The Fangover (The Fangover 1)
“That’s right,” Cort said, trying to sound conversational, almost friendly, which was no easy feat with this man. “You were at our ‘reception.’ Did you notice anything weird last night?”
“Weirder than the fact that sweet, beautiful Katie Lambert was interested in you?” The bald, tattooed man rubbed his chin, pretending to think. “Nope, I can’t say that I do.”
Cort’s teeth ached and he knew he had to leave before he reacted more, but before he could even turn away from the man, Raven added, “I can tell you this much though, if I’d turned over that sweet thing, I’d be taking a lot better care of her. Not letting her roam the streets without me.”
“Oh, really?” Cort said, that common desire to punch this twit filling him, full force.
“Damned right. If I was going to make the effort to cross her over, I’d also make the effort to keep her close.”
Drake stepped forward, as if he could sense that Cort wanted to throw this poser with his silly tattoos and Goth clothing against the side of the bar.
But Cort managed to keep himself composed, except for his hands, which were painfully balled into fists at his sides.
“Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t think you could make that kind of commitment, Raven.”
“To sweet, lovely Katie?” Raven made a face that could only be described as lascivious. “I’d give it a shot. One thing is for sure, I’d definitely keep her in my bed for a good long time. After all, she is a brand-new vampire, and she has a lot to learn.”
Cort stepped forward, even as he told himself to ignore the ass**le’s taunts. Common sense told him that Raven was just trying to get him going, because he’d wanted Katie for himself, but still he wanted to hurt the dickhead for even thinking about taking his Katie to bed. Much less keeping her there.
You hadn’t been able to keep her there.
Even that made him want to hit Raven. But Drake stepped directly between them.
“No point wasting your energy,” Drake said, meeting Cort’s eyes, trying to get him focused elsewhere rather than on Raven’s damned smug face.
Cort glared past Drake anyway, but eventually calmed. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
“Good luck finding her,” Raven called after them. “Here’s hoping someone else doesn’t beat you to her.”
Cort spun back, ready to fight again at the implication of his words.
“Don’t bother, man,” Drake said. “He’s just pissed because Katie never noticed him. He’s playing stupid mind games. It’s all he’s got.”
Cort pulled in a deep breath and nodded. They headed down the street again, and Cort pretended he couldn’t hear Raven’s arrogant laughter as they walked away.
“What do you want to do?” Drake asked when they had a good block between them and Raven.
“Let’s just go to Fahy’s,” Cort said. “I’ll call Wyatt and see what’s going on with them. Maybe they’ve seen Katie.”
“Okay,” Drake said, clearly willing to go anywhere as long as a drink was involved.
“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke.”
And the parrot felt the same way. For once, everyone was in agreement.
* * *
“CRACKED MY HEAD open?” Katie automatically touched her fingers to her head. She was startled to feel a rather large indentation on the back of her skull. She dropped her hand.
“Yes, you were onstage performing with the band, and you and Cort were singing . . . ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ I believe it was.”
“As in Elton John?”
“Yes.”
Katie pondered that. “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” was hardly the usual Bourbon Street fare. She was surprised the band even knew it. But it did go right along with all the other weirdness.
“Somehow you backed up and got caught on some of the wires on the stage. You fell and hit your noggin just right on the corner of one of the amps. Blood everywhere. It was really quite gruesome.”
Gruesome? To a vampire? That was saying something.
“I died from hitting my head on an amp?” Now talk about a death you didn’t want to brag about at the Pearly Gates.
“Like I said, you most certainly would have died. Or worse, if Cort hadn’t scooped you up and taken care of you.”
“Or worse?”
Nigel smiled indulgently. “Not all vampires are as sensitive as Cort and his gang. There were vamps on that boat that might have seen you as an unexpected smorgasbord.”
Katie grimaced.
“Not all vampires are as decorous as I am.”
It was good to know Nigel hadn’t seen her as a free appetizer either.
“We couldn’t have made it back to the shore and gotten you to a hospital before you’d have passed. You were bleeding too heavily. Cort made a judgment call, because he cares for you. I hope you aren’t angry with him.”
“No,” she said automatically. No, she wasn’t angry with him about the bite, she never had been. She knew some people might be, but she’d known deep down inside that if it had been Cort who’d bitten her, he’d have done it only for a very good reason.
She had trusted that.
But that wasn’t what grabbed Katie’s attention. It was another thing Nigel said.
“What do you mean, he cares about me?”
Nigel gave her another indulgent smile. “Girl, surely you have seen the way Cort has been pining for you. Everyone who works on Bourbon Street knows it.”
Katie shook her head, stunned by his words. She could have understood if he said she’d been the one pining and everyone knew it, because, boy, had she ever pined.
“And you’ve carried a torch for him, too, haven’t you, Katie-Katie?”
She found herself nodding, just because she was stupefied by his insight.
“So you could imagine how pleased many of us were to see him willing to save you. That’s a strong bond, you know.”
Katie continued to gape at him, unable to do anything else.
Nigel stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess the people involved are sometimes the last to know.”
Could that be true? Could she have misunderstood his reaction to the news of their nonexistent marriage? She certainly had trusted Cort with her life and her undeath. Yet she hadn’t even given him a chance to explain his feelings. Just because he didn’t want to be married, didn’t mean he didn’t have feelings for her. After all, most people did explore their feelings before the bonds of matrimony.