Now his eyes were downright stormy and she noticed that a bank of clouds swept in, swallowing the sun. She wondered if that was on purpose or a side effect of his emotions. She made a note to herself to ask the girls about this dreamscape stuff and see if anything like this happened to them before they stopped dreaming.
S-stripping? he sputtered. You will do no such thing. I forbid it.
Shane’s command slammed into her like a ton of bricks, sending anger and frustration up Maya’s back. She set her jaw, and in a flash she shoved at him, instantly extricating herself from his embrace. You forbid it? Fangs bared, eyes wild, she glared at Shane with outright fury.
I am your bloodmate, and it is my right. The words spilled out in a rush, and Shane looked almost as shocked that he’d said it as she did. You will not do it.
Your what? Maya took another step back while disbelief and confusion whipped through her like a tornado. Like Olivia and Doug? She shook her head and clutched the pendant. We are not bloodmates. No way.
How else do you explain the fact that I’ve been pulled into your dreams after not dreaming for more than three centuries? Shane folded his arms over his chest, and that calm, arrogant look settled over his face once again. I will not have my bloodmate prancing around half naked in front of a pack of drooling wolves—or humans, for that matter. It’s unacceptable.
Oh, really? First of all, this whole dream thing could be a fluke. Hands on her hips, she closed the distance between them while Shane held his ground. Secondly, I don’t care who you are or who you think you are. You have no right to tell me what to do. She poked him in the chest with one finger, but he merely arched an eyebrow at her, which was even more infuriating. And if I want to take off all my clothes and go running through Times Square, then I’ll do it. You know why, Shane? Because it’s my life—not yours or anyone else’s.
You’re being silly. Shane smirked. We both know you’re not going to do any such thing.
You see, now that’s where you’re wrong. I may not remember much about my human life, she said in the sweetest tone she could muster, but I’ll tell you one thing: I do like to dance. So maybe I will give it a whirl on the dance floor at The Dollhouse, or maybe I’ll strip and dance through Times Square naked as a jaybird…but if I do…it will be my decision, Shane. Not yours.
Before Shane could say another word, Maya shot up into the sky. Whisking toward the horizon, she heard Shane’s deep voice, edged with sadness, rumbling around her.
Just because you can, Maya, doesn’t mean that you should.
Throwing on a pair of her favorite jeans, black knee-high boots, and a formfitting, red V-neck sweater, Maya got up and ready for the night in record time. Normally, she’d take her time and dither over what outfit to wear, but not tonight. She had no idea what Rat would want her to wear to tend bar, and the truth was, she didn’t even expect to work tonight. In all likelihood they would only talk about her schedule or something, but one thing was for sure—she would not be stripping. She had no intention of dancing at the club, but when Shane threw out an order, something inside her snapped.
Maya snagged a hairbrush off her dresser and ran it through her hair with furious strokes. Ever since she woke up, all she could think about was Shane and what had happened in the dreamscape. She’d never experienced such a roller coaster of emotions in such a short time.
Fear. Relief. Safety. Passion. Lust. Shock. Fury.
Memories of the gentle way he held her hands, the passionate, insistent feel of his mouth on hers…all of it came flooding back in living color. For the first time since Maya had been turned, fear was drowned out by tenderness and she remembered what it felt like to be desired. To be desired for who she was, not what she looked like.
She fiddled with the handle of the wooden brush as she gazed at her reflection in the large mirror above her white dresser. The human men she hunted were easy prey and wanted her for her body, not that they ever got it, but Shane was different. Maya nibbled her lower lip and smiled wistfully. He wanted her physically, that was for sure, but there was more to it. Shane was concerned about her emotional well-being and her safety, which was evident in the way he intervened in the dreamscape.
The dreamscape. What the hell was he doing there? Not that she wanted to seem ungrateful—after all, he stopped the nightmare—but did his presence there mean what he said it did? Were they bloodmates? Her gut clenched at the mere idea of it and what it would mean.
From what Olivia said, there was a blood exchange and bonding, and then both would become daywalkers. But while he had tasted her blood, she hadn’t tasted his. Daywalking was fine, but Maya couldn’t quite get a grip on the whole bonded-for-eternity concept. In fact, the mere idea of it was terrifying. She would be trusting him with her life, and Maya never trusted men, other than Pete or Doug. They were like brothers, and it wasn’t the same thing.
A smile played at her lips and her fangs broke free while she recalled the way her stomach fluttered from that look in his eyes. Oh no, there was nothing brotherly about the way Shane made her feel.
Not. At. All.
A sudden knock at Maya’s front door captured her attention and tore her from her thoughts. With her brow furrowed, she tossed the brush on the dresser and went into the living room. It was probably Olivia or Doug because they were the only two vamps who had access to the apartments that Maya couldn’t telepath with.
Putting on a smile, she gripped the brass doorknob and prayed that they wouldn’t see through her bullshit and detect the swirl of confusion inside her. Since Olivia didn’t know about the nightmares, bringing up Shane’s surprise appearance would take more explanation than Maya was prepared to give at the moment.
Smiling, Maya pulled the door open, ready to greet Olivia or Doug, but to her great surprise she found herself face-to-face with Trixie and Sadie, both of whom looked concerned. The two women exchanged perplexed looks and then pushed past Maya into the apartment.
“Well, gee,” Maya said, shutting the door, “come on in? What’s your deal? If you two needed to talk to me so badly, why didn’t you just telepath?”
Trixie sat on the arm of the overstuffed, pink-and-white polka-dot chair and stared at Maya like she’d just burst into flames, but Sadie paced back and forth while nibbling on her thumb. If she kept it up, she was going to end up eating the fingerless lace gloves she wore.
“What?” Maya threw her hands up. “Why are you two acting so weird?”
“Ha.” Swinging her combat-boot-clad feet, Trixie sat perched on the edge of the chair. “You’re the one who’s gotten weird. Well, weirder.”
“You’re one to talk,” Maya teased good-naturedly. “I’m not the one with hair that looks like an Easter egg.”
Trixie smirked and flipped Maya the bird. “Suck it.”
“You didn’t hear us,” Sadie said quietly. She stopped pacing and folded her arms over her breasts. “Trixie and I have been trying to telepath to you for the past half hour, and when you didn’t respond, we got worried. We went to the Statue of Liberty and looked in your favorite hiding spot.”