Serafina and the Silent Vampire (19 page)

“Oh, you’re right there. Two children’s homes and five sets of crappy awful foster parents. So great catching up with you,
Dad
. Run along and play with your vampires.”

There was silence. Then he said uncertainly, “They can’t all have been crappy awful.”

“No,” she admitted. “I just didn’t like most of them, and the feeling was pretty much mutual. And of course, there was Mattie and George. They were great. But Mattie went and died, and they wouldn’t let me stay with George anymore because he was a lone male.” She wouldn’t, couldn’t, go into what this separation had done to the already devastated George, but she couldn’t prevent the images flashing into her mind of his slow deterioration, so obvious to her every time she ran away to him. And yet they wouldn’t let her look after him, comfort him.

She kept the cynical twist to her lips and moved on. “So they gave me into the care of some other bastard who hit me and then charged
me
with assault. Happy days. So yes, thanks for bringing up the family connections, Nick, but frankly, I’d be more inclined to ally with Jack the fucking Ripper than my old dad.”

It was more than she’d meant to say and far more than she usually let slip, but somehow, she felt bloody good spitting out the venom.

“You hate me for not being there,” he said. “It wasn’t my fault, Sera. Rebecca dumped me, said she didn’t want me to have anything to do with the baby.”

“Not surprised,” said Sera nastily.

He sighed. “Look. I know I should have taken my responsibilities a bit more seriously. I was young. But we can start afresh now. I knew as soon as I saw you at my door that night. You must have felt it too. I recognized you, wanted to look after you. It’s not too late for me to be a father to you.”

She almost laughed again. Instead, she turned and looked him in the eye. “My father’s dead,” she said deliberately. George, her only true father, had died years ago. She’d never had the courage to find out if his spirit would talk to her.

“Then come for the money,” Nicholas Smith said softly. “Come for the fun of it. I suppose I can’t expect you to feel the family connection overnight.”

“Oh, I feel it,” she murmured.

Slowly, he stretched out his hand to her. “Do we have a deal, Sera?”

She looked at his well-manicured fingers, his shapely, cared-for hand. She wanted to kick it upward, make him hit his own face. “I’m not always honest,” she confessed. “I’ve scammed people, taken money under false pretenses. But even I have standards. And trust me, Nick, you fall considerably below them.”

His hand fell slowly to his side. “I’m sorry you feel like that.”

“Funnily enough, so am I.”

“You’re angry. You’ll change your mind later, I know, but for now… I need you to be safe, Sera.”

She curled her lip, ready to retort, but her skin prickled, and she realized too late that it had been doing so for some time. There were vampires close by, and they weren’t Blair or Phil. A glance at the window showed her the light was fading. Thick cloud, an impending downpour had further darkened the sky. Even as she looked, a shadow, two well-wrapped-up shadows, jostled the glass door of Serafina’s, and two vampires came in. Ella and Jason.

Sera bolted back to the desk that held her jacket and the sharpened wooden stake, but Smith was before her. As the vampires advanced, Smith held the stake in his hand. “Come, come,” he chided. “You can’t kill your client’s son, anyway.”

“I can if it would save my client himself from the trouble,” she retorted. Jason looked at her without emotion and kept coming. She kicked out, and he dodged without difficulty. Ella moved closer.

“They won’t hurt you,” Nicholas Smith assured her. “We’re just going to take you back to my house.”

“No point,” said the voice she hadn’t expected. “I’d only come and take her out again.”

Blair stood framed in the inner office doorway as if he’d just come from the flat. And yet she hadn’t sensed him there. It didn’t matter. The balance of power changed immediately. That was in Smith’s venomous glare, as well as in the sudden halting of the vampires. They might be in thrall to Smith, but they recognized a threat when they smelled one.

As Blair strolled into the outer office, Smith seemed to issue some silent command, for the vampires began to move again, blocking off the way between Smith, Sera, and the shop door on one side and Blair on the other.

Smith grabbed her wrist, “Run,” he commanded. She tried to shake him off but found herself being dragged inexorably toward the door. She kicked him in the kneecap, then brought her own knee up to connect with his groin. She missed only because he dropped her hand and leapt backward.

“Sera,” he pleaded.

“Fuck off.”

Her crude command seemed to be all Blair needed. He leapt so fast she didn’t see him move. But Jason and Ella were flung to either side of the office, and he reached for Smith.

Smith cringed as if he knew he was dead. His mouth opened, presumably to try to talk Blair out of it, but Blair didn’t wait. He lunged for Smith—and staggered backward as if he’d encountered a brick wall.

He looked briefly stunned. So did Smith until Blair tried again from either side and still seemed unable to cross some invisible line around him. Then Smith began to smile.

“I didn’t think it would work on you,” he confessed. “I am truly invincible. You people should really consider your options more carefully. So long, Sera. You know where I am when you change your mind.”

Jason and Ella picked themselves up and moved after him, giving the baffled Blair a wide berth. Ella was jerking her head, as if there was a crick in her neck

“He’s used a protective spell,” Sera blurted as the door closed on them. “To make sure his own guys don’t turn on him.”

Blair dragged his gaze from the window to Sera. “Well, that’s a pity. I’d just decided the best way out of this mess was to kill Smith.
You
‘ll have to do it now.”

“I can’t kill the bastard,” she said bitterly. “He’s my father.” Her breath caught. “Or at least, he says he is.” Hope sparked, faint but definite. “He couldn’t have known how that would alienate me,” she murmured, “and he was hoping to get to you through me.” Eagerly now, she crossed the room for her bag and found her phone, swiftly scrolling down for Melanie’s number.

“Mel, it’s me again. Listen, was my mother’s name Rebecca?”

A brief silence, then, “Yes. Rebecca Frances MacBride. I thought you knew.”

“I never asked. A child’s mother doesn’t have a name, does she? Another question, Mel. You know you said you didn’t know who my father was because my mother never told you?”

“Yes.” Mel sounded wary.

“Was that because she didn’t need to tell you? Did you already have a good idea?”

Another pause. Then: “I might have guessed. I never knew for certain.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t Nicholas Smith.”

In the silence, Sera closed her eyes, let the pain batter her.

“I’m sorry,” Mel said, barely audible. “I never liked him. I didn’t want it to be him. And I didn’t want him to influence you or—”

“Good-bye, Mel.” She broke the connection and threw the phone on the desk. “Seems there
are
some things even your best friends can’t tell you.”

****

Blair felt emasculated in some bizarre way. It had been a long time since he’d come up against any being stronger than him on any suit, and although he could see the funny side of it, being unable to so much as slap a puny and frightened human male was galling in the extreme. His damsel in distress however, seemed curiously unaware of her knight’s failure. In fact, she seemed to be lost in her own suddenly unpleasant world.

After locking the front door of the shop, she marched through the inner office to the open door of her flat. “Lock it, will you?” she threw over her shoulder. Blair followed and locked the door behind him.

From the top of the stairs, Sera turned and frowned down on him. “You were here all the time? Since I arrived this evening?”

Blair nodded. He wanted to impress her by leaping up the stairs faster than she could see and be sitting on the sofa waiting for her. It might give one of them a kick, but right now, he doubted it would be Sera. She radiated distress like a warning beacon.

“But I didn’t sense you. All I could feel was the echo left by the fact that you’d been here.”

“I was hiding,” Blair told her, coming to stand on the top step beside her. His body stirred at her nearness. There was an instant when he knew she felt it too, when her pupils dilated and he smelled the sudden musky heat of her arousal. But she brushed past him as if irritated by her own reaction.

“Hiding from me?” she demanded.

“No. From Smith’s vampires. From Smith himself, if he can sense me as you can. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire when they try to kill me.”

She scanned his eyes for a moment, then walked into the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, “You really think they would?”

“Kill me? Sure, if they could. If I don’t join them.”

“Do you suppose Smith will let them kill
me
? If I don’t join him.”

“No,” Blair said truthfully. “I don’t think he’ll
let
them. But he knows it’s a risk. Which means his spell only protects himself. How the hell do I break that?”

Distractedly, Sera opened the fridge, rummaged briefly, and closed it again, only to begin the same process with various cupboards. “Why is there no food in the bloody house?” she exclaimed, slamming the final door.

“Because you ate it all for breakfast.”

For a moment, her eyes lightened, softened. “You made me breakfast,” she observed.

“I had an ulterior motive. I need you to replace the blood I took from you as quickly as possible.” He took a step closer, touched the fine, blue vein in her neck with the tips of two fingers. “So I can take some more.”

He felt her moist heat as lust surged in her. “This is perverse,” she said shakily. “Did you hypnotize me to make me like it?”

At least she wasn’t denying that she
had
liked it.

“No,” he said, caressing her throat. “Most people like it. If it’s done properly.”

For no obvious reason, the soft tenderness in her eyes vanished. “Most people,” she repeated dully and slid away from his questing fingers. “Just another bite. Just another willing blood source.”

“And a damned good fuck.”

Her smile was bitter. “Is that meant to lift my spirits?”

“I don’t know. It certainly lifted mine. What’s the matter, Sera? I was enough for you last night.”

She spun away from him but not before he saw her eyes closing. “More than enough for me. Too much.”

He followed her and put his arms around her. Ignoring her halfhearted push to free herself, he drew her back against his body and listened with pleasure to the drumming of her heart. She radiated some deep desperation that would make for intensely passionate sex. The jumble of her need and lust washed over him, urging him on. He buried his mouth in her hair, inhaled her scent, listened to the pumping of her blood.

The vampire in him was already tearing her clothes off and pinning her to the wall. And yet he said, “There’s no food in the house. Let me take you out for dinner.”

He had his reward in the stunned pleasure of her mind and expression. She turned in his arms, half smiling. “You don’t eat.”

“No. But it’s damned sexy watching you eat.”

“You’re weird, Blair.”

He drew back his lip to reveal his fangs and she let out a shivery little laugh before slipping from his arms.

He took her to a place Sebastian had gone on about during his last “state visit” to Edinburgh. Almost in the shadow of the castle, it was atmospheric and expensive, and Blair could see at once what had so appealed to the older vampire. With its thick, stone walls, low ceilings with dark, exposed beams and atmospheric lighting, the place looked and felt medieval, almost gothic—a fitting setting for ancient, dangerous beings to wine and dine their prey.

Blair’s prey, Serafina, looked suitably impressed as she took her seat opposite him at the corner table by a window. Casually gorgeous in a fresh pair of jeans and a sexy red top that hugged her breasts and flowed elegantly beneath them, Sera gazed around her and accepted the menu from the waiter with a quick murmur of thanks.

“Blair, I can’t afford this,” she hissed after scanning the menu.

“You don’t need to. And if it ruins me, I’ll just arrange a loan with my banking colleagues.”

She glanced up at him curiously. “How
do
you pay for things? What do you live off?”

“My wits,” he said blandly.

“No wonder you’re poor.”

“Cheers.” In fact, he rarely needed money, but he doubted she would approve of his method of helping himself to whatever he required. “What sort of wine do you like?”

It was certainly easier in this age of sexual equality to order in restaurants. Sera ordered for both of them, including the wine he chose, while he sat back in the shadowed corner and watched her. He liked to look at her when she was unaware of him, see the play of expressions across her beautiful, vital face. He made conversation, just to watch the effect of her thoughts on her face, but ended by paying as much attention to what she said, because it nearly always amused or interested him. She had no shortage of opinions, some of them charmingly naïve, others world-weary and cynical. A woman of fascinating contradictions.

“What about the girl who works for you?” he asked once. “Jilly.”

“What about her?”

“She’s very protective. In fact, they both are. They came up this afternoon to warn me off.”

Sera grinned. “Did they really?” She shrugged. “It works both ways. We watch each other’s backs.”

“You and Jilly against the world? And Jack, when you let him.”

“Something like that.” She hesitated, twisting her wineglass between her slender fingers. “Jilly had a hard time as a kid. Worse than me. We never talked about it—still don’t. But we both found we could bear it in alliance. We even discovered fun. What do you do for fun, Blair?”

He waited until the waiter had placed the fillet steak in front of her and watched her inhale the delicious smells before cutting into the meat and placing a morsel into her mouth. Then he said, “I watch you eat.”

“That’s a new hobby. A week ago, you didn’t know I existed. Mmm, this sauce is so good!”

He played with the salad he’d ordered to look “normal,” pushing leaves and tomatoes around with his fork while he contemplated licking sauce from her thighs.

By the time she’d eaten pudding, he was so hard he could barely stand up to go to the bathroom. Fortunately, he discovered a young man there washing his hands. It had to be quick and clinical, so he simply seized him, stared at him to prevent the startled shout already forming in his throat, and bit into his flesh. The blood was a relief; the old, familiar pleasure kicked in as it always did. But it was easy to stop, easy to close the wound and release the boy from his trance with a quick apologetic grin, as if he’d just bumped into him by accident. No regrets, no desire for more. His blood wasn’t Serafina’s.

Later, as they left the restaurant, she paused to gaze up at the ancient, looming castle. Her lips tugged upward into a lopsided smile. “One of the few things in this city that’s older than you.”

“I like the mixture of older and newer—it’s one reason I keep coming back here.”

“I’ve never been anywhere else.”

“What, never?”

“Well, Glasgow. A couple of places up north and a weekend trip to York. I’ve never even been to London, let alone abroad.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I’m too comfortable. And to go abroad, I’d need a passport. To get one of those, I’d need my birth certificate. For some reason, I never wanted to see it.”

“Because it would solve the mystery?”

“Maybe.”

He took her hand to lead her up the hill. “Well, you have the certificate now.”

“So I do. Who needs mystery when they have a passport?”

“Exactly.”

He felt her gaze on his face, warm like the flesh of her fingers lightly clasping his. She said, “Is that what you do when you get bored? Travel?”

Unnerved, he glanced at her. “I suppose I used to, when I could.”

“You’ve lived more than four human lifetimes,” she mused. “As the song says, ‘Who wants to live forever?’ Do you never feel that?”

He kept his mind silent. He didn’t know what to say, and yet dishonesty would lose the moment of closeness that he had no idea why he valued. Her eyes slid away from his, and he felt her leaving at the same time.

“Boredom is the curse of the vampire,” he quoted desperately. “It’s the reason very few of us are truly immortal. We die because we lose the will to exist.”

Her eyes seemed to pierce him. “Have you ever felt that way?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

For a moment, she stared into his eyes as if waiting for more or perhaps just mulling it over. Again, he wondered if she’d picked up anything about him from touching stuff in his flat.

And then she frowned again. “Is that why Phil drinks?”

“No, Phil’s drinking is partly addiction and partly affectation. He enjoys his vampirism.”

“Like you?”

Sneaky, coming back at him when he’d relaxed, but he was able to curl his lip and say dryly, “Not quite like me.”

It was only later that he realized she’d turned the tables on him, invading his secrecy to preserve her own. Two creatures who could read each other’s minds.

****

He could barely wait until they were inside her flat. He followed her in, turned with her as she closed the door, and hemmed her there with his hands on the wall on either side of her head. She stared at him, her eyes dilating, her lips trembling as he bent to take them.

But again, she surprised him, ducking under his left arm and bolting for the kitchen. He felt her shyness unexpected after last night’s uninhibited lovemaking, a knowledge that tonight would make it more than a one-night stand. Humans were obsessed with numbers. But beyond that, beyond even her undoubted desire for him, lay a wealth of confused, desperate emotions that the night’s outing hadn’t dissipated, merely postponed.

Well, if she wanted to take her mind off her troubles, Blair was just the vampire to help. He walked into the kitchen after her, took the kettle from her hands, set it down, and turned her into his arms. Her fingers gripped his shoulders tightly, then slid around his neck and held on to his hair like a drowning woman clinging to seaweed.

“Blair, I—”

He sent her an image of them entwined, still semi-clothed against the kitchen door, and her words dried up in her throat. She swallowed convulsively.

“Yes?” he said in her mind. “Right here, right now?”

Her breath caught. Her heart drummed in her breast, drowning out her thoughts—or perhaps his. He didn’t care, for she suddenly pulled his head down and latched her mouth to his. He pushed her backward into the door, letting their combined weight close it tight as he pressed close into her. She let out a moan that inflamed him even further. She licked his fangs, sealing her fate for the night, and he swept his hands downward over the sides of her breasts and hips. He parted her legs with his knee, and she pushed against his thigh as if she couldn’t help it.

There was a new desperation in her kisses, in her urgency, and Blair was more than happy to fill her needs. He moved her body with him, as if dancing, while he unfastened her jeans and pushed them down over her hips and thighs. Then he slid one hand up her body, pushing her top out of the way and freeing her breasts. In a movement that must have made her dizzy, he whisked her upward against the door, bracing her high enough that he could kiss her exposed breasts with ease. Her nipples were hard and responsive to every caress of his lips and tongue; her skin tasted of sunshine and fresh flowers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, holding him to her breasts. It was sweet, it was sexy, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Her hands were on his jeans now, trembling, fumbling with his buttons. He did it for her, brushing her hands aside. He lifted his head from her breast, devouring her lust-clouded face with his eyes. Her parted lips were full and red with kisses, her cheeks flushed with passion. He lifted one of her legs, dragging it free of her jeans to hook it over his hip. He caressed her thigh and smooth, curving buttock, let her feel the hardness of his cock, stroking it along the devastating wetness between her thighs. She leaned on him, using him as leverage to lift and impale herself upon him. She gasped, closing her eyes with the shock. She felt amazing, a hot, firm, velvet sheath pulsing around him. She even smiled with wicked triumph straight into his eyes. If he’d had a voice, he’d have growled or howled with triumph. He thrust into her hard.

Although not the seduction he’d intended as he’d waited and planned in the long hours of daylight, he took it anyway. And she didn’t just accept this urgency; she insisted on it. Twisting and writhing on him, she moaned aloud with pleasure as he hammered her against the kitchen door.

At such a fever pitch, she couldn’t last. Her knees buckled as she fell into orgasm, but he was enjoying it far too much to surrender just yet to his own clamoring climax. He loved the juddering, hugging caress of her convulsions. And so he gave her a bonus, increasing the speed of his thrusts well beyond what a human could possibly achieve or even see. Her head fell back against the door, revealing her pale, graceful neck, flushed now with passion, its veins standing out blue, beautiful and oh so tempting as he fucked her. He knew from experience that the inhuman speed of his movements inside her could hold her in intense orgasm for several minutes. But he didn’t think she could take that, not yet. And besides, he needed a distraction from her beautiful, throbbing vein. And so he pushed himself as deep inside her as he could get and let go.

Christ, it was good. It had been a long time since a knee trembler had dragged him to the floor with the explosive force of its climax. But at least he took her with him, rolling half under the table to keep himself inside her delectable body while the storm raged and slowly calmed.

“Neat trick,” she said shakily when she could form the words.

“I’ve always thought so.”

****

Blair lay beside her in her bed, enveloped in the warm darkness, listening to her breathing. Warning bells were going off all over his head. Not just because he liked screwing this human girl too much, but because he liked
this
too much too—just lying beside her, hearing the beat of her heart and the even rise and fall of her lungs. He wanted to keep her safe and keep her with him. And that, as he well knew, did not lead to a peaceful happy ever after.

Well, who needed peace?

He smiled and let himself drift off into the aware half sleep of the vampire.

It seemed only minutes later that he felt Sera rise and walk across the room to the door. He blinked himself fully awake. A few moments later, he heard the toilet flush and the splash of water from the bathroom tap. And then silence. But she didn’t return to bed.

With anyone else, he might have used telepathy to find out what they were doing. With Sera, it seemed too much like spying. He seemed to have to wear his honorable schoolboy hat around her.

He rose from the bed and left the room.

He almost didn’t notice her at first. The light was off, but that didn’t matter—he could see in the dark. He’d taken several steps into the living room before he caught sight of her.

She sat naked on the floor with her back against the sofa and her knees drawn up in front of her. Her face was hidden in her knees, and her whole body shook convulsively.

He’d never seen a human cry silently. Not since his mother.

The knowledge held him paralyzed. Which was a good thing. She was too lost in her own misery to know he was there. She didn’t want him there. It would be easy and far better for both of them if he just crawled back to bed and left her to it.

Or he could go out and feed. His snack in the restaurant really wasn’t enough to keep body and soullessness together.

He went to the sofa and sat down. Her heaving shoulders stilled. There was a muffled gulp, then silence. He laid his hand on her head, gently stroking.

“Don’t,” she gasped.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be
kind
to me!” With a broken-off sob, she turned onto him, burying her face in his knee instead.

He bent and put his arms around her. “I’m not being kind. I just want more sex.”

At least it raised a watery sound that might have been a laugh. She knew it wasn’t true. That was another thing he liked about her. Most people, human and vampire, took his jokes at face value.

For a long moment, they just stayed like that. Then he made her lift her face to his. Her eyes shone still with brimming tears while the stains and drips from earlier ones ran down her cheeks.

“Still want that sex?” she asked ruefully.

“Always.” He brushed her tears with his thumb. “I know I’m a vampire, but it’s not usually the sex that makes women cry.”

“Oh, it isn’t you, you self-centered—male.”

“Then who’s making you so unhappy?”

She dashed her hand across her eyes. “Nicholas Smith, of course.”

Human relationships. He was lucky to be shot of them. “Not the best father you could have wished for,” he acknowledged.

“Why not?” she retorted. “He cheats like me. He’s even—” She broke off, leaving no more than an echo in the air, but it was enough for him to understand. Fighting his detaining hand, she dropped her face back onto his naked thigh.