One More Song

Chapter Eighteen

"My dad went through four wives. The last one was a real bitch. He was diagnosed with cancer, some tumor on his spine or something like that. I can't remember what it was now." Nathan shifted, tucking his hand under his head, and reached up to move a few stray locks of Mariel's hair away from his face. "We'd always been pretty close, Dad and I. My mom was his second wife and she was the one real love of his life is how he put it. The fourth wife came along just before he got diagnosed and I knew she was only hanging around to get his money."

"You grew up rich. I knew it."

Nathan's laughter sounded deeper with her head on his chest. "Yeah, I grew up rich. Spoiled probably doesn't cover it. Anything I wanted, Dad got for me." He paused a moment, fingers brushing more of her loose hair back, tucking it behind her pointed ear. "Only thing I ended up really wanting was for him to beat the cancer, but he didn't."

She tilted her head back to look up at him, shifting her arm further down his stomach to make the adjustment easier. "How long did he hang on?"

"Three years." Nathan's jaw tightened and he looked back at the ceiling. "We had a huge fight about his fucking wife. I told him to drop the whore, she was only after his money. And he said I just wanted it easy for me to take everything when he died, including her. So I left. Threw everything I could pack into my Mustang, cleared out every account I could get my hands on and drove out of California without looking back."

When Mariel sat up, he moved his arms, supporting her until she could settle against the headboard. Retrieving her cigarettes from the bedside table, Mariel lit one and blew smoke upward. "Was she the one that told you when he died?"

"No, the lawyers did. He caught her fucking someone, probably the pool boy. She was that unoriginal. Divorced her, tried contacting me but I hung up the phone every time he called." Nathan sighed. "After the last time he called and I wouldn't talk to him, he went downhill pretty fast. Died a week later and left everything to me." He shifted, looking over at Mariel, and gestured towards the bedside table with his head. "Finish that up."

With a grimace, Mariel retrieved the short glass and took a breath. Several, in fact. She panted, revving herself up, and tossed back the remaining contents with a grimace. "Oh fucking gross!"

"I told you not to let it get cold." Nathan settled again, rearranging his socked feet. "Blood's fucking awful when it's cold."

Working her mouth, she drew hard on her cigarette and set the red-filmed glass down, reaching past it to snatch the can of Mountain Dew he'd brought in. A few mouthfuls sloshed around and the coppery taste finally eased enough for her to enjoy a sip of the soda. "I really doubt drinking vampire blood is the de facto treatment for massive blood loss."

"Probably not, but it works." He arched a brow, gaze shifting to focus on her. "You're looking better already and that's only your second glass."

"My last glass. That shit tastes awful." She pointedly swigged more soda, rolling her eyes when he chuckled again.

"Not to us, but you don't have fangs, so I'll guess it probably tastes different for you," Nathan said, half-sitting up to rearrange the pillows before he flopped back down.

Mariel swung her legs over and draped them across his, adjusting her pillow against the headboard by squirming. It put her at a weird angle, but she could reach the ashtray on the bedside table this way. "You weren't a vampire when your dad died, were you?"

He shook his head. "No. I was in my last year of college. Jack was there." Nathan snorted once. "He was the one that got to watch me drink myself half to death and fuck my way through a whole sorority."