Death Takes a Holiday (20 page)

“I am afraid you caught me on my night off,” Connor says, “otherwise I would have greeted you in proper attire.”

“What? A tuxedo and cape?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of body armor and shotgun.”

“You’re cuter this way,” I say with a sly smile. “Shotguns don’t really do it for me.”

“And what does, pray tell?”

I lean in a little. “Irish accents and crinkly eyes.”

He grins back. “In that case, we should continue our conversation upstairs? With a bit more privacy?”

I lean in more so we’re close enough to kiss while meeting his eyes. “Thought you’d never ask, your Lordship.” And the Golden Globe for acting cool while really wanting to run screaming from the building goes to … the corpse of Bea Alexander.

I take the lead up the stairs, not the best defensive position, but there’s not much choice since Connor gestures for me to go first. He stays a step behind me, making his presence known but not crowding me, though his hand on the railing is millimeters from mine.

Inside the small office, the fake Connor sits at the desk punching numbers into a calculator. There’s nothing here but a safe, file cabinet, fax machine, desk, chair, and black leather love seat. Just from the décor I can tell Connor doesn’t spend much time here. It’s too drab for a vampire. They enjoy the finer things, and this place doesn’t even have a window. The fact he didn’t bring me to his base of operations tells me he’s cautious. That he’s afraid something might go wrong. Not good.

“I am almost finished here, sir,” the fake Connor says. He bundles the receipts with a rubber band then jumps out of the seat like a scared mouse as Connor approaches.

“Please sit, Agent Alexander,” Connor says as he takes his seat behind the desk. I take the plastic chair across from him. The other vamp lowers himself onto the loveseat so I can only see him out of the corner of my eye. “Will your police friend be joining us?” Connor asks. “I believe I requested both of you.”

“Requested?”

“You are not here by force, therefore you are here by your own accord.”

“You threatened my family.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” he counters, “and if you accuse me further, I wish to view proof.”

“What do you call those two men parked outside my house? Or reciting my address?”

“Perhaps I sent those men to escort you in case you were unable to locate the club? Or merely out of courtesy? Gas is
quite
expensive these days.”

This guy is good. “What? Were you a lawyer in your past life?”

He smiles. “No. This one. The Fifties were dull. I am a member of the bar and all.”

“Then you know the law, human or otherwise. I have committed no offense to warrant your threats, overt or not. I am a sworn officer of the law, and I responded to a possible crime scene. There was no excessive force used or harm done.”

“And your police friend?”

“He’s a civilian and therefore out of bounds. I did call him and told him to be here, but I have no control over him.”

“So you were not responsible for his actions today? He was not acting at your behest?”

“Huh?”

Connor glances at the other vamp. “Neil?”

“At one o’clock this afternoon, the emergency hotline received a call from one Mariah Turner, who identified herself as the consort of registered vampire Moon Lipmann. Two Chula Vista police officers, Weir and Rupp, arrived to her door and demanded entry. When it was denied, Rupp pushed his way in, and Weir followed. A litany of questions regarding both the incident the previous night and your involvement with both Turner and Lipmann followed. When she refused to answer, Weir threatened to arrest her. He punched a hole in the wall when she did not answer. The two officers then left, promising to return until their questions were answered.”

“Oh crap,” I mutter.

“You can see our concern,” Connor says.

“Look, I had no idea he did that.
None
. The only reason he was there last night was we were together when I got the call. He followed me without my knowledge.”

“Who is he?” Connor asks.

“My ex-boyfriend.”

“Does he know about us?” Connor asks.

“Not at all,” I say.

“Will he let this go or do
I
need to speak to him?”

Meaning get inside his head and erase everything. Sadly this is the best option, but I can’t bring myself to serve up my ex to this monster. “He’ll let it go. I can get him to back off. If I can’t, then you can try.”

“That seems fair,” Neil says. “Better we have no exposure on this situation at all. It
is
the police.”

Connor mulls over this for a second. “Agreed. This is your mess, you clean it up.”

“Then I’ll be going,” I say with a smile. That was easy. I stand up. “It was very nice meeting you.”

“Agent Alexander, please return to your seat,” Connor says. “That was only the first issue in need of discussion.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sit, please,” Connor says with an undercurrent of menace.

Neil stands up, folding his arms across his chest.

“O … kay,” I say as I sit. “Next topic?”

“Oliver Smythe, now Montrose.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course,” I say. “What about him? He owe you money? Sleep with your sister? Or brother?”

“Agent Alexander, I have held this territory for over one hundred and fifty years, longer than almost anyone in North America, save the King. Do you know how I managed this?”

“With a smile?” I ask. “Or torture. I’m gonna go with torture.”

“By perceiving potential threats and neutralizing them,” Connor says.

“How proactive of you. What does this have to do with me?”

“Your mere presence in my territory could be construed as one of those threats.”

“What?” I laugh. “I’ve lived here for years.”

“That was before you became the known consort of an elder vampire who, with your assistance, helped to slay a Lord. You have already made overt threats and bodily harm to one of my subjects. For all I know you are here doing reconnaissance in an attempt to usurp my position for him.”

“Um,
or
I’m here on friggin’ vacation to visit my family for Christmas! And for the record, and I feel like I need to make an announcement on CNN or something, I am not ‘consorting,’ ” I say, doing finger quotes, “with Oliver!”

“You registered as his consort on legally binding papers in Dallas under Oliver’s human last name.”
Huh
? “He has fed on you on multiple occasions, even marking you. And you admitted to residing in the same house as him. Therefore, you are his legal consort and are thereby an extension of him. He can be held legally responsible for your actions and vice versa. It is vampiric law. Did he never explain this to you?”

I am going to … KILL HIM!

“No,” I say, trying to remain calm. Dead. He is so dead.

“Therefore, your presence in my territory, coupled with the fact you did not make said presence known as you are required to do by law, and your own known lethality at least warrants a conversation between us.”

Those violet eyes catch mine. There’s no malice or fear, just amusement. “I’ll bet you were top of your class in law school,” I say.

“Second,” he says with a smile.

“Well, I’m sorry for not registering with you. I didn’t know I had to.”

“Ignorance of the law is not a defense,” Connor says.

“Then I don’t have one,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “Look, I’m not here to do anything but shop, go to the beach, and celebrate Christmas.
Nothing else
. I swear on my grandmother’s life. I don’t want to usurp anything. I am in no way a threat to you.”

“I wish I could take you at your word, but I cannot. I am sorry.”

“So there’s nothing I can say? You’ve just made up your mind?”

The telephone rings and Connor picks it up. “Yes?” He listens. “Provide him a drink on the house. We shall be down shortly.” Connor hangs up. “Officer Weir is here. Right on time.” My stomach tightens. It’s one thing for me to possibly be at death’s door, but the fact I dragged Steven here is ratcheting up my fear.

“Don’t hurt him,” I say.

“I have no intention of harming him,” Connor says.

“And me?” I shake my head. “Look, I’ve lived here for almost twenty years without incident. I’m a Federal Agent, and so is Oliver. We don’t want your territory, okay? The only way we’re a threat is if you do something stupid here. You want to talk law? Then let’s talk law. If you hurt me or mine without cause, the F.R.E.A.K.S. will descend upon you like a tidal wave and remove you by any means necessary. And I guarantee you, it will not be pretty. Just ask Freddy St. Clair. Bottom line: you stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

He doesn’t even take time to think before saying, “I am afraid that is not good enough.”

I cross my arms and scoff. “Then what do you suggest we do, Captain Paranoid?”

“As I see it, we have three options. One is that you leave town and never return.”

“Not happening. Next?”

“You stay, I keep both you and your family under close surveillance until I find cause to kill you. Exposure of the vampire world to non-essentials, including your family, would be enough.”

Oh fudge. “I can keep a secret,” I lie.

“That is just one example. There are at least a dozen laws where death or imprisonment are the punishment.”

“Such as?”

Connor smirks and his eyes crinkle. If he wasn’t threatening to kill me, I’d be turned on. “I want you gone, Agent Alexander. If you do not know, why would I tell you?”

“Fine. And option three?”

He leans back in the chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “You renounce all ties to Oliver Smythe and become
my
consort.”

My mouth drops open. “Huh?” Okay, not expecting that. I was sure option three was a dual to the death, not what amounts to the vampire form of a marriage proposal.

“This would, of course, mean cutting off any and all communication with him,” Connor continues. “You would have to vacate your current residence and spend at least six months of the year with me at my home. There would be some feeding involved, along with sexual relations at least once, but judging from the high level of lust I feel from you, I believe that would not be an issue.”

I sit, dumbfounded for a moment, then say, “
Huh
?”

“Your pupils dilated and your respiration rate changed when you saw me.”

“Oh.”

“And I do find you incredibly attractive as well,” he says. “More than I believed I would, which is a pleasant surprise.”

“I’m glad?” I say awkwardly.

“I am very particular about choosing my official consorts,” he says. “In the last hundred years, I have had only three.”

Three ex-wives. Not a glowing endorsement. “What happened to them?”

“We grew tired of one another. I provided for them afterwards, even the ones I turned.” He sits upright again. “I would give you almost complete autonomy and the freedom to take lovers if you so wish.”

“Wow,” I say sarcastically, “a relationship of convenience. How romantic. Every girl’s dream.”

“It could quickly grow to be more. You intrigue me, Agent Alexander. Not an easy feat. And I am excellent at reading people. I believe we could easily fall in love with one another,” he says with certainty. “If you desire fidelity, I could promise that, as long as I receive it in return. And you and your family would want for nothing until the end of your days.”

“And all I have to do in return is quit my job, never see my friend again, and be your concubine?”

“That or you are banished,” he says. “Here or there. The choice is yours.”

My mouth opens to retort, but nothing comes to mind. Here or there. Him or me. Us or them. Why does this keep happening to me? I’m getting fed up with people forcing me to make life-altering choices to suit them. On my friggin’ holiday no less. “You do realize you’re forcing me to choose between my job and my family?”

“Yes, I know,” he says, sounding genuinely upset. “But if you look at it logically, the choice is clear. I am familiar with the exploits of the F.R.E.A.K.S. It is harrowing, disgusting work where violent death is a true possibility. But here, you will have not only your family but wealth. And power.” He smirks again. “Not to mention a skilled and devoted lover who would do all in his considerable power to make you happy until your dying day. This I can promise you. Simply say yes.”

Okay, is it bad that there’s a tiny part of me that is considering this? Very tiny, but it’s still there. He is hot, rich, and powerful. And … no.
No
.
Get a grip, Bea
. Don’t let the accent or animal magnetism win. “You’ve thought about this a lot, I can tell,” I say. And as the words flow I realize he
has
put a lot of thought into this. More than he’s letting on. This was his endgame the whole time. This proposal is why I’m here. But why?