Forever Vampire (22 page)

He looked for his cell phone in the collection of personal items he intended to take with him. Green Snake slithered over his arm and across the stack of CDs.

“Where's the phone?”

“It was in your bedroom,” Lyric said, walking out to hand it to him. “That's all you're going to take along? Have you nothing of value?”

He shrugged. “What is valuable?”

“That you own? Your car, for one thing.”

“Drove it into a river on the night I met my mother.”

“What? Vail, that thing was worth hundreds of thousands. Didn't Rhys give it to you?”

“Listen, I may not know the value of mortal material things, or even care…” He slid a hand along her cheek. “But I do value one thing, and that is you, lover. You are priceless to me. There's not a faery gown in this realm that could begin to match your worth to me.”

Just as he kissed her, the living room window
shattered inward, scattering glass shards everywhere.

Vail pushed Lyric against the wall and yelped as a glass shard cut through his forearm. His body crushed hers, their eyes searching each other's, and he gripped the glass sticking out of his arm and dropped it to the floor.

She stared at his bleeding arm and ran her tongue along her lip.

“No time, my hungry vixen,” he murmured, yet regretted the refusal. Glancing aside he noted the fist-size rock on the floor. “Someone wants our attention.”

“I recognize that stationery.” Lyric bent over the rock. “It's my mother's.”

W
ALKING OUTSIDE TO
talk with Lyric's mother could be nothing but a trap. But Vail took comfort that the gown was still hidden. It could be used as a bargaining chip. The mother would never take back the daughter without that valuable item, or so he suspected.

Although, now that he thought on it, Lyric should prove more valuable to Zett than the gown. Unless he no longer cared if anyone discovered his mistake.

No, Zett would not stop until Lyric was dead. It would humiliate the faery lord should anyone discover he'd marked a vampiress for his bride.

Slipping his hand into hers, Vail paused in the building's foyer doorway. “Will you have me?”

“What deep thoughts are rushing through your brain, lover?”

“You've taken my blood.” He kissed her hand and rubbed the back of it across his lips. She in turn, inspected the cut on his arm, which had healed but left behind a smear of blood. “I want you to be mine. Forever. If you'll have me.”

“Yes, forever, vampire.” She touched a smear of his blood to her tongue. “I will have you.”

That answer put him over the moon and into the stratosphere. Vail didn't even register descending the stairs to street level, until he stepped out into the over-cast sky and rain droplets trickled from the roof onto his shoulders. A white limousine waited at the curb. Rain drooled down the darkened windows. He clasped Lyric's hand and tugged her next to him, kissing her on the forehead. “I'm here for you.”

“Touching.” The voice sounded from beside them, tucked in the shadows of the building's overhang. A petite blonde woman stepped forward as they looked toward the car and street. “You found yourself a pretty toy, Lyric.”

“Mother,” Lyric said sharply. Her fingers tightened about Vail's until he winced.

“This is Vaillant,” she said. “Vail, my mother, Charish.”

“We've met,” Charish said. “I see you've done the job you were hired to do, Monsieur Vaillant. You've found my daughter. But I suspect you have no intention of returning her. Is that Hawkes Associates' standard operating procedure?”

“I haven't yet located the gown,” he said, knowing the woman would not be such a pushover as her small frame suggested. “I never do a job halfway.”

“Well, I thank you for your work,
monsieur,
but now that my daughter is safe, she can return home with me.”

“Perhaps you should ask Lyric if she wishes to go home?”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Mother, he's right. I'd prefer not to return.”

Charish Santiago's jaw dropped open, but she snapped it shut. “I don't understand.”

At that reaction, Vail took a step back from his rigid suspicions. Was it possible Charish did love Lyric and really had no clue what she may have gotten her daughter involved in?

“I can't go home now, Mother, not while Zett is looking for me.”

“Because you have the gown we agreed to give him in the bargain. Just hand it over to him, dear. You know I will send protection for you.”

“The bargain,” Vail said. “To see the gown handed over to Zett in return for faeries? That's a crime punishable by the Council.”

Charish sucked in a gasp. He'd been right on one part. The woman was trafficking in faeries. He'd figured out the mystery. Yet, why couldn't he feel the satisfaction he should feel?

“You make assumptions. I'll not abide such accusations. Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, you're the matriarch of a family of thieves, murderers and liars.”

Lyric squeezed his hand, as if to warn. He saw in her eyes a misty plea. She didn't like his harsh manner with her mother. And he shouldn't be so cruel. She was Lyric's mother, and Lyric worried she was involved with a tyrant. The deal with Zett could have been a
desperate attempt to free herself. Would both women succumb and return home?

“Let's go, Lyric.” Charish stepped onto the sidewalk. “Tell Monsieur Hawkes he may keep the fee I paid even though the job was not finished.”

“You don't want me to find your precious faery gown?” Vail asked. “Zett won't like that.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, and if you continue to accuse me, you'll never live to see the next sunrise.”

“Mother!”

“Sunrises are overrated.” He put an arm around Lyric's shoulder and she melted against him. She was on his side—for the moment. “Nor will Lyric live to see another dawn should you allow her to go anywhere near Zett. There's nothing easy about leaving Faery.”

“I know that.”

“And yet you would have sent your daughter to Faery to make the exchange.”

“It wasn't required she go
into
Faery. The meeting was just outside a portal.”

“Come on, Charish, you know better. If you'd trusted Zett to not take your daughter why did you intend to send along demon guards? Be truthful. She was bait to sweeten the deal.”

“No, I—”

“For a vampiress who wears a faery mark, she would have stood on Faery ground less than a mortal minute before Zett slayed her.”

“A mark?” Charish flickered frightened eyes at her daughter. “What mark?”

Hell, Vail had forgotten the mother wasn't aware of the damning mark.

“There's something you need to know, Mother. I met the Lord of Midsummer Dark the last summer of camp before my blood hunger developed.”

Charish gasped. “You never told me that.”

“I was young and thought if I ignored it, nothing would come of it. He…marked me. I didn't know what it meant until much later when I dared to tell Leo.”

“You told your brother but not me?”

“I never dared tell you. You were so strict, and only let me date people you knew. I thought you'd keep me a prisoner forever to protect me—”

“You're damned right! I can't believe this. Lyric? Oh, my baby, if I had known, I would have never agreed to such a bargain. I would have never put you in harm's way. Oh.”

“I know that. I'm sorry, Mother. I thought I could buy some time by disappearing while Leo searched for a way to have the mark removed, and then still have the gown for you to hand over. I had no idea you were dealing in such horrid crimes.”

“I'm—”

“Don't deny it, Mother. We saw the Santiago crest on a faery in FaeryTown.”

“What were you doing there? You took her to that vile place?”

“Does it matter?” Vail countered. “Are you involved in the heinous crime of trafficking faeries?”

Charish hung her head. Arms clasping across her chest, she shook her head and touched Lyric's arm. “Your father has trafficked in faeries for decades. It's an easy way to make money. And Connie insisted.”

“Connie?” Vail asked.

“Connor,” Lyric explained. “Her fiancé.”

“Connie, Connor, Constantine.” Charish waved the matter away with a gesture. “He goes by so many names. Well, you know our breed has to change our names every century or so. He insisted this could be the deal to save our family.”

As if shot in the chest by a high-powered rifle, Vail staggered. What the Santiago matriarch had so casually revealed. Could it be?

Blinking, as if surfacing from a fog of dust, he gripped Charish by the lapels of her fitted suit coat. “Constantine?” He revealed his fangs to the woman, but she didn't flinch.

“Pretty,” Charish commented snidely, “but just for show, eh? I've heard about you and the faeries.”

“You called him Constantine?” he insisted again. “Your fiancé. Constantine de Salignac?”

“Well, yes. How do you know his last name—” The woman stiffened suddenly, eyes going wide, and clutched her throat. Crimson trickled over her grasping fingers and spilled onto Vail's hand.

Reacting, he shoved Lyric behind him. She stumbled, bracing herself against the wall. He leaped to catch Charish as she collapsed in his arms. The tip of a wooden stake pierced through her bleeding throat.
He reached to pull it out, but retracted, not knowing if the stake had been poisoned.

Down the street a dark fog billowed. It thickened and expanded, like darkness clouding over a midsummer revel.

“Lyric, get in the car!”

“What happened?”

“Just get in the car. And don't come out, no matter what.”

“But my mother?”

“I'll get her onto the backseat. Get in there. Now!”

She scrambled into the car and Vail kicked the door shut. With little time to make sure the mother was safe, he gently laid Charish on the sidewalk and spun up to meet the fog, which quickly formed into the shape of a man.

Thin yet regal, the silver-haired sidhe lord's violet eyes locked on to Vail's fierce gaze. Zett's red coat was open to reveal bare skin, covered over with luminescent marks that resembled mortal tribal tattoos, yet these pulsed and glowed as if alive, and some could even produce magic if touched with alternating fingers in a coded manner. At his hip a weapon belt revealed another wooden stake. The faery had the skill to throw the stake from long distances and hit his mark.

“Why the mother?” Vail called. “It's not her you want.”

“Exactly.” Zett's voice slithered silver upon black waves. His long fingers weaved before him as if concocting a ritual, yet he did not make a move to strike
with what Vail knew could be powerful dust. “I need the vampire bitch's daughter. But she decided to renege on our bargain, and so she must be punished.”

Vail fisted his hands and spread his feet, thrusting back his shoulders. He stood before the fallen vampiress, prepared to block any magic Zett should send at him. “You made a mistake when marking Lyric. Let her go. She'll not tell anyone.”

“You know about the mark? That's two vampires too many who possess such knowledge, Vaillant the Unwanted.”

The word was just a word, but it never failed to strike at Vail's soul when issued in Zett's scathing tone.

“What if I offer the gown instead of Lyric?”

He had no such right, but he wasn't thinking on game, and was allowing the faery to make him nervous because his thoughts were ruthlessly divided. Charish was engaged to Constantine? And Lyric had known, except she'd never associated the name Constantine to Connor. All this time, he'd been so close!

Zett sucked in a breath, and Vail felt the air grow heavy. The Lord of Midsummer Dark could command the elements. The very earth would rise up as his throne if commanded. “Where is the fucking gown, Vail? I need it.”

“Enough to sacrifice the one you marked?”

Oh, he did like to see Zett riled. Rarely did a sidhe resort to using mortal oaths. Zett stood as high as Vail, yet his slender frame looked awkward and spiderish. However, Vail knew that delicate bone structure hid
a powerful mien, and Zett would not stop to harm anyone who stood in his path to power.

“That gown would grant you power untold. And a certain status amongst the Unseelie. Still trying to steal the lost king's throne?” Vail put out, and then braced for Zett's retaliation.

The Lord of Midsummer Dark did not disappoint.

The faery touched the luminescent symbol just below his throat with his middle finger, sliding it around the circumference of the design. With a hiss, he commanded the rain puddles on the street, water slicking across the rooftops, and all the rain yet spilling down the windows and gutters into a hurricane that swept toward Vail.

Vail was hit with sharp, piercing water that cut open the skin on his face and hands. The water swirled about him, crushing him in a liquid cage that he could not penetrate with a punch or kick.

Gasping, he swallowed icy water and sputtered. A shout sucked in more water and he choked, heaving up gasps. He put up a hand, but before he could command his own dust, he remembered he was now clean. Defenseless against sidhe magic.

The cyclonic spin of water dropped to the sidewalk, splashing up around Vail. Had Zett given up so easily? Never.

Thrusting back his shoulders, Vail marched toward the faery prince. Zett gestured to the building exterior, and with his other hand tapped a mark at his hip. Bricks loosened from the wall and aimed for Vail.
The vampire blocked them with an elbow or a punch that shattered them into dust.

“You can do better than that,” Vail taunted.

“I see the mortal realm has been good to you,” Zett said, stepping backward.

“I'm clean of ichor now. It makes me strong,” Vail corrected. And indeed, he did not feel defenseless, as he had expected.

“So you've come into the taint of mortal blood?” Zett spit to the side, showing his disgust. “No surprise. You always were just another filthy longtooth.”

Vail lunged and delivered a fist to the faery's jaw. Ichor sprayed the air, yet Zett snapped back with an evil grin. “You want to play it that way?”

“I'm still owed a duel against you.”

“You think you have a claim to stand against me after I rightfully banished you for your crime against me? Ha!”

“Hell, yes.” Zett would deem it a crime that he'd been denied his way, though Faery did not mark it as such.

The faery lord narrowed his piercing eyes. The symbols on his skin glowed fiercely. “Why are you protecting Lyric Santiago? Have you finally bonded with your own kind? Have you taken her as your lover? I would congratulate you, but I'd rather rip your veins out through your throat and strangle you with them.”

“By your leave.” Vail offered an arm and tapped the thick vein. “Begin with this one.”

Zett blew faery dust into a billowing cloud.

Vail dropped to the ground, avoiding the cloud but sensing it would rain upon him in seconds. He snapped his legs forward and came up on the other side of the cloud as it dispersed and settled. Wheeling around, he grabbed Zett by the back of his neck and willed down his fangs.

“Go ahead, Unwanted One.” Zett chuckled. “Bite deep and drink well.”