The Catalyst Read Online Free PDF

tits
that her job at the Java Junkie making fancy coffee beverages was a
brief hiatus from a more lucrative position at a strip joint in
Atlanta.
    He knew she had a thing for him, and he’d been
tempted more than once. But she was human, and explaining why he
lived in a cave like a mountain man wasn’t on his agenda for the
evening. Not that he could take a woman to the cave right now with
Fiona there. Either way, it would only make his visits to the
coffee shop awkward after the inevitable end of their fling. And he
needed his double espresso. In small towns, you couldn’t afford to
piss off the keepers of the coffee beans.
    He nodded, acknowledging the flirtation, but not
inviting more. He was perplexed by how lack of attention attracted
women more than overt and cloying interest. He sat at the counter
while she bustled about making his drink. A moment later she put
the espresso in front of him along with a slice of pumpkin pie with
a thick layer of whipped cream. She leaned close, her scantily
covered breast pressing against his arm for the smallest moment. It
was meant to appear accidental, but Z knew better.
    “We make the pies fresh daily, and we’re about to
close up. We’d have to throw it away, anyway,” she said. “Don’t
tell my boss.”
    “Thanks.”
    As always when he was in town, a few folks turned
away, others whispered and stared. They knew there was something other about him; they just couldn’t figure out what it was.
Women like the one who’d served his drink and pastry were drawn to
it like magnets. Others had better self-preservation instincts.
Never in a million years would they suspect that what sent their
spider senses tingling was the fact that he wasn’t human.
    He tuned in his sensitive hearing to one of the
conversations nearby. A couple of tables over, two women were
talking, not having noticed his presence yet.
    “I heard Mayor Walsh wanted to find someone willing
to rebuild that house on Cranberry Lane. They still have the
original plans in a vault. It was on the registry of historical
homes,” one of them said.
    “Elizabeth, you know, it’s funny, but I don’t think I
recall what the house looked like. I know I must have driven by it
a hundred times at least,” the other replied.
    Elizabeth twisted her auburn hair up and put a clip
in it. “That’s strange. You know you’re right. It burned down, but
I can’t recall if it was arson or an accident. It was only a few
months ago. I should be able to remember.”
    “Didn’t Anna Worthington live there for a bit? I’d
heard she did, but maybe I’m wrong. I mean, I haven’t seen her in
years since she ran off with that…”
    Z let their conversation trail off. Boring, like so
much of the idle chitchat in this town. But then his senses picked
up on something much less boring from the opposite direction. He
stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck rising at the new
presence.
    Vampire.
    Z didn’t turn, instead waiting for the vamp to come
to him, as he knew he would. What else would a bloodsucker be doing
in Golatha Falls? The night-walking breed preferred cities with
nightlife. Soccer moms just weren’t their flavor of choice. Any
vampire in this town had a purpose in being here, and Z didn’t like
that the vamp’s purpose might have to do with the pup.
    As expected, the vampire sat on the barstool next to
him. He looked like a bodyguard. Before whatever ominous message
he’d come to deliver got said, Cherry sidled up to the bar, using
her flirtatious routine on the vampire. It wounded Z’s male pride a
bit, but his larger concern was the look in the vamp’s eyes as he
sized up the voluptuous snack in front of him.
    “What can I get you to drink?” she asked. Her voice
was laced with innuendo, as if some small corner of her mind knew
the truth about the being she was now faced with.
    “You,” the vampire said.
    Z groaned at the cheesy line. Vamps were all about
production value. Cherry was caught off guard,