The sound of a vehicle on the street drew his attention away from her. He turned to listen. The car stopped outside the house.
He glanced at Juliet. Her eyes were wide as she drew close. The tunnel house was owned by a vampire couple who wanted to help. They were both intelligent and wouldn’t have arranged for any kind of delivery or service appointment at the same hour Brannick was working to get another group of humans into the tunnel.
His heart pounded in his chest. He could hear steps up the walk, a man’s stride.
He followed the sounds, turning his body with each footstep. He drew his Glock, then extended his hearing. The doorbell rang and he listened hard. Carl, the owner, asked, “Can I help you?”
When he heard the stranger’s voice, he cursed softly.
Juliet tapped his telepathy. You recognize him, don’t you?
He glanced at her, surprised that she could communicate mind-to-mind. The woman had power.
He dipped his chin once. He’s corrupt. This isn’t good.
What’s he saying? I can only hear a mumbling sound and you vampires have much sharper hearing than the rest of us.
He’s asking about me. He’s saying I told him I was headed over here. But Carl is playing it smart. He says he only met me once in a pool hall near some Chinese Restaurant east of Rotten Row. He doesn’t know why I’d say I was coming to his house. The officer is pressing him, but he’s not getting anywhere, thank God.
He felt Juliet’s hand on his arm. She was trembling.
He held her gaze. Hold steady. We’re still okay.
She squeezed his arm. I know.
Our host is shutting the door. The officer is moving away.
The man’s footsteps echoed all the way down the walk. A moment later, the vehicle roared to life and a few seconds later rumbled down the street.
“Oh, thank God.” Juliet turned into him and as though he’d done it a thousand times, he surrounded her with both arms. She shook from head to foot. With his heart slamming around in his chest as well, he wasn’t doing much better.
If things had gone south, he would have been forced to kill the man and the gunshots would have been reported. He was grateful it hadn’t come to that.
Juliet pulled out of his arms. “Sorry, Brann. But that was a close one.” She put a hand to her chest. “My heart is racing.”
He stared at her. Wait a minute. Had she just called him ‘Brann’? No one called him that. His wife had when they’d been married, but no one else and definitely no one in Five Bridges.
A sudden dizziness hit him hard. He stepped away from Juliet. He could barely keep himself upright and stumbled sideways.
He felt her hand on his shoulder. “Brann, what’s wrong?”
There it was again. ‘Brann.’
He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t think. He didn’t know what was going on.
Then suddenly, the erotic dream from earlier exploded through his mind, only this time in full color, every sensual detail and smell and taste hitting him like a Tsunami. It hadn’t been an ordinary dream after all.
Juliet was under him and he had his fangs buried in her neck, tasting blood that wasn’t blood. The sounds of her moans pushed him on, drove him harder. He wanted her to come.
He’d said things to her, wicked things. Her hands moved over his back. ‘Brann.’
She’d called him Brann in the dream.
A dream that was more than a dream.
Regaining his balance, he stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest all over again. The reality of what must have really happened struck him hard, like a hammer between the eyes.
“Juliet, what the fuck have you done to me?”