung open.

“My, my, my… What a nice surprise to find you lurking on my doorstep.”

“Good to see you, too, Deb.”

Debbie was a buxom blonde, with big hair, big hips, and a big personality. She often smiled, never hiding her fangs, and she ushered him in with a boisterous, “Come on in, hun, I was just pouring myself some blood wine. I’ll get you a goblet.”

Unlike Nightwalkers, who needed the stuff to survive, Dayborns were more elegant in their blood consumption. No blood bags for Deb. She sipped on blood wine, and would never be caught dead at a Bloodbucks.

He knew better than to refuse. He accepted the fancy glass with the wide-mouthed cup, setting it in front of him as he joined Debbie at the ornate table she kept just for guests in her parlor.

“So, Adam, honey. What do I owe to the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

They’d had enough of these chats over the last few months that, while Deb loved to play the hostess, she knew that he was the kind of guy who didn’t beat around the bush.

“What do you know about slayers?”

The words just slipped out. Definitely not what he meant to say. His main concern had everything to do with the way his Nightwalker body had turned on him ever since meeting Tabitha.

Then again…

Deb lifted her goblet, waiting until Adam picked his up and clinked it against hers. Cheers. After taking a dainty sip, she told him, “They’ll kill you so much as look at you if you’re not human. Why do you ask?”

Because he bit a slayer and lived to see another sunset, that’s why.

He shook his head. “No reason. I just heard a rumor they’re in my city. Thought I’d get your opinion on them.”

“Oh, they’re always sneaking around. They’re worse than Ants, let me tell you.”

Ants. The way Paras referred to humans.

Adam forced his lips to curve into a smile of agreement, even if he hated the dismissive name. Not long ago, Deb would’ve been referring to him like that.