Page 2 of Vein & Vow (The Bouchers #1)

Chapter 1

Reese

“I know you stole it, Kenny,” I yelled, flipping him off as I rushed down the stairs. “Fucking find it, or we’re going to have issues.”

“I didn’t steal your stupid hair dryer!”

“I let you borrow it, and you never gave it back.”

“I did, too!” he called, leaning over the railing. “I gave it back that night that Salmon and I came over for cocktails.”

“No, you didn’t.” I shoved the strap of my backpack higher on my shoulder. “Salmon probably took it home with her the next morning. Who the hell names their kid after a fish anyway? That should’ve given you a pretty good indication of what you were dealing with.”

“Salmon was nice,” he argued, yelling as I crossed the parking lot.

“Salmon was a raging bitch who gave you gonorrhea,” I screamed back. “Find my fucking hair dryer!”

“I’ll buy you a new one!”

“Sure, you will,” I muttered as I raced down the sidewalk. We’d had the same argument at least five times, and I still hadn’t seen a new hair dryer on my doorstep. Leaving the house with damp hair was getting really freaking old, especially now that the weather was cooling down.

It took me fifteen minutes to walk to work, and I’d spent so much time trying to find a hat that I now only had five minutes to get there before I was late. I hadn’t even found the one I was looking for, and I was currently jogging down the side of the road wearing a blue hedgehog beanie with spikes on it that I’d bought for a Halloween costume. I probably looked deranged.

Groaning as my backpack thumped against my lower back with every step, I slowed to a brisk walk just as my phone rang.

“What?” I barked, lifting it to my ear.

“Hello to you, too.”

“Sorry, best friend.”

“Why do you sound out of breath?” Rena asked suspiciously. “Are you in the middle of something?”

“Yeah, in the middle of running to work. What’s up?”

“You have to stop leaving so late.”

“It couldn’t be helped. I had a hat issue.”

“Please tell me you’re not wearing the hedgehog hat.”

“Fuck off.”

“You are.”

“Why are you calling me at eight in the morning?”

“Because I went on that date last night.”

“With the dude bro?”

“He was really nice, actually.”

“I bet that guy still has his mom wash his clothes.”

“You can’t know that from a picture.”

“Oh, yes, you can.”

“He has a good job?—”

“Lemme guess,” I said with mock excitement. “Tech start-up.”

“Why do I even call you?” Rena bitched. “You always do this.”

“That’s exactly why you call me. I bring your happy ass back to earth.”

“My feet are fully planted.”

“They are not, as evidenced by the fact that you went out with that guy.”

“Well, he asked me on a second date,” she replied smugly.

“Of course he did.” I hopped in place, waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street. “You’re gorgeous, own your own business, and have an ass that won’t quit.”

“Stop trying to flatter me when you’re being irritating.”

“It’s not flattery when it’s true,” I argued, finally crossing the street. I could see my office building in the distance, and I increased my pace. “And I’m always irritating.”

“I just want to find a guy I can settle down with,” Rena said with a sigh. “I’m not like you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean. You’re all, I’m an independent woman, I can butcher a deer and make mouthwatering steaks, why would I need a man?”

“That happened one time.”

“But I want a partner,” she whined. “Like, a solid, not going anywhere, sees me at my worst and still thinks I’m hot, brings me coffee in the morning, and puts a ring on it—partner.”

“See, you think I can’t sort through that shit and pull out the important piece, but I can. Get a fucking maid and have her bring you coffee in bed.”

“I need a Vampire.”

I groaned, long and loud. “When are you going to stop with that shit? We’re not thirteen anymore. For all you know, Vampires are shit in bed and out of it. They probably don’t even drink coffee.”

“I heard that they’re devoted to their mates.”

I snorted.

“Oh, stop it. I read all about it.”

“You realize it’s probably all bullshit, right?” I asked as I reached the front of my building. I waved at the security guard, Larry, as I pulled open the glass door. “They’re notoriously private. Anyone giving out information is probably lying out of their ass.”

“It was a news article, actually.”

“Sure, it was.”

“I don’t know how you’re so blasé about it all. You work with them, so it’s not like you don’t have?—”

“I don’t work with them,” I corrected for the thousandth time.

“Yeah, yeah. You just prepare their meals. You’re their chef.”

I let out a startled laugh and choked on the spit in my mouth.

“I mean, basically,” she said innocently.

“I’m a blood tech,” I corrected as I made my way down the carpeted hallway. “I literally move blood from tiny containers to larger containers.”

“So gross.”

“I make good money, and I don’t have to talk to people. It’s the best job ever.”

“You know I could match your salary if you come work for me.”

“Did you miss the part where I said that I don’t like to talk to people?” I asked distractedly, opening the door to our offices.

A man in jeans and a pea coat was talking to our receptionist as I scooted quietly through the waiting area. The lobby was mostly for show. It was so rare to have anyone stop in that it was kind of startling to see Abby speaking without a telephone propped between her shoulder and cheek.

“No, but you’ll talk to Vampires,” Rena said sarcastically.

“I don’t talk to Vampires,” I hissed, pushing through the door and into the lab. “There are two couriers. One is a brown-haired girl who looks like she’s about twelve, and the other is an old man who looks like he’s ninety.”

“Sure, they are.”

“I have to go,” I said quickly, hanging up as my boss leaned out of his office doorway.

“Late,” Noah called, raising his wristwatch into the air. “Don’t you live like three blocks away?”

“They’re long blocks.”

He just stared at me.

“I was having a hat problem.”

“Still no blow dryer?”

“Kenny says he’s going to buy me a new one.”

“He said that last week.”

“Well…” I came to a stop in front of his door.

“I can order you a hair dryer,” he said calmly, watching as I pulled the blue spiked abomination off my head. “If you can’t afford?—”

“You know I can afford it,” I replied, waving him off. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“You’d rather bitch about it and wear that thing on your head,” he mused, wrinkling his nose at my hat.

“Basically.”

Noah shrugged. “You’re the one who looks like a six-year-old boy.”

“Hey, I resent that comment,” I shot back. “Just because I don’t have boobs?—”

“You cannot say boobs in here, Reese,” he hissed, his eyes wide as saucers.

“You’re the one who said I look like a boy!”

“I meant the frigging hat!”

“Sure, you did.”

“Jesus,” Noah mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You can’t fire me, or your husband would murder you in your sleep,” I reminded him cheerfully.

“I’m aware of that, you menace.”

“Mr. Miranda would help me bury a body,” I continued, looking at my bitten-down nails. “ Your body if needed.”

“Sometimes I hate you a little.”

“You love me.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“I swear I won’t be late again.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I really am good at my job.”

“Any animal with opposable thumbs could do your job.”

“But would they be as discreet as I am?” I asked, leaning against the doorway as he walked behind his desk.

“I heard you talking about your job to Rena when you walked in here,” he replied dryly.

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell her anything.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

“We still on for dinner on Thursday?”

“Pete’s making some Italian recipe,” he confirmed.

“Pedro,” I corrected cheekily.

“I know my husband’s name.”

“Then why don’t you use it?”

“He’s going to have to help me bury a body,” Noah muttered as he dropped into his chair.

“Just because he went by Pete growing up in order to fit in with the whiter-than-white kids at his school doesn’t mean we can’t honor the name his parents gave him now that he’s an adult,” I murmured gently, my lips twitching.

Noah stared at me for a long moment. “He still goes by Pete,” he ground out through his teeth.

“Whatever you say,” I replied breezily.

“You call him Mr. Miranda, for fuck’s sake!”

“Well, yeah, because he was my math teacher. It would be weird if I called him Pete. Some bonds cannot be broken.”

“I love you,” he said, his eyes a little wild.

“Aw, I love you too.”

“No, I’m reminding myself. I do it when I want to toss you out the window.”

“Does it help?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh, good. You know we’re on the first floor. At best, tossing me out the window would end in a bruised ass.”

“Might be worth it to see the look on your face.” He took a deep breath. “But I can’t today. We’ve got a potential client coming in at nine.”

“Really?”

“He said he wanted to see the lab while it was in use.”

“Strange.”

“It’s fine. At least you’re not wearing that stupid hat anymore.”

“My hair look okay?”

“Not even close.”

“Ah, well,” I shrugged, running my fingers through the tangled locks. “You win some, you lose some.”

“Go do your job,” he ordered, pointing.

“Plus, I think he’s already seen me in the hat,” I said, tapping the doorframe.

“What?”

“There was a guy out at reception when I came in.”

Noah was out of his seat and shoving me toward my sterile work area before I’d even finished my sentence.

“Good luck,” I called out as he hurried toward the front.

Walking over to the scrub area, I stashed my backpack under the counter and pulled off my jacket. I dropped my rings into a little bowl on the countertop, pulled my hair back into a tight bun, and pushed my sleeves above my elbows so I could start washing. I did it all without conscious thought, the ritual second nature.

The smell of the disinfectant soap was calming as I scrubbed underneath my fingernails and soaped up my hands and forearms. When Mr. Miranda had first offered me the job—much to Noah’s dismay—I’d been a little skeeved out about dealing with other people’s blood all day. I’d felt almost frantic as I cleaned up before and after mixing, but that anxiety had disappeared pretty early on. It was just blood. It wasn’t as if I was actually having to deal with the people it came from.

I hummed a song from beginning to end and then rinsed my arms, using the massive roll of paper towels to dry. I’d learned the hard way that if I didn’t dry off well, it would be nearly impossible to get my gloves on.

I’d just gingerly shaken the sleeves of my base layer and sweater down, both wool—it was cold as hell in the sterile area—when Noah and the man from the lobby stepped into the office area. I didn’t turn to look as their voices grew closer. I had a job to do, and I wasn’t kidding when I’d mentioned how important discretion was. Vampires didn’t like anyone knowing where they sourced their blood. We didn’t advertise. There was no sign outside the door. Somehow, our clients just knew who we were and what we sold. Rena was the only person who knew what I actually did for a living, and even though she was a bit of a blabbermouth, she’d never say a word to anyone else about it.

I pulled on my smock with the attached gloves, still keeping my back to the hallway, and then stepped into the mixing room.

“Hello, my beauties,” I murmured, taking in the space. “Start playlist.”

Music immediately started through the speakers, and I smiled as I strode across the room. Noah hadn’t liked me wearing headphones as I worked, so he and Mr. Miranda had come in and wired in a sound system one weekend. He’d tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but the system must have cost a mint because it was excellent.

The night guy—I’d never bothered to learn his name—had already unpacked everything, so all of my blood was ready and waiting. We had a contract with local hospitals. All of those little vials of blood that were taken but never used? They ended up in my workstation. I wasn’t sure what the criteria was or if there were certain viruses and diseases that were automatic disqualifiers. As far as I knew, could drink any blood, no matter how sick the person was, and it wouldn’t affect them at all.

As a human, blood-borne illnesses were definitely a concern for me. I had to be very careful not to accidentally come into contact with any of it—hence the scrubbing, smock, and gloves. One of the hardest things I’d had to get used to was not scratching my face once I was gloved up. My nose had itched for two months straight while I worked. Agony.

The process of mixing blood was easy. Noah hadn’t been completely wrong when he said anyone with opposable thumbs could do it. I thought I added a little flair to the whole process, though. Some of our competitors mixed on a large scale, using industrial vats and computers. I was sure that they sold more in a month than we sold in a year, but we were considered a boutique facility. It was kind of like the difference between buying something from a big box store and a family-run business. Volume versus quality.

Some clients preferred specific blood types. Some wanted a mix. On the wall, a large screen detailed each of the orders I’d fill that day. One crate of four-ounce jars of A-positive. Two crates of two-ounce jars of any mix. Five crates of AB positive or negative, mixed was fine, ten-ounce jars. Someone must be throwing a party. On and on it went.

All of the identifying labels were gone. It was completely anonymous, but most of the time, the hospital was kind enough to label the blood types. Occasionally, I had to test for them, which wasn’t exactly hard, but it definitely slowed me down.

Lip-syncing to the song that played around me, I pulled out a flat of vials and turned toward my workstation beneath the row of windows that opened to the hallway. I nearly dropped them when I came face-to-face with the man from the lobby.

He was unnaturally attractive. I mean, I’d seen attractive guys. I knew plenty of them. I passed them on the street. I watched movies. But this guy was something different. He was beautiful . Just imperfect enough to be the most striking human I’d ever seen and somehow…familiar. Which was strange as hell because I’d definitely remember meeting someone who looked like he did.

And he was staring.

“Reese,” Noah called, gesturing at me. “Come out here a moment.”

I jolted and looked away from the chiseled jaw I’d been staring at in wonder. “I just scrubbed,” I replied, lifting my hands out to show him my gloves.

“You can re-scrub.”

“Do you know what a pain in the ass that would be?” I asked dubiously.

“Come out here, please.”

“Seriously?”

“ Reese ,” Noah ground out, widening his eyes as he glanced at the man standing next to him.

Right. Noah was my boss. The other guy was a client.

I pasted on a phony smile and nodded, pushing the flat of blood further back onto the counter so there was no chance of it falling off. The room was small, so it was only a few steps to the door, and by the time I was through it, I was peeling off my smock and gloves. I’d have to re-dress on my way back in with a new one.

“Mr. Boucher, this is Reese,” Noah introduced as I stuffed the used smock into the trash. “She’s our blood tech. She does all the mixing for this facility.”

“And I’m damn good at it, too,” I said cheekily, striding toward them. “It’s an art, really, and I’m an artist.” I lifted my hand and my head at the same time, prepared to shake the client’s hand and scoot back to work, but I froze.

“Reese, this is Beaumont Boucher. He and his family are?—”

“What the flaming fuck?” I whispered as a wave of heat hit me, rolling from my scalp to my toes.

“Is everything okay?” Noah asked, taking a step toward me. “Reese? What’s wrong?”

“No,” Mr. Boucher barked, taking a quick step backward. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Fuck, no.”

I fought the urge to take a step forward.

What the fuck was wrong with me? The guy was looking at me like I’d grown two heads. I shouldn’t be trying to get closer to him. Not only was that pathetic in the extreme, but I should be running in the opposite direction before he decided he’d take his business somewhere else. Noah would have a conniption.

“Reese?” Noah called again. I really should give him more credit. When it came down to it, his only concern was me and not the client, who was wearing clothing that cost more than I paid in rent each month.

Another wave of heat rolled over me, and I grit my teeth, trying to ignore it. Had I caught the flu? I’d felt fine that morning.

“Nice to meet you,” I ground out, looking at the client’s chin. I wanted to turn away from him, but I couldn’t seem to do it.

“This isn’t happening,” Mr. Boucher muttered.

“What the hell is going on here?” Noah barked, finally at the end of his patience. He took a couple of steps forward and pushed his way between me and the client, his back brushing against my arm.

I recoiled as fire flashed from the point of contact to the tips of my fingers.

“Reese, go back to work, honey,” Noah ordered gently, still staring at the client.

Mr. Boucher took another step backward, and I took an involuntary step forward. Unfortunately, the step brought me into contact with Noah, and I nearly fell on my ass as I jerked away again, my entire body twanging with the wrongness of the feeling.

“Stop,” Mr. Boucher ordered, his eyes on me.

“If you’d let me know what the problem is,” Noah said, lifting his hands in supplication. “We would love to have your family’s business, Mr. Boucher.”

“I’ll be in touch,” the Vampire replied. He stared at me for a long moment before turning on his heel and striding away.

By the time he disappeared through the doorway, it felt like I was coming apart at the seams. My entire body burned like I had the most wretched fever in existence. My eyes watered as sorrow beat behind my eyes. My hands shook. Beneath it all was a sense of overwhelming panic. What the hell was wrong with me?