Servant of the Undead

"See something you like?"

Hayden grabbed a towel from the rack and set it in the sink. Hot water splashed across it, soaking it quickly. Once it was completely wet, he turned off the water, wrung it out, then wrapped it into another towel and carried them both to the bedroom. Rachelle was under the covers, only her face visible above the quilt. The sexual haze was gone from her eyes, and she was smiling.

Weighed down by the guilt over what he'd gotten her in to, Hayden climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers from her body. She was still naked, and the shadowy light coming in through the now vacant window outlined her body.

"See something you like?" she asked.

Hayden took the hot, wet towel from inside the dry one. "I like it so much I want to take good care of it."

"I thought you already did."

Hayden turned away and pressed the corner of the steaming, damp towel to the top arch of her foot. "Is it too warm?"

She stretched her legs and placed her feet side by side. "You may proceed."

He took his time, working gradually up the insides of her thighs, then circling around her pelvis. By the time he wiped the moisture off with the dry towel, she'd fallen asleep. He tossed both towels across his laundry basket and climbed in beside her. Outside, the wind-filled snow continued and the wind howled. Icy flakes brushed the windowpane.

Hayden rolled over and tried to concentrate on the curves of Rachelle's shoulders and the sexy slope of her neck. He set his hand on her throat and felt the light, steady beat of her pulse.

He couldn't do that again. He had to get rid of Mattie.

He rolled over, trying not to think about what she'd done to him in the bathroom—lifting him up, setting him on the edge of the sink. Owning him with her emotionless caress. His cock responding to her touch—even when he didn't want it to. A shiver worked up from the soles of his feet, the rousing tremor, a mixture of fear and sexual need. It wasn't right to feel this way. It wasn't human and there wasn't anyone alive who could help him.

Unless someone else had been where he'd been and knew what he needed to know.

He wasn't Mattie's first. He did his best to quell the roll in his stomach as he accepted what he'd become. A toy. A necessary pet. A sexual servant.

What had become of the others who filled the role before him?

Killed? Did they become like her, a creature that preyed on others?

If she hadn't come in through the library window when she had, interrupting the research he'd been doing for the newspaper, maybe he'd have the answers. He'd know what to do to protect himself or at least how to keep Rachelle safe. Hayden tossed again, turning away from the storm and the thing that lurked in it.

No, not thing.

Things.