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Authors: Linda Mercury

BOOK: Dracula's Secret
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Chapter 4
Fuck the funding. Fuck those bigoted jerks. Fuck everyone who threw two underage kids out to rot in the street. His shelter might have fifteen dollars left to it, but it was going down in a blaze of glory. For tonight they would have a shower, food, and a dry place to sleep.
He spared one last glance at the vampire, backlit against the skyline. She shifted from foot to foot as though confused. Lance understood. Changing one's path was not easy.
She'd come or not. Right now, he had work to do. The off-kilter front door stuck momentarily as he shut it.
One werewolf touched Lance's arm, dragging his attention toward the deathly-still mission interior.
Every human face in the place stared at Lance and the boys, some pale with fear, some red with anger. People he'd known for years felt threatened by two wet, hungry children.
This wasn't like facing down the teenagers outside. He took a long, smooth breath. His mortal staff and homeless clients versus paranormals; caring for everyone against fear of the unknown; shared solace against the primitive fear of the Other. He couldn't raise his fists to concepts.
“Father Soleil. Are you sure about this?” Worry creased the teenager's forehead and his voice cracked. “We should go, say you were just letting us use your john.”
Without looking away from the human audience, Lance asked, “What are your names?”
“Josiah. And this is Jeffrey.” He nodded toward the smaller wolf. “We're brothers.” His whisper shook the silence.
“How old are you?”
“I'm fifteen. Jeffrey is twelve.”
Lance met Jay's eyes and asked the wolves, “How long have you been on the street?”
Jeffrey coughed and shivered as Josiah answered.
“Two years. Our dam was killed by our human neighbors. She'd been gutted along with the rest of our pack.” Josiah's voice turned far too old. “The courts let them go. No body, no crime, you know.”
The mortals dropped their eyes in shame at the words hanging in the steam-heated air. Some scuffed their feet, their faces chagrined. Every single one of them knew the rest of the story without being told. The boys had been left without resources and harassed by angry humans until they had no other choice than to hit the streets.
“Josiah. And Jeffrey.” Lance raised his voice so the entire shelter could hear him. Let the whole city hear him. “We can do better than this.”
The world held its breath as the species eyed each other.
The tension broke as Jay came forward with a blanket. “Come on, kids. The bathrooms are over here.”
Lance didn't wait to see the light of a new civil rights movement dawning in everyone's eyes. He glanced toward the street again.
The vampiress had landed six feet away.
Lance felt a jolt all the way down to the floor at seeing her up close and in the light. She was long and dark and sleek, a sword unsheathed. Her eyes were like a cheetah's he had once seen in a zoo—cautious, aloof, with sadness in their depths. What put that look in this woman's eyes?
 
 
Fascinated, Valerie jumped from her rooftop and across the street to land several feet away from the building.
“Are you really a Father?” the youngest werewolf, Jeffrey, challenged. “Will you try to exorcise us?”
“I'm a former army chaplain. I'm not active anymore. The name just stuck.” Lance stuck his hand out. “Nothing's wrong with you.”
Jeffrey sniffed at the man's fingertips, suspicion pouring from him. The boy did not extend his hand, but his face changed from wariness to consideration.
“Come on, Jeff,” Josiah ordered. The boy obeyed, stealing glances at Lance as he disappeared toward the back hallway.
She pursed her lips at the renewed tingling in her nethers.
Not Catholic. Not even currently ordained. She let her gaze linger on Not Father Soleil's throat. How very promising.
Valerie tipped her head as Lance studied her. The mission lit him from behind, brightening his nimbus. Her nostrils quivered at the clove-scented heat blazing up from his elegant, lean form. The intensity of his expression held her. The people behind him in the shelter broke from their frozen places and moved about the place, affording them a moment of privacy in the middle of their chaos.
He was gorgeous. Even the sick yellow sodium streetlight couldn't erase his high cheekbones and navy blue eyes. His full lower lip summoned her to kiss and bite. His worn shirt framed his chest and rippled belly. Lost in a fog, she barely registered licking her lips when she saw a line of flesh above the waistband of his low-slung jeans. Like a leisurely lion, he walked toward the open door. One long fingered hand touched the door as he leaned in closer, his eyes locked on her.
The world shrunk. Those strong, scarred digits slid, lazy and slow, down the edge of the door. His thumb hooked through his belt loop. He cocked his hip in masculine invitation to look and appreciate. The grace of him sent an unfamiliar shudder through her breasts. Its power rocked her back on her heels. In all her long life, had she ever felt an erotic blow like this? Her body wanted to know how those fingers would feel.
Her own cold fingers caressed the pit of her neck, little by little trailed down her torso, unthinkingly drawing his gaze to her breasts, then to her belly and hips. A tiny smile lifted the corners of his serious mouth.
Just a little closer and she could touch all that. Just a little closer, and her past wouldn't matter anymore.
“Won't you come in?” he invited her, knowing fully what she was.
The squeal of brakes snapped her back to reality. A news van careened down the street toward the shelter, hot on breaking news. She dragged her gaze back to his eyes and lifted her chin. Water ran down her cheeks.
No one touched her. Such was the price of her penance and she gladly paid it. Fantasies be damned.
Ignoring a strange tug under her breastbone, her gray shoes glided forward, leaving the glowing figure behind to face the barrage of questions alone.
She really needed to kill someone tonight.
Chapter 5
The crash of a breaking window in front of her interrupted Valerie's progress. By Lucifer's scaly eyebrows, what now? Exasperated, she blew her bangs off of her forehead. All she had done was cut through this forgotten, garbage-strewn path in order to reach her evening's true destination, the Governor Hotel.
A trio of baseball bats clattered to the ground in front of her. Male laughter echoed against the sides of the small alley. As she neared the mouth of the uneven passage, an unpleasant sight greeted her.
The boys from earlier tonight snickered as they reached through too widely spaced bars into the display windows of a pawn shop. Two pulled out watches and rings and shoved them into their various pockets. One grabbed for a guitar, but couldn't quite reach it. The leader, Chad, stacked video games in his arms. Obviously, they decided to work off their frustrations from being denied their earlier prey.
Valerie shook her head. Petty larceny.
If you're going to break the law, do it big.
A curse tightened her mouth. She refused to be slowed down again. She picked her way over the bats and kept walking, intent on her task.
Then they saw her.
The pack exchanged glances. Like a beast with four heads, they looked her up and down, lingering on her breasts. The excitement of theft changed to something darker and more violent. They dropped their ill-gotten goods on the ground. With the lazy superiority of youth, they followed and circled, trapping her between them.
“Well, hello there, honey,” Guitar Boy purred. Chad reached out and touched her hair. The other two, the watches and rings boys, sneered as she pushed his hand away.
“You lookin' for a good time, darlin'?” Chad propped his fist against the old brick building, blocking her in with his arm. The rest tightened their circle, like hyenas crowding a wounded zebra. Anger and lust from his skin teased her nostrils.
Their smell and movements telegraphed their intentions. As a group, they moved, boxing her in. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No one to come to her rescue.
They would throw her against the wall. She would reel, stunned. The boys would start off with a little light brutality, moving on to rape. They needed to recover face from their earlier defeat.
Predictable. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. Bullies were always good for a giggle.
Killing them would take hardly any time. That was her problem with young men. Once she got started, it would be so hard to stop. Like humans and their potato chips.
“If I were looking for a good time, I hardly think you are the ones who can give it to me.” She infused her voice with a warning. Would they be bright enough to sense it?
Unlikely. They possessed absolutely no sense of self-preservation.
Chad shoved her shoulder viciously, driving her toward the rough brick. Valerie smiled, her fangs still sheathed. Time to reinforce the priest's lessons. First, don't fight a battle with insufficient intelligence. Second, never underestimate your opponent. Third—
The air cracked as Valerie's hand whipped out from behind her.
Before the moron could blink, the boy was draped from her effortless grip on his throat, dangling like a piece of wet string.
Shock stilled them.
“What are you?” the smallest croaked.
She disregarded the question. There was more important schooling to pass on tonight. Like her third point.
“No. No. No.” Valerie punctuated each word with a twist of her wrist, shaking the boy in the still-damp air. “Never touch without a lady's permission.”
The taller of the watches and rings boys snatched up a fallen baseball bat. “Let him go!” He swung for her head.
Valerie caught it with her free hand. A quick end-for-end-toss and she shoved the bat into her attacker's gut. He doubled, gagging.
“I said no, gentlemen. I meant it.” Like a teacher, she folded her lips for emphasis. What would it take to get through to these idiots?
“Chad?” Guitar Boy stammered. “Is he alive?”
She felt Chad swallow against her fingers. “So far. It won't take much to kill him.” Call her shallow, but a taunt always made her night. Valerie stifled a chuckle. “Still want to give me a good time?”
“You would do that?” Watches and Rings stammered, his eyes so wide the whites showed all the way around.
“Are you really that stupid?” Annoyance made her fingers contract, ever so slightly, on Chad's tender neck.
“Ma'am, please,” Chad whined from his constricted throat. “My dad's rich. Just let us go. You can have anything you want.”
“We won't tell nobody nothing,” Guitar Boy pleaded.
“That's more than you offered,” she sneered. She held Chad out at full arm's length. “Why should I be more generous than you?” She turned him so he could look at her face. Her lips curled back in an ironic smile, showing her fangs in blatant aggression. She hadn't had this much fun in a long time. After she killed her target, she would make more time for play.
One of them whimpered, “Holy shit, she's a vamp!”
“They are all dead,” another protested. “She's a fake.”
Valerie couldn't help herself. She laughed.
His friends lacked courage. At the sound of her amusement, they turned and ran, expensive sneakers slapping against the asphalt. One by one, they disappeared into the safety of a traffic-clogged street. Sweet, sweet music to her ears.
“So.” She set him down, met his frightened eyes with her own cold gaze. Time for this young man to face a truth. “Here you are. Alone. In the dark. With someone stronger and more dangerous than you. What will you do?” She put her hands on her hips, awaiting his response.
He puffed his chest and spread his legs, claiming more space on the sidewalk. “Hey, lady, look, my dad works for Radu Tepes. I've even met him on our yacht. I know things. You can't hurt me. That's against the law.” Chad swaggered a step closer.
“
Kill
. Killing is against the law,” she reminded him of the most salient fact of the International Treaty. “Feeding does not count as killing, especially for my kind, who does not feast on flesh.”
“I don't consent!” he wailed.
A glimmer of sunshine teased the corner of her eye. The priest had eluded the press long enough to follow the boys. So much for a barely legal snack. Instead, she decided to reinforce her lessons.
“I can be very persuasive.” She lowered her eyelids in exaggerated pleasure.
Chad cringed when he looked into her eyes. If he'd been a dog, he would have tucked his tail and ran away yelping. Valerie could barely keep from smirking.
Stupidly, he tried another tactic.
“Come on, lady. I'm sorry. My dad can fix this, really he can. Just let me go.”
This was just too much fun. “Are you bargaining with me, young man?” Valerie took her voice down to a dangerous growl.
Even though he topped her by a good five inches, he cowered. Desperation crossed Chad's face. He threw the world's worst punch at her face.
She caught his fist. Panic drained his skin of all blood and crossed his eyes. Chad blacked out and landed on the sidewalk. Not amused with his poor showing, she let go.
Valerie stroked her chin. He had to be good for something. But what?
Almost-sunlight kissed her skin, loosened muscles in her throat and chest. Surprise jolted her. Lance was here. Somehow, he'd escaped the press and his shelter and found her. He walked until they were face-to-face over the boy's body.
For an eternity, Valerie and Lance watched each other over Chad's still body. Despite his blazing aura, his eyes stayed frosty, until they dropped to her mouth again. Blue fire lit in their depths.
They were complete opposites. He was touched by holiness. She was awash in gore. No wonder passion flared. She ran her tongue across her lower lip.
He smiled, turning his expression into lazy sensuality. He leaned in toward her.
Valerie's stomach fluttered like a virgin's at his first kiss.
Chad groaned.
Lance pulled back, his eyes cooling, an expression of serious regret on his face. Glancing down at Chad, he sighed.
Despite his attraction to her, she knew he cared passionately that she not harm the idiot who lay at their feet.
No eating from someone who couldn't give consent
. Tonight, Valerie could afford to be generous.
She nodded once, acquiescing to the priest's wishes. A corner of his mouth twitched wider in acknowledgment of her capitulation.
A smile would undo her resolve, just when she was so close to her endgame. She spun, coat billowing behind her, and leapt to the roof of the building above them. Distance was the only answer.

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