Blood and Sand (3 page)

“Who are you, Natalie?” He brushed away another strand of hair, twisting it around his finger for a moment. “And why did you come looking for me?”

She grinned, even though her eyes were closed. “Knew you were Baojia.” They flickered open and met his. “You’re really handsome. How did you move so fast?”
 

“I’m magic.”

She giggled uncontrollably, throwing her head back in delight and sending a wave of her scent toward him. He growled at the back of his throat, which caused her to stop short and look at him with sleepy calculation. “You’re not magic,” she said. “But you’re something.”

She had good instincts.

“Something?”

“Something… different.” She leaned closer and pressed herself against his chest, one hand going to his mouth. Her blue eyes looked up into his, then she looked down at his lips and traced around them. His teeth throbbed in his mouth and his lower lip dropped down on an exhale, revealing the tips of his fangs to her gaze.

A tentative finger reached out and stroked along one. “Cool,” she whispered.

“Natalie,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “you are not to contact Ivan in any way. Do you understand? Forget about him.”

He increased the pressure of his influence on her mind until she slumped against his chest.

“Okay,” she sighed.

“Never. Never speak to Ivan.”

“Sheesh.” She curled her lip. “Bossy.”

“I’m serious.”

“I can tell. In fact, I bet you’re
always
serious.” Natalie rolled her eyes and pulled away. He let her go and tried to ignore the suddenly cool spot on his chest where she had rested. “Baojia?”

“Yes?”

“You’re taking me home?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m tired. And I have work tomorrow. And my editor’s boss… Ugh. I know he doesn’t like me. He puts up with me because of the drug-bust story, but it pisses him off. And I need to meet Kristy tomorrow. Did I put that in my phone? I better put that in my phone.” He cocked his head, watching her as she chattered. Suddenly, she looked down. “I can’t believe I wore this dress.”

He smiled, oddly amused and sad that this interesting human would have no memory of their encounter. “You look lovely in it.”

She smiled back, her eyes sparkling. riedreakling. Even with the wrong purse.”

“It made you stand out.”

“True.”

She fell silent after that, his influence and the late hour lulling her into a peaceful slumber. He relayed her address to the driver, then sat back, pursing his lips as he looked at the human woman in his car.

“A writer,” he muttered. Writers took notes. Notes that might contain Ivan’s name. It wouldn’t do for her to find those and start getting curious again. He didn’t have time to search her apartment before dawn, but he’d definitely be asking Dez some pointed questions tomorrow. Why had she given his name to a reporter? What was Natalie talking about when she said it had to stop? Why did Dez trust her?

He sat up a little straighter and silently cheered when he realized he had something to investigate other than disappearing bottles of the top-shelf vodka. Then he glanced back at the human.

What if she started looking for Ivan before he could find out why she knew about him? What would happen if she ran into the wrong people while he was in day rest?
 

He frowned. She was just a woman. Why was he so concerned?

Baojia let out a frustrated breath. Stupid, curious humans. They could be irritatingly persistent. But it was more intrigue than he’d had in months; he was actually looking forward to solving this mystery, even if it
was
regarding a mortal. Natalie’s leg moved against his, and he followed the line of her ankle up until the pale curve of her thigh disappeared under the edge of her dress.

She was attractive and curious. What if she went looking for Ivan? She had no standing in their world. The name of Desiree Riley certainly wasn’t going to mean anything to more than a few. She didn’t
belong
to anyone. If she was an employee of his sire’s, she would fall under Don Ernesto’s general aegis and be protected against another vampire’s influence or use. If a vampire kept her for blood or sex, she would fall under his personal aegis and would be even more protected.
 

But Natalie was under no immortal aegis at all, which meant she was fair game. He tapped his foot as he watched her sleep. The question wouldn’t leave him alone.

What if she went looking for Ivan?

Her head rolled to the side, and his eyes traced over the smooth, unmarred expanse of her neck. He felt his fangs lengthen and he leaned closer. Slipping one arm around her back, he brought her body close to his and her eyes blinked open.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Hey.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

He took a deep breath, enjoying her scent, which held hints of the ocean and the sun. “I’m putting you under my aegis.”

“What does that mean?” She frowned. “You’re kinda weird.”

“You have no idea.” He leaned closer and heard her sigh when his lips brushed against her pulse. Was he doing this for her? Or for himself? He tried to stop thinking and enjoy the anticipation of the bite.

“What are you doing?” she asked again.

“I’m going to bite your neck and drink some of your blood,” he murmured. “You won’t see the bites, but others will. And it will offer you a measure of protection until I can figure out what’s going on.”

“I didn’t hear that right.” She blinked rapidly. “You’re going to… what?”

His amnis washed over her skin, and Baojia felt the damp coastal air draw close as his energy wrapped around her. He closherher. Heed his eyes and slid his fangs into her neck. The rich taste flooded his mouth, and he felt Natalie arch her back.

“Ohhhh, that feels really good. Holy… W…what are you doing to me?”

He took only a mouthful before he grunted and forced himself back, licking the last bit of blood from his lips before he pierced his tongue and healed the delicate wounds in her neck. He closed his eyes, trying to will away the natural reaction of his flesh to hers. The sight of his marks in her neck gave him too much of a primitive thrill.

“Natalie—”

He was cut off when she kissed him. She grabbed his face with both hands and threw herself into it, moaning into his mouth as he gently pushed her away.

“Natalie, you’re under my influence. It’s—” He cleared his throat. “This is not appropriate.”

She was dazed, staring at him in confusion, hands still on his cheeks and arousal bringing a delicious flush to her pale skin. “Why not?”

“Trust me. I have a feeling if you ever remembered this, you’d be more than a little pissed off.”

She did the adorable wrinkling thing with her nose again. “I’m not going to remember this?”

“No.” He gently pushed her back and buckled her into her seat belt.
 

But I believe I will. For quite some time.

CHAPTER TWO

Natalie Ellis didn’t sleep in. So when the sun hit her face, she sat bolt upright in bed, looking around in confusion. Glancing down, she saw she had somehow fallen asleep in her bra and underwear and she had an odd feeling in her head. Not a headache exactly…

“Ugh.” She groaned and swung her legs over the side of her bed, almost tripping over her black ballet flats. She shook her head to clear the sleep from her eyes and pulled on a long T-shirt, then put her unruly red hair into a messy bun at the back of her head. She’d just had it cut, and the stylist had snipped off a bit too much. As a result, it was constantly falling into her face. She curled her lip in annoyance and decided she needed coffee.

“Coffee,” she whispered as she made her way to the kitchen of her small duplex in Hillcrest. She could hear Mr. Sanchez’s new Chihuahua, Pippy, yapping already. “Coffee, coffee, coffee,” she chanted, trying to ignore the high-pitched barking. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dogs. She’d grown up with a German shepherd, for goodness sake, but she wasn’t totally convinced that Chihuahuas were actual dogs. Her brain was still fuzzy, as if she’d taken a sleeping pill. Not that she ever did. Natalie didn’t need much sleep, but when she finally crashed, she went out like a light. Hitting the counter, she managed to pull out the filters and grounds, pouring in the Kona blend she treated herself to on payday.

After the coffee was started, she looked around her house again. The small living room flowed out onto a whitewashed wooden deck that was the real reason she had leased the place. It was her second house in San Diego, but the one she hoped to stay in. Close enough to downtown to ride her bike, she was within walking distance of cafes, a good market, and lots of boutiques and restaurants. The fact that she also had a friendly, grandfather-ish landlord helped too. Mr. Sanchez thought being a writer was slightly more glamorous than it actually was, but then she was fairly sure she’d heard
His Girl Friday
playing more than once from her side of the wall.

As if on cue, her phone rang. Where wa sts her phone? She always knew where her phone was. It was practically glued to her hand. Natalie looked around in confusion, noting the general disarray for the first time. Her nice black dress was hanging on the back of the dining room chair. Her heels were tossed by the couch. Her purse… was ringing.
 

Picking it up from the coffee table, she dug around, hitting answer just in time to hear her editor, Kristy, muttering.

“—least have the decency to call if she’s not coming in like she said. Don’t know—”

“I’m here, Kristy.” Shit, she sounded annoyed. It was Saturday, wasn’t it? Natalie rubbed her eyes. It had to be. She wasn’t supposed to go into the offices of the
Tribune
on Saturday.

“Hey! Where are you? We were supposed to meet for lunch at the Hash House, remember?”

“Oh shit,” she groaned. “What time is it?”

“How late were you out last night? Did you find him?”

She wrinkled her forehead. “Find who?” She racked her brain. Where did she even go last night? Her dress said nice restaurant or club, but she didn’t remember. She blinked, the scent of coffee starting to clear her head.

She didn’t remember?

“I don’t know. Whoever you were supposed to be meeting. Dan thought it sounded like a guy. Weird name though.”

“Kristy, I don’t…”

“What? Are you okay?”

Natalie cleared her throat. “I’m not sure.”

All annoyance fled her friend’s voice. “Hey, what’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

“I, uh… I remember leaving work last night.”

“You left late. You told Dan you were following up on a lead for the coyote story.”

“Right.” Where had she been? Pushing down a swell of panic, Natalie walked to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, drinking it black. It burned her mouth, but she swallowed anyway, desperate for the jolt of caffeine. “I remember coming home. Mr. Sanchez was here. He made me a pan of enchiladas.” She opened the fridge. The metal pan was there, missing two enchiladas from her dinner last night.
 

“You have the best neighbors. Loud and Louder never make me anything.” Kristy lived next to the most vocal married couple in history. Natalie would think her friend was exaggerating except she’d tried to watch a movie at Kristy’s one time and they’d actually given up after round three was louder than both rounds one and two.

“Okay, enchiladas here,” she muttered to herself. “Think, Nat. Where did you go?”

“Do you really not remember what you did last night? Because that’s not good.”

“You’re telling me. It looks like I went out, but…”

She looked around, taking in the evidence she could see. Dress thrown on the chair. Shoes kicked off. Purse thrown on the table with her phone not plugged into the charger for the night. If she didn’t know better, she’d say she’d gone out with friends to a club or a bar, drank too much, and came home to crash. But if she’d gone out drinking, Kristy would have been there.
 

“Kristy…” She took another drink of the scalding coffee. “I don’t remember what I did last night. Like, no memory. At all.”

“You didn’t meet anyone, did you?”

She laughed a little. “No evidence of amorous encounters. Sorry.”

“I can always hope.”

As soon as she said it, her stomach dropped. Could there have been?
 

Kristy said, “Oh shit.” The thought must have hit her at the same time.

“Are you thinking—”

“Natalie, you are one of the most level-headed people I know. This is not like you at all. You have never blacked out. Ever. Even in college. Someone might have drugged you. You need to go to the hospital right now. I’m coming to pick you up.”

Her heart began to pound. “I’ll get dressed.”

“Don’t shower. Don’t do anything else. Just throw on some loose clothes and meet me at the door. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“’Kay.” Natalie set down the coffee, willing herself not to puke. This wasn’t happening. This didn’t happen to her. It happened to the people she wrote about. “Kristy, drive fast.”