Page 12 of Bad Blood Bear

Chapter 6

Lissa sat on her makeshift couch-bed after Tank left, shaking. She was losing it. First she was biting some stranger in the diner, and then he followed her and invaded her squat and she jumped on him again, and then she went all attack-demon and threatened to kill him.

This was why she couldn’t be around people. She wondered if he would report her to the police, for being a danger to herself and others. Maybe not, though—it would be hard to explain about following her home.

Blood, the demon said. Bad blood.

Stop thinking about blood, she told herself. Whatever was wrong with her, it wasn’t a demon, and it didn’t want blood. It probably was only a tapeworm. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Yep, that’s what it was. A wild, aggressive tapeworm. Pretty soon she was going to go to a clinic and make them take it out.

Then she could be normal again, right? She could get a job, and not worry about food orgies and wanting to bite perfectly nice men with kissable lips.

She wasn’t turning into a demon, or a vampire. Or a zombie. That bite mark on her shoulder was a total coincidence.

There was no reason she should have freaked when Tank almost bit her there again. He wasn’t even biting hard, like Brother Damien. Just taking sexy nibbles.

No. Don’t think about Brother Damien. Or attack tapeworms or zombies. Or that cold hollow feeling in her middle that was way too much like terror.

Lissa Ramsey did not get scared. She definitely did not get terrified. You had to keep your shit together on the street, and you couldn’t do that if you let terror take over.

Whatever happened to you, you had to believe you would get out of it.

She’d get out of this, too. She’d get better. She just didn’t know how or when.

Right now, she had to think about something else. Tank was an excellent thing to think about. Those huge shoulders and those sexy abs. And the little dimple under his scruff that made her want to kiss it.

After she kissed those lips again. None of her boyfriends had ever kissed like that. Definitely not Edward, the guy she’d hooked up with in the People of Ursus. He was sweet and had a nice body from doing farm work all the time. But face it, a guy who grew up in a cult, with no movies or internet or dating, didn’t exactly acquire a lot of sexual know-how. She practically had to show him what went where.

But Tank…for such a Mr. Nice Guy Knight in Shining Armor type, he was a hottie with a capital H. Maybe all caps. Her hoohah was still tingling.

Too bad it was nothing but a fantasy. Tank was the kind of guy who would want to snuggle with her and have her talk about her feelings and shit, and that couldn’t happen.

She had to keep her distance, until it was time for her to move on. And there was no way a guy like Tank could handle the demon inside her. No way at all.

But apparently, Tank was not aware of this fact. Because the next day, Lissa found a cooler of food right under the entrance to her squat. A fresh steak on ice, and a camp stove and a pan to cook it in. Potatoes and a sharp knife to cut them with, and boxes of mac and cheese, the good kind with the melty cheese in a can instead of the powder that needed butter and milk, which was impossible with no fridge and no electricity.

Apparently, death threats were a turn-on for some guys.

Two days later there was a bag from the fancy-schmancy Bath and Body store in town, with shampoo that smelled like fruit, and some kind of expensive body wash that Lissa would never have spent money on in a million years. Lissa heated water over the camp stove and washed her hair with the fruity shampoo, and then gave herself a sponge bath with the warm water and body wash.

It felt amazing. She hadn’t washed her whole body with hot water since she’d left the cult.

And both times, Tank left money. Enough to keep her fed for weeks, if she was careful.

But he didn’t show his face. He didn’t come inside. It was like he knew she didn’t want anyone to get close to her.

Or maybe he was the one who didn’t want to get close. Maybe it was more like feeding a stray dog that you wouldn’t want to bring in the house.

Not that she wanted to come in his house. At all. Not even to maybe spend a night in his bed, with those abs and that chest and those kissable lips.

Nope, couldn’t do that. Nope, nope, nope.

But at night when she went to sleep, all she could see was his face. And the steak kept the demon at bay.

For now.

Four days after the shampoo, Lissa figured Tank was done with her. She hadn’t seen him, hadn’t gotten any other little presents.

Hadn’t even smelled him—that tantalizing warm forest-y scent that had to be the best cologne anywhere ever.