Don't Hex and Drive

Page 2

He turned and passed me the phone with a seriously disgruntled look. I guess Ruben handed his ass to him. Good. A little smugly, I took the phone.

“Hey, Ruben. It’s Isadora.”

“Isadora,” repeated the vampire king in his always-steady-and-calm voice. But then he let out a little sigh. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. Just my ankle.”

“I’m glad you were cautious and didn’t get in the car with him.” Ruben had no idea how bad my car phobia was. There was no way I’d ever just get in a car with anyone. “But listen, Devraj is one of my oldest and best friends. You can trust him to give you a ride home. I’m sure Jules is already worrying since it’s late.”

True. She would be. Or my sisters, whoever was home right now. I eyed the vampire standing in front of me, looking somewhat innocent and remorseful, hands in his pockets.

Ruben knew our family well since he and Jules worked closely together as leaders in the supernatural world. He was a good friend to us, so if he said Devraj was trustworthy, then he was.

“If you say so, Ruben.”

“I do. Let him help you. I can promise you he’s already drowning in guilt. Let him get you home safely.”

“Okay. I will.”

“Can I speak to him again for a minute?”

“Sure.”

I passed the phone back. Devraj took it and listened to whatever Ruben was saying, his gaze sharpening on me as he exhaled the heaviest sigh I’d ever heard.

“I will,” he said to Ruben before ending the call and slipping it into his back pocket. “All ready to go then?”

I nodded, eyeing his intimidating looking car. One of those super-fast, fancy ones that made me cringe.

“All right.” Then he swept me up into his arms, one arm under my knees, the other cradling my back.

“Wait! What are you doing? Put me down!”

“I’m getting you in the car without you injuring yourself further.”

“I don’t like this,” I ground out, pressing my scratched palms to his white shirt, then jerked them back, realizing I’d likely stain it. Whatever he was wearing, it was expensive. “Please put me down.”

“I will. Inside the car, Isadora. Isadora what, by the way?”

“Savoie,” I muttered, gritting my teeth, my nerves fracturing on multiple levels.

“Your ankle is injured, and you can’t walk. You certainly can’t ride your bike.” He glanced toward where it had landed, the back wheel crooked, spokes popping out. His gaze swiveled to mine as he marched forward, looking a bit more contrite. “I’ll come back for your bike.” He strode around his sleek car, the engine still purring as he’d never turned it off. “I imagine you don’t live far.”

His voice rumbled against my side. I’d curled my hands against my chest, trying to avoid all contact. The vibration of his deep timbre against my ribcage reminded me how close we were. So did the scent of him. Some kind of fancy cologne. It smelled expensive and made me uncomfortable. I was ready to be rid of this vampire with his fancy car, clothes, and cologne.

“Not far,” I grumbled before adding emphatically, “I’m not leaving without my pansies.”

He set me down gently beside the passenger door and opened it, ignoring me. Before he could urge me in, I slammed it shut, almost taking off his fingers. The flash of silver across those dark eyes of his told me I’d made my point.

I leaned back against the closed car door. “Not. Without my pansies.”

He braced his hands low on his hips, drawing my attention to the sheer size of him. Most vampires were built lean and trim. He fit that mold. Except he was taller. More muscular. And his body seemed built for athleticism whereas most vampires were built for indolent leisure. Looked like he scaled skyscrapers and swam lakes for fun. Who knew with vampires? They seemed to be the most over-the-top of the supernaturals. Flashy, arrogant. Except Ruben, actually. He was all right. But the rest of them, I had no use for.

He surveyed my broken pot on the street in front of his car. “And how exactly am I supposed to transport them?”

Leaning against the passenger side, I rummaged in my bag, maneuvering around my hand sanitizer, my granola bar, the duct tape, and my first-aid kit, which I’d need in a second. Aha! There at the bottom, I pulled out one of my reusable shopping bags and handed it over.

“Please move her into the bag very gently. If the clustered roots separate, they may wilt and die, even if I get them back into a new pot. Pansies are extremely delicate. I would just be devastated,” I spit out in one breath.

He blinked at me, brows raised. Perhaps I sounded a little dramatic, but this whole freakish incident had made me, well, flustered. My ankle would be fine once I calmed down enough to heal it myself, but my precious pansies imported all the way from Greece might die because of this vampire’s reckless driving.

Glancing at where my plant lay, I pushed off the door and took a limping step toward the front of the car. “Never mind. I need to do it myself.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” He stopped me with a firm but gentle grip around my wrist, then plucked the shopping bag from my hand. “I’ll do it. You stay here.”

No hint of annoyance in his voice. This vampire wasn’t easily rattled, I’d give him that. Even with my less-than-kind attitude, he’d handled me gently enough. Surely, he’d do the same for my pansies.

Biting my lip, I watched him carefully remove the pieces of broken pottery and drop them in someone’s garbage can at the curb. Then he scooped his large hands under the soil and roots, the entire plant fitting nicely in his palms, and placed it in the bottom of the bag.

“Don’t lift it by—” I stopped mid-sentence since he hadn’t hauled it up like a sack of potatoes like I thought he would have. Instead, he lifted from the bottom with both hands and walked toward his trunk. He held my gaze, arching one dark brow as he passed me by.

Okay then. Clearing my throat, I opened the door and hopped in, belting myself and staring at the spaceship-like console with more fancy gauge readings and computerized stuff than I’d ever seen in a car. Of course, this was a seriously expensive car compared to the Jeep Cherokee and the Honda sedan driven by Jules or Evie, the two I trusted most to cart me around town if I needed something beyond the neighborhood.

Deep breath in and out, I reminded myself we were only a few short blocks from the house. Surely, he wouldn’t wreck again in that short space of time.

Shoving that fear away, I rummaged around in my bag and had pulled out my first-aid kit by the time he settled into the driver’s seat. He’d moved my bicycle safely onto the sidewalk before getting in.

“Where to?” he asked, his gaze fixed on my lap where I’d set out my tube of homemade antiseptic, antibacterial wipes, and Band-Aids.

“The end of this block and take the first right. I was actually almost home before you decided to hit me with your car.”

I dabbed at the scratches on my palms, wiping off the small amount of blood and removing any dirt.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t plan to hit a witch with my car today.” He shifted the gear stick into first and accelerated down the street. “It was on the agenda for tomorrow.”

Pausing, I looked over at him, his gaze fixed forward but his mouth ticked up with a wicked smirk.

“Well.” I folded the used wipes and put them in a Ziploc bag I had in my handbag to dispose of later. “I’m so happy I was able to get you ahead of schedule. Nothing better than ticking off your to-do list early.”

“Mmm. Unfortunately, I had a brunette witch on my list, not a blonde.” His gaze roved from the top of my head to down around my shoulders before he moved his attention back to the road.

“Do you have something against blondes?”

I prepared myself for a dumb blonde joke or something else equally offensive. What I wasn’t prepared for was his sultry reply.

“Not at all, darling. I’m a lover of all women.” His gaze caressed my face, shimmering with silver in the dark interior of his car. “I don’t discriminate.”

Darling? Lover? What was he talking about? Wait. Was he flirting with me? What nerve!

“Let me get this straight.” A shocked laugh belted up my throat. “You speed down an unfamiliar road, hit someone with your Porsche, send her flying into the air, injure her ankle, break her expensive, imported plant, and then decide to flirt with her?”

He muttered a curse in another language, but when he spoke, he was all silky sensuality like before.

“First of all, love. This is not a Porsche. This is a Diablo GT Lamborghini, one of the finest Italian cars money can buy.” His tilted smile might as well have added silly little girl. “Second, why are you so sure this is an unfamiliar road to me? I could live right around the corner.”

He could turn off that smooth-talking charm immediately because it wasn’t working on me. “Turn right.”

He downshifted and slowed on the turn.

“You said so yourself you’ve just arrived in town,” I bit back accusingly. “And anyone who lives in this neighborhood knows not to drive their Lamborghini Devil down this road like a bat out of hell.”

“It’s Diablo.”

“Diablo. Devil. All the same.” I snapped my first-aid kit shut and shoved it in my bag, smiling sweetly at him. “It suits you well, I’d say.” Then I pointed. “Stop here. This is my house.”

He maneuvered onto the curb, staring at our two-story bungalow-style house, his gaze wandering to the driveway with keen interest. Kind of creepy-keen interest, actually.

“Something wrong?” I asked as I opened the passenger door.

He snapped out of whatever daze he was in. “Not at all.” He flashed me a bright smile, then traced in vampire speed around the car before I was even fully standing.

“I’ve got it,” I protested, trying to hobble.

He swept me back up into his arms, ignoring me again. I’d have objected but, to be honest, my ankle was already swollen twice its size, and it would’ve hurt too much to try to make it on my own. I might be stubborn, but I wasn’t an idiot. Still, it was pissing me off to no end to have to depend on this guy who happened to cause my injury in the first place.

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