Immortal Craving
Read the Excerpt
Bay sprinted out the doorway and around the corner, then skidded to a halt in the small waiting area. Grimm had stopped barking, but moved quickly to place himself between her and the man on the floor, using his big, warm body as a barricade.
“Bay,” Shelby breathed as she hurried around the counter to join her, the pink streaks in her dark hair matching the shade staining her cheeks. “He just stumbled in here and passed out! Do you think he’s a druggie or something?”
Bay was silent for a moment, staring at the figure of a man spread-eagled in a wild scatter of shampoo bottles in the middle of the room. He’d taken out her new display in his fall. Even the quickest glance told her he was likely way too young for a heart attack, but then again, weirder things had happened.
The thought of him dying on her floor while she gawked lit a fire under her.
“We may need to call nine-one-one,” Bay said. She pushed around Grimm with effort, rushing to the man’s side and crouching down. He was on his stomach, and only his profile was visible. She knew instantly she’d never seen him before.
Grimm joined her, pressing against her shoulder as he leaned down to give the man a wary sniff. His tail, always an indicator of his mood, was a stiff flag behind him. The dog gave a low, unhappy moan.
Bay leaned closer, inhaling. No booze—all she caught was an intriguing hint of spice that was very…male. Good cologne, she guessed, then pushed the thought away. Seeing a hint of movement, the unmistakable rhythm of breathing, sent relief coursing through her along with a whole lot of adrenaline. He wasn’t dead. A junkie, maybe, though he didn’t have that look about him.
Or maybe he’s just sick.
Her eyes flickered over his face again, just quickly enough for her to register that he was far from sickly-looking. Actually, he was gorgeous.
“Sir?” she asked loudly, shaking him by the shoulders. “Sir, can you hear me?”
A soft groan indicated he was coming to…she hoped.
“Sir, if you can hear me, I’m calling an ambulance right now. We’ll get you some help.”
Bay gestured to Shelby, who headed back for the counter, and the phone. Bay had only begun to turn her head back towards the man when he shot to his feet in a scatter of shampoo bottles, moving so quickly she barely knew what was happening. There was a whisper of air against her cheek, and then he was on his feet, backing away from where she crouched. His hand was at his temple, and he winced as though his head hurt.
Bay rose quickly to her feet, a protective hand on her dog as he once again put himself between her and the stranger with a volley of deep, threatening barks.
The man’s eyes moved quickly from the dog to the mess, and then to the two women staring at him wide-eyed. He spat a word in a language Bay didn’t understand, then held out one hand as the other fell away from his temple.
“Please…a moment. I’m not going to hurt you.”
His voice was silken, a warm tenor no less commanding for its softness. His accent was a blend, faintly British but with an exotic lilt.
“You need to leave,” Shelby said, her voice shaking.
“Shelby,” Bay said softly, a gentle reproach. Whatever was wrong here, freaking out on their part was not going to help it. When she turned her head to look at her friend, however, she could see something was very wrong. Shelby had gone sheet white, her dark eyes huge as she stared at the man’s face.
“Shelby,” she said more sharply, hoping to draw her attention away. The look on her friend’s face wasn’t one she’d ever seen before…or ever wanted to see again.
“His…eyes…” Shelby whispered.
Bay turned her head sharply to look at him, and when his eyes locked with hers, she finally understood.
The guy who’d just wrecked her shampoo display wasn’t human. Not even close.
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