Chapter Seven
Utah prowled along the murky banks of Black Creek, fighting like hell to silence the insistent screaming inside his head.
He gritted his teeth, resisting the nausea that rolled through him. Even though he could never actually empty the contents of his ghostly stomach any more than he could stop the screams.
In fact, the only time his mind experienced relief was after he saved a life.
Utah would never understand how he managed to find the energy it took to drag someone from a burning building, an overturned car, or other accident. He only knew that he could.
Nothing else had ever stopped the tormented screams but saving a life. Until he’d met Michelle Collins. Not once had he heard the voices while in Michelle’s presence.
He’d lain in her bed last night, feeling her hands touch his skin, her breath on his face. He’d inhaled her sweet scent in wonder. It was the first time he’d smelled anything other than smoke since his death. No other voices could be heard but Michelle’s.
Utah glanced down in disbelief as his shaft rose to life inside his pants. That made twice he’d had an erection within twenty-four hours.
I’m a spirit, Utah thought without humor. How in bloody hell do I have an erection?
He considered returning to Michelle’s home but quickly discarded the idea. The last thing he needed to do was grow an attachment to her or ruin her life by haunting her.
Yet the longer he stood there, thinking about her, the more desperate to see her he became.
Closing his eyes, he willed himself back to her house.
Utah stilled as she suddenly stepped outside, locked the door behind her, and strolled to her car.
His dead heart skipped a beat as he took in her attire. She wore a short white skirt that showed off her tanned legs and a pink flowy top.
Oblivious to his presence, she slid behind the wheel of her car and started the engine.
Utah willed himself into the back seat, unable to bear watching her leave. He’d sit back there all night if that’s what it took to be near her.
Her scent floated around inside the car, alluring in its sweetness.
He could only stare at her face in the rearview mirror and breathe her in. She was the most intoxicating female he’d ever encountered.
She reached up and turned on the stereo, scanning the different stations before stopping on an old Rick Springfield song.
Utah’s lips twitched. He hadn’t heard that song since before his death.
Michelle backed out of the drive and drove slowly along her street until reaching the main road.
She obviously hadn’t sensed his presence in the car, else she would have never done what he knew she was about to do.
Turning up the music, Michelle tapped her fingers against the steering wheel and belted out the next line of “Jessie’s Girl.”
It was all Utah could do not to laugh. Yet the longer he listened to her sing, the more he realized she had a voice as beautiful as the rest of her.
She sang the entire rest of the song, word for word, thumping her fingers on the wheel to the beat.
Utah hadn’t enjoyed himself this much for as long as he could remember.
A couple minutes later, Michelle turned off the main road and pulled into a parking space in front of Scruples.
She switched off the car, opened the door, and got out.
Utah followed, staying close as she strode up the steps and entered the nice establishment. He wondered why he’d never eaten there when he’d been alive.
The hostess looked up from behind a small counter as the door closed behind Michelle. “Good evening, miss. Will you be dining alone?”
“I’m meeting friends,” Michelle pointed out with a smile. She glanced around, apparently searching for her dinner dates. “There they are.”
With a nod, the hostess returned her smile. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you.” Michelle turned toward her right and made a beeline for a pretty blonde across the room, sitting with a dark-haired man whose gaze seemed to look right through Michelle and straight at Utah.
Come to think of it, the blonde’s eyes were locked on to Utah as well.
Utah faltered, slowing his steps until he stopped in the center of the room.
They saw him. The couple at the table could see him.
The dark-haired gentleman slowly got to his feet, greeted Michelle, and then skirted the table to saunter in Utah’s direction.
“Outside,” the stranger demanded in a low tone as he strode past Utah.
Utah turned and followed, more curious than anything as to how the man knew he was there.
“You can see me?” Utah rushed out the second the dark-haired gentleman exited the restaurant and stopped on the sidewalk.
The stranger didn’t answer. Instead, he jerked his chin toward the corner of the building.
Without question, Utah trailed behind him to the back of the establishment.
“Who are you and why are you following Michelle?” the stranger hissed immediately in Utah’s face.
Utah instantly realized the stranger wasn’t human. He had no idea how he knew—he only knew that he did.
Instead of answering him, Utah threw back a question of his own. “What are you?”
The stranger’s lips peeled back over his fangs. He gripped Utah by the shirt, yanking him in close. “Your worst nightmare.”
“You’re a vampire,” Utah breathed in awe. “I thought vampires were a myth.”
The stranger narrowed his eyes. “Do I look like a fucking myth to you?”
That pissed Utah off. He jerked free of the vampire’s hold, but didn’t back up an inch. “What does it matter to you why I’m here?”
“Cherokee happens to be a friend of mine,” the vampire snarled, his fangs right back in Utah’s face. “She might not know you’re there, but I do,” he emphasized with a shove. “And I have no problem sending you back to hell where you came from.”
The blonde that had been seated next to Mr. Fang Face suddenly stepped around the corner. “What the hell is going on here, Malik?”
Malik kept his gaze locked on Utah. “Just warning Casper here to stay away from Michelle.”
The pretty blonde cocked her head to the side. “Have you bothered asking him why he’s following her in the first place?”
The one known as Malik folded his arms over his chest. “I was getting to that.”
“Mmm-hmm,” the blonde muttered sarcastically. “Sure you were.”
She then turned to face Utah. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. He’s very overprotective at times. I, on the other hand, will allow you to explain yourself before ripping into you. So, start talking.”
Utah could only stare, slack mouthed. “You’re like him.” He nodded in Malik’s direction.
“I have fangs, yes. But that’s where the similarities end,” she finished, sending her husband a wink.
Utah decided he liked Michelle’s friend. “May I ask who you are?”
“I’m Cassandra,” she immediately answered. “But most everyone calls me Cassie. And that giant of a nightmare ready to rip out your intestines is my husband, Malik.”
Glancing toward Malik, Utah briefly nodded before returning his attention to Cassie. “My name is Utah Baines. I mean Michelle no harm. You have my word. She—”
“Your word means nothing to us,” Malik interrupted, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
Cassie’s hands went to her hips, and she sent her husband an exasperated look. “Would you let him finish, love? I’m kind of curious to see what he has to say.”
Utah blew out an exasperated sigh. “I originally met Michelle via telephone. I’d called the 911 line a few months back about a house fire.”
Cassie touched him on the arm. “Wait a minute. That was you? You called 911 and told them about seeing a blonde leaving the house with a dark-haired gentleman?”
“How did you know about that?” Utah inquired, more than a little surprised.
Malik answered for her. “Because she was the blonde you saw leaving that house, asshole. Why would you call 911 about a house fire if you’re a ghost?”
Utah had had just about enough of Malik’s mouth. He stepped in close to the vampire’s face. “Because, that’s what I do, moron. I save lives. Being dead doesn’t change who you are inside. You should know that, vampire. The only difference between you and me is you need blood to survive, and I don’t. We’re both dead.”
“He’s not here to hurt Cherokee,” Cassie informed Malik, pushing her hands between the two of them. “Let’s not make a problem where one doesn’t exist.”
Relaxing his stance, Utah sent Cassie an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about that. And you’re right. I’m not here to hurt your friend. I honestly can’t tell you why I am here. I only know that Michelle’s the one person who has been able to see me, aside from you two. And I need to find out why.”
Holding up a hand when Cassie would have spoken, Utah asked, “Why did you refer to Michelle as Cherokee?”
“It’s a nickname I gave her back in grade school. She has quite a bit of Cherokee blood in her veins. And it smells divine, let me tell you. I never realized how divine until recently.”
Utah sent her a blank look.
Cassie laughed. “Don’t mind me. I’m recently turned. All blood smells like ambrosia to me. Cherokee’s maybe a little sweeter than most, but you get the idea.”
“Speaking of,” Malik whispered, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “She just stepped outside.”