Dead Vampires Don't Date (7 page)

9.
Mr. Scary As All Hell.

I took Al for a walk later in the afternoon. I waited until the shops closed before we made our rounds. I'd made that mistake only once. Al has no sense of discretion what-so-ever. The owner of the beauty salon still refuses to talk to me.

I didn't agree with him. A small meteorite maybe, but her ass in no way resembled the object-formerly-known-as Pluto.

Try explaining that one to a seriously pissed-off woman with shears in her hand. To top it off, Al had channeled away after he'd offered his opinion.

I'd tried to explain it wasn't me. I'm not one to throw wands at glass houses, but she didn't buy it. And those scissors were sharp!

Now, I simply waited until after five and ordered take out for the two of us.

Don't get me started on Italian restaurants, former mob hit men and the correct way to make a meatball. It's a damn good thing he can't actually hold a handgun now.

We had a nice loop that took us about half an hour to complete. The Italian restaurant was just under six minutes away, so our food was still hot when we got back to my office.

Nothing I could say dissuaded Al from considering these evenings as a date. I couldn't bring myself to play the species card quite yet. Pathetic as it might be, I enjoyed the companionship myself.

Morgan and I never do the best-friend dinner together for the obvious reasons. I met my Aunt Tabitha every once in a while at the Chinese restaurant located in between our houses. And I don't date.

Love is my business. It can't ever be a part of my life.

Even before I went OFF men, I still didn't date that much. What's the point when you know where it will – or rather won't – end?

After we stuffed ourselves on pasta and red sauce, I pulled out the vacuum. I haven't quite made it to the point where I could actually afford a cleaning service. It's all right. There is something soothing about cleaning. Mindless. Repetitive.

Except for cleaning the toilet. That is totally gross. Besides, as I've pointed out, it's not like I have a love interest to object.

In a flash, a large, bare, rippling chest shot forth in my mind. A very masculine hand appeared next, pointing at his chest and then the vacuum.

Oh baby, let me caress those luscious muscles and kiss that hot skin and show you the error of my ways . . .

The bell above my front door tinkled its warning.

I set the rag and can of Pledge on my human only desk to hurry out to the small waiting area. Probably someone with car troubles.

I made a mental note
not
to mention this to Aunt Tabitha. She doesn't like it when I work late at any rate. She'd have a complete fit if she found out I'd forgotten to lock my front door.

And if I hurried I might even be able to expand on my demon daydream. We wouldn't work out, but my mind could still enjoy all sorts of wicked fantasies about the possibilities.

Which reminded me, I still needed to get to that adult store.

With that on my mind, I got almost to the front door before I realized no one was there. Weird. And why were my blinds down? I planned to do a little window cleaning as well, so I'd purposely left the blinds up as a reminder.

One of those creepy shivers that begins as a warning and ends as a five-alarm bell ran down my back, I whirled around, hands cupped at my sides as I called on my magic.

He stood just to the right of the desk in my tiny reception area as if he'd known I was in the human only office. He'd angled his body in such a way that if I'd been focused on my front door, I wouldn't have noticed him.

I didn't like him already.

That plus the REALLY BIG sword that he held in front of him as he casually cleaned it had my back up in no time.

Why he even bothered with the in-my-face threat of his sword I didn't know. He would still be scary as all hell if he stood naked in front of me.

Everything about him, from the top of his buzzed white hair, to his spurred biker boots screamed "bad-ass-psycho-killer!"

The long black leather duster, dark pants and midnight vest with – I narrowed my gaze – small knives and Chinese throwing stars were entirely overkill.

Chinese throwing stars?
Morgan allowed me to try hers once. I had no doubts that his actually embedded themselves into his targets. Probably deeply and with a great deal of screaming involved.

I gathered more magic.

"Ms. Storm?" He didn't even bother to look at me, but remained focused on wiping the cloth slowly up and down the glistening edge of his blade.

I considered lying. I could simply play dumb and claim to be the cleaning lady. I've never had a problem playing dumb in the past.

That sounds horrible, I know, however, for some obscure reason that I have never understood, there is something about curly hair that signals diminished intelligence in other people's eyes.

When you add blonde into the mix . . .

The cloth whispered its way back up the lethal edge of the sword.

Nope. Lying to this man struck me as a really,
really
bad idea.

"Yes?" My voice cracked. My answer came out sounding like a question, as if I wasn't sure of my own identity. I didn't sweat it. I could not imagine anyone maintaining a sense of composure around him.

"I believe you had an interview with Xavier Cantrall, the Prince of the United States vampires, the night before last?"

He knew the answer. It was in his tone. He was just crossing his T's first.

He chose that moment to look up and pierce me with his eyes. They were red. That bloody, evil red that many vampires have in movies.

I'd never seen one with eyes like that before myself. One night while Morgan and I were playing drunken truth or dare, she'd mentioned it.

I'd asked her about the scariest moment in her life. She'd gone quiet for a while then began describing an encounter with an assassin vampire. Something about all the blood they'd shed turned their eyes red, a sort of evolutionary mechanism to keep vampires from killing indiscriminately. Red eyes are extremely noticeable.

I had actually thought she'd been lying.

Now I wondered how much time I had left.

I could use my magic to slow him down, but I couldn't win against him. I wasn't being pessimistic, simply realistic.

All of the vampire assassins had been created over a thousand years ago, according to Morgan. There were only a handful of them. They were so lethal, no one had bothered to try and create more. Add into the mix that ancient vamps don't have to wait to be asked inside a house. They're that powerful.

My heart slowed. My lungs quick working. A painful chill swept through my body. I couldn't move. I wanted to be brave. Given half a chance I knew that I would plead with him. I didn't want to die.

"What did you speak about?" His voice was soft, almost gentle.

"He . . ." My voice cracked again. I swallowed. "He asked me to find a match for him."

"How did you respond?" He accompanied each question with a smooth slide of the cloth. I watched every stroke.

Transfixed. Terrified.

I licked my dry lips. "I told him that I would."

"What requirements did he ask for?"

My mind went blank. I couldn't remember. Why did he care?

"I don't . . . I don't." The words trembled on my lips.

"Think. Remember."

Ice wrapped around every part of my body now. I'd never been so cold. Or so afraid. My hands began to shake.

Why was he asking these questions?

The trembling moved up my arms to my shoulders. The knife harness thudded against my back.
Stakes
.

I could defend myself if I could reach one of the stakes.

My arms refused to move. I couldn't even run. My muscles had locked down.

"Ms. Storm?"

Another caress of the sword.

"He . . ." My teeth chattered. I bit down. "He wanted an O positive, athletic, brunette." It came out in a rush.

The cloth abruptly stopped.

Was he going to kill me now?

"He wanted a human?"

I nodded. I was beyond speaking. I stared at the gleaming edge of steel. Would it hurt? Would he gut me? Decapitate me?

I thought of my aunt. We were all that was left of our family. She'd find me. Morgan and I didn't have plans for tonight.

My aunt would come looking for me when I didn't answer the phone in the morning. She'd find my body.

He lifted the sword.

10. And The Lies Continue.

The blade made a soft hiss as he inserted it into the scabbard on his back.

"He is a vampire Prince. Why would he ask you to find him a human
match?"

I blinked, not understanding. Why had he put the sword away? He planned to kill me. I could see it in his eyes.

"Ms. Storm."

"He told me he wanted to come out," I blabbed.

"The Prince of the United States Vampires plans to come out into the open?" His red eyes drilled a hole right through me. I could only stare.

"Does he plan to out the vampires or the entire immortal community?" His oddly formal manner of speaking emphasized his questions.

I've met two other extremely old vampires before. They both had the same excruciatingly polite tone.

He shifted. I tensed. My hands clenched and I realized then that I still had my magic cupped in my palms. It had to be reflex because I could barely form a coherent sentence.

The leather sleeves of his duster squeaked slightly as he folded his arms across his chest. He made no other move. He waited for me to respond.

I replayed his last question. "I don't know."

I couldn't stand it anymore. My nerves had reached their breaking point. He either needed to kill me or leave.

He nodded once. "This may take longer than I expected."

He planned to torture me? Little black dots danced around the edges of my vision.

"Why don't we continue this in your office?" The movement he made with his arm was very courtly. I've seen actors in medieval movies use the same gesture. This was the real thing.

So at odds with the lethal tension, the gallant move broke through my terror. I began to ease my way back towards the front door. I did not want to die. Or be tortured. I squeezed my fists, the warmth of my power reassured me.

"Ms. Storm." I tensed to run like hell. "You will not make it through your door."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"I am seeking answers to my questions. I have no immediate plans to hurt you."

Somehow that didn't completely reassure me.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ivan Romanov. I am the personal guard to the Queen of the United States Vampires. I am searching for her son."

It took several seconds before his words made sense to me. He didn't know. Ivan was looking for the Prince. He spoke of him in the present tense. He had no idea that Xavier was utterly dead and buried less than thirty miles from where we stood.

He didn't want to kill me. He really did want answers.

All I had to do was lie like hell again.

I could do that.

"The Prince is missing?" I made it a question, as if I hadn't a clue as to what he was talking about.

Since I'm not a full card carrying member of the immortal group, I'm not privy to the gossip. I didn't know how much info was already out there.

Better just to play dumb all around.

"Please." Ivan made that grand gesture again. I headed into my office. Clearly he didn't plan to answer any of
my
questions until we were seated like civilized people.

That thought gave me a moment of comfort. That disappeared with the mental reminder that once inside my office, with the door closed, my screams would be muffled.

The door closed behind me.

I bolted to the other side of my desk. Ivan gathered his long coat and sat down. It should have looked feminine - a woman rearranging her dress. Instead, it was menacing. Like he had bullets sewn into the hem, ones he could unleash with barely a thought.

I moved over to the coffee maker. "Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?" I could do polite and I desperately needed some calming tea right now.

"No. Thank you."

The water spit and gurgled before it settled down to stream into the waiting pot. Almost immediately loud, high-pitched barking rang out from my other office.

Big Al had channeled away after dinner. I'd locked him in the office, because as a Chihuahua he had issues with my vacuum. Ivan had practically whispered his questions and I hadn't been much better, with the door closed, Al had not heard a thing.

Until now.

A bare whisper of sound made me turn around. Ivan stood in front of the chair, sword in hand. "Who is here?"

I didn't correct him. Griffins make a sound like a bark and Hellhounds do too.

"No one." I rushed to assure him. "I have a Chihuahua. A tiny dog. He's harmless." I prayed to every source I could think of that Al would stay a dog.

I loved him.

If Big Al channeled back . . . I refused to think of it. I couldn't lose him. And I had no doubts that I would if the hit man took over.

If Al started talking I could always use a silencing spell. He'd be pissed, but alive.

Ivan cocked his head, listening. A heartbeat passed. Then another.

His lip curled upward for a split second before he re-sheathed his sword and sat back down. Mr. Romanov didn't appear to be a dog lover.

The barking grew more intense. "Do you truly enjoy the little beast?"

I hummed a non-committal reply. I was not about to confess my feelings. He had enough leverage with his big blade and throwing stars as it was.

I turned around and began to gather up a tea bag, sugar and a stir straw. As subtly as I could, I also gathered up a few extra herbs that I kept by the coffee maker. I needed them.

I didn't know how much Ivan knew about me or my heritage, but I assumed he knew I was a witch. He seemed a thorough kind of assassin and I was a true oddity in a very strange community.

However, he didn't need to know exactly how rattled I was. So I kept my back turned, as uncomfortable as that made me, and quickly added the herbs. It would sooth my nerves and give me a slight boost in powers
.

No need to advertise
that
.

I sat behind my desk and took a large gulp. Of course, it burned my mouth. I'd heal that later. The most important thing right now was to down it all. A few seconds later, I accomplished my goal.

Ignoring my stinging mouth, I laced my hands on top of my desk and arched a brow at Ivan. The great thing about the herbs is that they work immediately.

My pulse slowed, the trembling stopped and I felt confident I could answer his questions without my voice quivering. He'd notice a difference but . . . I am a witch. You use what powers you have in the HC-community.

Ivan glanced at my cup. He nodded slightly. He could hear the changes in my body.

"Please, tell me again exactly what the Prince requested of your services."

Maybe he thought the calming herbs would add details to my memory. "Prince Xavier asked me to find a brunette, who was also athletic and O positive, to be his bride."

"His bride? Not for a companion?"

I clenched my hands. "I am a legitimate match-making company, not an escort service."

"I am aware of the services you provide, Ms. Storm." His nostrils flared as if he smelled something bad. "You cater to both our community and the
human one
." The slight emphasis on the last two words said it all.

The HC-community consider themselves superior to humans. Since most of them can kill a mortal with relative ease, I understood to an extent.

However, that bit of prejudice had plagued me most of my life.

"Yes, I do." I hadn't planned on my words sounding quite so confrontational. Ivan shifted slightly, his scabbard rustled over the chair cushion.

I got the hint. The little boost to my powers added a nice illusion of strength and confidence, but it didn't change the facts of my reality. Or who had the giant sword.

"Prince Xavier wanted a human match for his bride. He was most specific about that." I unlaced my hands and folded them on top of each other. "He told me that he planned to use his wedding as the start to his campaign."

"Campaign?"

The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. It crossed my mind that the prince was actually better off dead than facing this man.

"That's what he called it."

"And what exactly did his campaign entail?"

"I don't know." Ivan leaned forward and I hurried to continue. "He didn't tell me the details and I didn't ask. All I know is that he wanted to use his wedding as a way of coming out to the humans."

Ivan steepled his fingers together and rested them under his chin. His burning red eyes considered me.

The tea helped stifle my urge to squirm and I waited as patiently as I could.

"He did not say whether he planned to out just the vampires or all of the Supernaturals?"

I shook my head. I'd already given him my answer.

"And you did not consider calling the Queen to discuss this matter with her?"

"I'm not stupid Mr. Romanov." His arched brow questioned that. I ignored it. "I have no desire to lose my business - or my head – by relaying bad news to a very powerful vampire."

"You feel no loyalty to our community?"

I grit my teeth. "As much loyalty to it as I receive in return." I regretted my words immediately. I'd just made a critical mistake and I knew it.

His eyes narrowed and a look that I can only describe as sheer disgust flashed briefly over his face. A long silence descended.

"What time did your interview end?"

"Around midnight."

"Did you set up another appointment with the Prince?"

I smoothed a piece of paper on top of my desk. "No. I told him that I would contact him when I had located a suitable match."

"Did you see the Prince leave?"

"Yes. He got into a silver Jag and drove off down the street." Ivan opened his mouth and I quickly added, "He headed North."

"Did he tell you where he planned to go after your appointment?"

"No."

"Have you seen or heard from him since he left here?"

I re-laced my hands. "No." My heart beat normally. My pulse stayed even.

Ivan leaned back in his chair.

I decided that asking a question or two of my own would go a long way towards backing up my façade of innocence. "You said the Prince has gone missing?" I added a small frown of concern.

"Yes." Ivan drummed his fingers once on the arm of the chair. "He has not checked in, nor has he been seen or heard from since the night before last." He paused significantly. "After his appointment with you."

"He was totally fine when he left our appointment." Which was true.

Silence reigned again. Al barked and whined.

I held my ground and didn't volunteer any more information. I had a feeling I'd reached the end of my limited lying capabilities.

The crumpled body. The long, thick branch inserted through the chest. The blood glistening on the leaves as they danced on the wind.

I coughed into my fist. Definitely done lying.

Ivan stood abruptly. His body had been relaxed and seated then standing upright within the blink of an eye. I tensed.

He stepped forward, reached into his pocket and . . . tucked a small card in between my hands. "If the Prince contacts you, please use the number on that card to call me." He stood there for a moment, looming over me, his red eyes boring a hole into my mind as if he could read my guilt.

"Do you have any plans to leave town?"

"No." I slowly shook my head. Why did he care?

"Excellent." He smiled. His fangs gleamed brightly. "You are the last person to have seen the Prince alive. I'll be in touch."

He shut the door gently behind him. A moment later the outer bell tinkled. Al barked ferociously. I didn't move.

I considered placing a call to Morgan or my Aunt and immediately discarded the idea. Morgan was involved enough and I didn't want either of them involved in any way what-so-ever with Ivan.

Finally I got up, locked the front door and opened the other office door to let Al out. He ran around me in circles, checking to make certain I was okay. Then he sniffed the air and growled before jumping up on his back legs, demanding that I pick him up.

I collapsed into a graceless huddle on the floor, dragging his tiny body into my chest and hugging him close. I tried to put the recent events into perspective. On the one hand I was still alive.

On the other I'd managed to confirm that I was the NUMBER ONE suspect on the list of the most dangerous creature I had ever encountered.

And to top it off, I'd informed him that I was as loyal to the immortal community as it had always been to me.

Not at all.