Servant of the Undead

"It's good to make people jealous."

"Don't look like that. It's good to make people jealous." Mattie pressed a kiss to Hayden's neck. "Sometimes, anyway. Especially some people. The ones who deserve it."

Maybe that was true. But they weren't talking about people.

She kissed his neck again, softer, letting her cold lips linger on his still-feverish flesh. Each press gave new life to the sexual pull she had over him. A pull Hayden did not want or understand.

"I have to get back to Rachelle," he said, speaking softly. He leaned back and caught Mattie's gaze. "Alone."

She stilled, no longer the aggressor, but not yet ready to let him go. That same expression passed over her face, the one he'd seen outside when she pressed her hand to the window. The vulnerability was a surprise, a shock, but somehow it made sense. She must have been human once. What was she like then? Hayden shoved the question aside.

He set his hands on her waist and kissed her lightly on her cold mouth. "It'll be better this way." He didn't really know what he meant by the comment, but it sounded right, and it kept her from reaching for him again.

"Better for who?" she asked, her voice small and thin and surprisingly unsure.

"For you. Me. Rachelle." Again, he wasn't sure what he meant, but as he spoke, he got the sense that it wasn't the words she was after. It was the exchange. A conversation. For the first time since they'd met, he had the upper hand. If he kept it, he could get her to do what he wanted. He nodded toward the open window. "It'll be good this way. You go back out the way you came. She won't see you."

He touched her face, pulling her toward him. He kissed her again, lightly, a whisper of lips, then gently turned her toward the window.

She let go of him, took one step back, then another toward the window. "I'm leaving because I want to," she said, raking over his naked body with her careful study.

He nodded as he gradually slid off the sink. "I know," he replied, rubbing the pain out of the backs of his legs.

"Hayden?"

It was Rachelle, the soft pad of her feet getting louder as she approached the closed bathroom door.

Mattie slid silently to the window, moving without taking her gaze from his bare skin.

Hayden turned on the faucet and spoke loudly over the rush of the water. "I'll be right there."

"You okay?" Rachelle called from the hallway. "Everything okay?" She was right on the other side of the door.

"I said I'll be right there. Go back to bed where you belong."

He heard her laugh, a husky warm sound. "Okay, all right. I get it," she called, her voice growing distant as she headed back to the bedroom. "But you don't have to be so bossy about it."

"You like me bossy," he yelled, forcing lightness into his voice.

Mattie was pushing the sash of the window all the way up. Once the opening was wide enough for her to climb through, she sat on the ledge and swung her legs over. She turned and looked at him from over her shoulder. "You'll see me again soon. You know that, right?"

He nodded, staring into the swirling steam rising up from the sink. When he finally lifted his head, she was gone, out into the endless storm, and the window had been pulled shut. Except for the evil electricity coursing through him and the last vestiges of her scent, it was as though she'd never been there.