Read Online Nocturnal Urges (Nocturnal Urges, Book One) by Elizabeth Donald - Free Book Online Page B

quickly retrieved two cans of diet soda and gave him one. “I always seem to be making a fool of myself around you,” she said, opening her soda with a slight hiss-pop that seemed unnaturally loud, even over the music.
    “I would hardly say so,” Ryan said. “Any woman who likes the Beatles cannot be a fool.”
    Isabel blinked. “You know this music?” she asked.
    Ryan nodded. “I saw them in concert, in 1964,” he said. “A powerful experience.”
    Isabel shook her head. “You are always surprising me.”
    This time, it was Ryan who seemed off-balance. “You are expecting a long black cape and Transylvanian accent,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
    Isabel shrugged. “The décor at Nocturnal Urges, the stories around…your people,” she said. “What’s real, and what’s just from the movies?”
    Ryan leaned back a little. “The club plays up the stereotypes of the urban vampire because that’s what the marks want,” he said. “It is all designed to meet expectations, down to the fingernails.”
    Isabel instinctively glanced down at Ryan’s tapered, carefully manicured nails. “They’re not really like that?”
    “They grow faster than yours,” Ryan said, extending his hand for a better view. “But they can be trimmed, the same as yours. Fiona requests that we keep ours in their ‘natural state’.”
    “I’m being so rude, asking all these questions,” Isabel said. “You ask me something so I’ll feel like less of an ass.”
    “Are you truly all right?” Ryan asked immediately. “I have been quite concerned.”
    She nodded. “I’m recovering nicely. I’ll even be bite-worthy in a few weeks.”
    Ryan shook his head. “That would probably be a bad idea.”
    Isabel quashed the sudden surge of disappointment. “It’s my turn to ask a question,” she said, grinning playfully. “What about garlic?”
    “My favorite appetizer is garlic bread with cheese,” he said, smiling. “I have grown quite fond of Italian food as well.”
    “Your turn,” Isabel said, smiling. She was smiling so much she felt her face begin to grow sore, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
    “How old are you?” Ryan asked.
    “Oh, that’s an easy one,” Isabel replied. “I’m twenty-five. Which probably sounds very young to you, but I’m starting to feel…not like a teenager again.”
    Ryan shook his head. “When I was twenty-five, the world was a potato farm four miles from a tiny village in Ireland,” he said. “It seems many worlds from where I am now.”
    There was a sadness to his tone, a solemnity that seemed to settle over him. “I’m sorry,” Isabel said softly.
    “Don’t be,” Ryan said. “Sometimes we think we leave our pain behind, and sometimes…it follows us. Either way, it must be borne.”
    Isabel returned to more casual topics. “Is it true that holy things hurt you? Holy water, crosses?”
    “Holy water is meant for reverence, not splashing us. I’ve never recoiled from a cross in my life,” Ryan said. “In my life, I was a devout Catholic. But the church has understandably been reluctant to accept my people.”
    “You say that like an activist,” Isabel said.
    “Not like Drew,” Ryan said immediately. “I see nothing wrong in the sharing of pleasure without the sharing of souls. But he and I differ.”
    Isabel flushed a little, remembering that huge sensation she had brushed against, too much, far too much. “And the sun?” Isabel asked, staring at his pale skin.
    Ryan inclined his head somberly. “I will not burst into flames in the sun,” he said. “However, it is not…recommended.”
    “What happens?” Isabel asked.
    “Sunburn.”
    The matter-of-fact answer threatened to set off Isabel’s giggles again. “Next you’ll be telling me you can see yourself in the mirror,” she said.
    Ryan shook his head. “That is the one aspect that science cannot explain,” he said. “All else—the blood cravings, our unusual physical attributes—it can all be