Sins of the Undead Patriot. a.c. Mason

Ms. Waltz.”

      What had Peter said to this creature about her?

      “Thank you.” If she ended the conversation, she could excuse herself to the restroom and hide. She couldn’t do this. Yet she had to.

      “The baby is moving.” Meg’s eyes widened.

      Peter placed his hand on her abdomen and she guided him to the side.

      With a deep swallow, Leera moved further back. She wanted to run, far and fast. Hide. But where could she go?

      “Would you mind accompanying me to the bar?” Vaihan held out his arm.

      Trapped in a sea of choices she disliked. Stay and listen to the two lovebirds carry on about how blessed they were–and were they ever–or, get refreshments with a dead man she was supposed to get closer to. Didn’t they drink juiced organs?

      Peter nodded approvingly. Guess that was his permission for her to go.

      She forced another smile then looped her arm with Vaihan’s. The definition of muscle beneath the fabric was sizable. What else was... She cleared her throat. How could she even think such a thing? The man was dead and rotting, wasn’t he? Not that he appeared to be.

      The place was filled with the who’s who of Washington. Vaihan acknowledged senators in passing.

      “Do you not wish to stop and speak with them?” Growing up with a politician for a father meant she was accustomed to evenings out where she was to be seen and not heard. Exactly one of the reasons why she’d loved Jean. He had wanted to hear her every thought with great interest. He’d denied her nothing. Not even when she’d insisted he relocate to Washington with her. He got a post as professor of classical studies at Georgetown University. Her flirting had left him insecure. She hadn’t been able to give him the same love and nurturing he’d given her.

      “No. I have a stunning woman next to me filled with interesting thoughts I want to learn more about. I’ve lived long enough to figure out which has more value.”

      God, he was good. Why else would he say such a thing? Only moments had passed since they’d met.

      “Thank you.” She pressed her lips together.

      “Though you seem to be doing a lot of thinking, so far, you’ve been a woman of few words.” The flesh of his hairless brow line rose. Warm beige lighting shone on the light blue hue of his skin.

      “I’m not much of a talker.” Once she’d been a chatterbox, but she’d changed these ten months.

      “Are we really going to start our friendship off under the pretense of lies? Your brother said you’ve been withdrawn since your husband died?” He glanced down at her, and the intense black circles of his eyes held her captive. “At one time, he believed you beamed of life itself.”

      Peter had said that about her to him. Why? What about Vaihan made her brother trust him, to confide such a thing? And how tall was he? Her head lined up with his collarbone. Six-four? Six-five maybe. At her five-five, he stood nearly a foot taller.

      “I’ve learned how minimally people want to hear from you, when most of what you have to share is unpleasant.” Her friends had moved on with their lives and felt she was stagnating. Very few of them contacted her any more. The ones who did seemed to be checking up on her. Making sure she hadn’t killed herself or something.

      “Too much time is wasted telling people what they want to hear, rather than what you have to share.” He glided in close, and the warmth of his torso radiated onto her.

      At the counter, he smiled. “What would you like?”

      Heat rushed inside her chest. Who was this creature and why was he affecting her this way? “An espresso, please.”

      “Won’t that have you up most of the night?” He slid back curls from her cheek, his hot fingertips slipping over her skin sending a tidal wave of explosions inside.

      The trail his fingers traveled burned. Her nipples peaked, pressing to the lacy fabric of her bra. Why had he done that? Shouldn’t she feel invaded by his touch? The moment had occurred in a blink, and yet she wished to relive his caress.

      “I haven’t slept much for a long while.” The large bed felt cold and lonely.

      “An espresso for the lady, and I’ll have a Scotch with a shot of puree repro mix.” Vaihan placed cash on the counter.

      “All out. We’ve got a primary mix.” The man was round, and his two-strand comb-over suited him.

      “Primary it is.”

      A group of servers hustled behind the counter. Steam rushed out from the impressive coffee machine.

      Vaihan’s stare descended over her curves. “Peach brings out the yellow pigments in your skin, giving you a glow.”

      “Thank you.” Fire scorched her cheekbones.

      “Are you afraid of me?” He stepped toward her.

      She retreated. What a loaded question. The creature worked for the CIA, was trying to take down her brother through her and ate people to survive. Excuse her, if she didn’t buy the reformed song and dance. Cloned body parts were still pieces of humans, weren’t they?

      “Allow me to alleviate any fears floating around in your mind. At my age, I need not feed every day, though I usually eat small portions three times a day to make humans more comfortable. I have no criminal record and I’m a special advisor to the president, so I have a stable job at a decent pay. I would also like to see you again. Therefore, consuming you would be counterproductive.”

      A young woman hesitated, then placed an espresso and a Scotch in front of Leera, and backed away, eying him.

      People could be so insensitive. “Are you bothered by her reaction?”

      “No, are you?” Vaihan picked up his glass then rested his other hand in the arch of her back.

      As she lifted her mug, the skin beneath his touch tingled “Yes. I think it’s rude.”

      “You’d prefer she carry on a conversation with me as though she weren’t uncomfortable then come up with any excuse other than her fear of me for why she hurries off.” He arched his brow.

      She swallowed. “Not exactly.” Was that his judgment of her?

      “Isn’t that what you are planning to do?” He guided her back to the blissful couple.

      How dare he? She barely knew the man...zombie, Ancient, whatever. Peter had given him the perfect in to make his approach. The poor lonely widow angle. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him.

      “No.” She sipped her drink. The boiling liquid scorched her lip. Ouch.

      “So you’ll see me again?” He smiled.

      Whoa, wait a minute. He was double-talking her into going out with him. She shook her head.

      “I’m confused by your response. You said you weren’t planning to blow me off and now you have.”

      “I’m not ‘blowing you off.’ I just don’t want to be taken out on the basis of pity.” If he was going to ask her out, he could at least make it seem like he was interested.

      “And you believe that is the reason I’ve asked you? Because I feel sorry for you?”

      His thoughtful expression gave her pause. No, she knew it was to get to Peter, and ultimately, Rowley.

      “It hadn’t occurred to you that I’m intrigued and attracted to you. I can’t make heads or tails of you, as you seem bottled up in that brilliant mind of yours, but I’d like to find out what happens when you come out.”

      What a smooth talker. Brilliant mind and peach brings out the yellow pigments in your skin, giving you a glow. Some humans sought out zombies for the thrill. At least that’s what she’d