Dalton, Tymber - Love and Brimstone [Brimstone Vampires 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (15 page)

She was quiet. “So how old are you?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She nodded.

“I was nearly one hundred when Columbus discovered America.”

She dropped her head to the table and laughed. “This isn’t happening.”

Albert placed a folder on the table next to her. “The lab work.”

“What?” She looked up at him. “What lab work?”

“You gave blood for the hiring process, the drug screening.”

“Let me guess. You didn’t screen for drugs?”

“Only for the DNA markers. We wanted to be sure. There have been a lot of advances in testing the past few years, and we needed a fresh sample from you.”

She snatched up the folder and opened it, reading, not sure what she was looking for. Inside she found a report, a letter addressed to Matthias, summing it up.

Preliminary testing shows the sample provided contains the DNA markers we are actively tracking for the EE, WE, and NA Clans, with less than ten percent dilution factor, genetic traits sufficient enough…

“Well, at least my cholesterol is good.” She closed the folder and pushed it away, feeling ill. “I’m related to vampires?”

Albert shook his head. “You’re not related to vampires. You are a vampire.”

“I need air.” She bolted out the door to the terrace. Closing her eyes, the cool breeze washed over her.

This isn’t happening.

“Taz, I’m so sorry.”

Robertson’s voice startled her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him.

She wanted to throw him off the roof.

“The feelings I’ve had for you are real. You are like a daughter to me, but I had a job to do.”

Her voice bore a granite edge. “You did it very well.”

“I do love you, Taz. Please believe me. I had to protect and prepare you—”

“You never mentioned anything about exploding demons or crazy vampire bosses!” She turned on him. “So what really happened to my parents?”

He shook his head. “We don’t know. When their plane went down, Matthias sent in a fleet of search and rescue teams to try to find them. He had nothing to do with their disappearance. How do you think they managed to stay alive and out of trouble for so many years?”

“You helped them. They couldn’t have found their asses with both hands and a flashlight if it wasn’t for you. You ran their lives.”

He snorted, the first time she ever heard him make that sound. “Not by myself, I didn’t. If it wasn’t for Matthias’ resources, I never could have handled them. He did his best to protect them, as he does others in your situation. There are so few, he tries to take all reasonable measures when he identifies someone of the line who is very strong.”

She grabbed the back of a chair and held on, suddenly feeling very dizzy. Her head buzzed as her vision swam. When she collapsed, Robertson yelled for help, and she felt him catch her…

* * * *

Taz dreamed about her parents. Eric’s green eyes and rakish smile fit well with his Irish brogue. Her mother, Bianca, met him while filming in Dublin, and they were a match made in heaven. Except when they fought, which was often. He drank and chased women during his off-seasons, but Bianca always took him back, as if she couldn’t resist his charms. And she was no angel either. People jumped to fulfill her every whim—except Robertson. He was the one stable force in the Proctor household, not just for her but for her parents, too.

Taz dreamed about driving lessons with her father, times spent in the garage with him learning about cars. Robertson always hovered in the background watching over her, protecting her. Feeling more like a dad than her own father.

Her high school graduation, one of the few times her parents were together and smiling and there for her, and how they flew out that evening from LAX leaving her alone with Robertson to take her out to dinner in celebration…

Watching the TV reports, seeing publicity shots of her mom, her ice-blue eyes flashing on the screen while rescuers combed the wilds outside Rio looking for their small plane. Less famous than her mother, her father got second mention every time. It was always, “Actress Bianca Proctor and husband, race-car driver Eric Proctor, are missing…”

And Robertson there, holding her, helping her, taking over for her, providing a shield from the public, ensuring her the privacy to grieve…

* * * *

Taz awoke in a dim room and lying on a soft couch. There was a cool, damp cloth on her forehead and a light blanket covering her. She started to sit up, remembered what happened, and opted to stay where she was until the dizziness abated.

“You’re okay.” Matthias was at her side. He snapped on a lamp. “You fainted. It was shock.” Concern lined his face.

She regretted taking this job. She should have followed her instincts to run. How much of her life was a sham, with Matthias Hawthorne pulling the strings?

“How long have you been watching me?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Huh? No, I mean how long, how many years?”

“Oh. We’ve tracked your family line for decades, ever since I untangled the genealogy after World War II. A lot of Clan members were scattered, many killed, during the wars in Europe. When your mother and father married and had you, I realized there was a potential danger to you because of their irresponsible behavior. That’s when I stepped in and made sure you had Tim to care for you. Once he realized you were much more powerful than just a hybrid, he stayed to keep you safe until you were old enough to bring in.”

“They never knew?”

He shook his head. “In most cases, unless it’s obvious someone has the line strong in them, I never make direct contact with the family. Especially if I feel they would be better off not knowing their lineage.”

“Why did you lie to me? Sucker me into this job?”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hi, I’m a really old vampire. Do you want to come work for me?’ Like you’d give me a chance to say anything else. You’d think I was crazy.”

“Guess what, big guy? I
do
think you’re crazy. You just want to sleep with me. I can think of better pick-up lines than, ‘Hi, I’m a vampire, you’re a vampire, let’s suck.’”

“No. I won’t lie and tell you there were no ulterior motives, Anastazia, but that’s not the reason I brought you onboard. You are a talented, skilled, beautiful woman, and you are a valuable asset to this firm.”

She pulled the blanket away and sat up, determined to salvage a little of her dignity. “Asset to the firm. Great. Valuable firm
ass
is more like it.”

He caught her arm. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She shook free. “That’s exactly how it came out.” She threw the door open, taking Tim and Albert by surprise. Her purse sat on the chair just inside her office. She grabbed it as she passed, barely breaking stride.

Matthias followed her. She didn’t dare meet his gaze, knowing she’d melt. “Anastazia, can we talk about this, please?”

“We have nothing to discuss,
Mister
Hawthorne. I am leaving this loony bin. You’ll have my letter of resignation tomorrow.” She yanked the door open harder than she meant, and it flew out of her grasp, bouncing off the wall. “Good day,
sir
.” She didn’t say anything to Robertson. She’d deal with him after she dealt with this. She could only handle one shift of her world on its axis in a day, and this was it.

How could I be so stupid?

“Please, Anastazia, wait—”

She held up a hand, not looking back as she walked to the elevator. Matthias fell silent behind her. He didn’t try to follow her down to the parking garage. By the time the elevator opened downstairs, the valet had her car waiting, running, door open. One of the men must have called ahead for her.

How thoughtful.

Asshats.

She held her tears at bay until she reached I-75.

What a moron I am. What a friggin’, absolute dumb-ass moron. How could I be so stupid?

Vampires and demons and clans, oh my.
They were probably laughing their asses off back at the office. What kind of sick game was Hawthorne playing? And with Robertson in on it?

How could he betray me like that?

She felt foot meet floor and realized the speedometer needle was buried at 110. She immediately eased up. She didn’t need a ticket from FHP on top of everything else. Her day sucked badly enough already.

Chapter Thirteen

Robertson didn’t follow Taz home, and there were no calls on the answering machine. She switched her BlackBerry off, locked the front door behind her, and locked herself in her room.

She filled the tub and sank into the hot water, closing her eyes and trying to sort her thoughts.

This is a dream. A really,
really
bad dream. There are no such things as demons or vampires.

Babson didn’t disappear into a flaming pile of ash. If Criss Angel could appear to levitate on a city street, surely a man of Matthias Hawthorne’s considerable means could concoct an elaborate hoax.

And her employer—and admitted yummalicious hunk—was
not
a vampire.

She
was not a vampire.

Correction,
ex
-employer. Despite her attraction to him, after that display there was no way in hell she was working for him anymore. She’d pack and be back in LA by the end of the week.

Or she’d wake up in the morning in the hospital, suffering from the flu or food poisoning. Part of her prayed that was the real answer, because despite the crazy events, part of her dreaded not working for handsome Matthias Hawthorne anymore.

Her doorbell rang.
Fuck that, I’m not answering it.
She didn’t care who it was. She sank lower in the water, trying to calm her nerves.

It rang again, then a third time, over the next few minutes. Finally, it stopped.

Talking cats. Exploding demons. Vampires…

Taz woke up and realized she’d dozed in the warm water. After drying off she donned her pajamas and robe. A glance out the window and she saw it was now past dark. Just her car in the driveway. Robertson must be giving her a wide berth tonight.

As damn well he should.

Taz stuck her head out the bedroom door. Dark. She made her way to the kitchen and turned on the light before grabbing a glass of wine. She felt she’d need more than that.

She remembered the doorbell. On the front step, she found a large bouquet.

How expected.

She sighed and brought it inside, locking the door behind her. She took the card and her wine back to her room, stopping to pick up her BlackBerry.

The card was in Matthias’ tidy script. He must have followed her from the office to get it out there that soon.

Anastazia, I’m sorry I couldn’t confide in you sooner. I never meant for you to find out like this. Please forgive me. I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me, but for your safety, will you please talk to me?