Sins of the Undead Patriot (6 page)

“I didn’t, I’m just tossing out speculations that have come up.” She crossed her arms.

Could people have thought such nonsense of him?

“I can’t have some strange sex, drug, bondage or other type of scandal from you right now. This Bill is my legacy. If you can’t handle the heat, I’m giving you the chance to get out of the kitchen. We need to be squeaky clean over the next few months.” She rose.

The last thing he wanted was to derail the Bill. “Squeaky clean.”

“We are going to make history.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. Humans needed contact to deepen bonds. He preferred distance.

As long as he could keep this new case with the widow out of the way, they would usher in a new era. How much trouble could the widow be? For all he knew, she wouldn’t even be interested and he could be on his merry little way.

“I’m going to press the Pacific Northwest state senators for support, given I’m from out West. You work on New England state senators, as you’ve been making progress with the good old boys club.” She brushed back her long, wavy hair, exposing her neck. The light golden-beige hue to her flawless skin forced him to step back. He swallowed building hunger.

The strategy worked for him. “I’ll keep on them.” His comfort level around the West Coast easy going surfer types was minimal. As hard as that might be to believe, it was factual. Not that he enjoyed lamenting about the good old days much more.

“Perfect. I’ll get my secretary to email you with a date for us to meet again and compare notes.” She turned from him.

He shifted away. “Thank you, Kirsten, for championing the Bill.” He set the barely touched Scotch glass down on the nook.

“Don’t thank me just yet. If I live to see the Bill passed, I will accept your gratitude then.” A heavy breath escaped her. “I’m confident you can find your way out?”

The threats on her life from the religious right wing grew as the countdown to the signing of the Bill approached. Why one human wanted to kill another was beyond him. They had such short life spans.

Maybe the widow could serve them both. If he appeared to be dating, that would settle his public image.

Chapter 5

Music filled the grand room of the performing arts center, washing over Leera like a wave over the shore. Leera opened her eyes. Soft beige lights blanketed the dim space.

The hall went silent, and the audience rose with thunderous applause.

Meg and Peter smiled as she stood and clapped too.

“I’m thirsty.” Meg pointed to the refreshment area outside the double doors, then grabbed Leera’s hand.

One more place she could feel awkward with nothing to say.

“I’m so happy you came tonight. Peter is worried about you.” Meg wrapped her arm around Leera and squeezed.

If only her brother didn’t worry, she wouldn’t be in this mess with Homeland Security to keep him out of Guantanamo Bay.

A talk about her behavior was sure to follow. Meg couldn’t help but lecture her endlessly about how hard everything she did was on Peter. Whether she responded and if she said nothing, the same was true. Peter’s recklessness with helping Rowley was now her biggest problem.

“It feels great to be out.” She said what was needed to avoid further reprimand.

She and Meg waited in line at the juice bar. Though she loved her sister in-law, the woman couldn’t spend a moment in her own company or keep her mouth shut. Someone had to be with her everywhere she went. That kind of behavior couldn’t possibly be healthy.

Overhead hung flags from countries all over the world, which reminded her of the first time her father brought the family to the orchestra and the red dress her mother had insisted she wear. Peter got sick. Father was furious, and made sure Peter couldn’t sit for days.

Peter weaved through the crowd, then he stopped to talk to a tall bald man in a long, black, buttoned-up jacket and tailored matching pants. A round collar hugged the man’s pale, blue-toned skin. An Ancient. Not a lawyer. Growing up in a house filled with them, she could spot them on sight. Peter smiled then laughed and pointed toward them.

A striking gaze met hers. Vaihan Louchian.

Her heart pounded. His eyes were white with black pupils, and he had no irises. Inside, her stomach quivered, from fear or the way he examined her, she couldn’t be sure. God, it was happening. So far, Barton was right about Vaihan being there.

Meg lit up as she turned to Peter and the approaching male. “Vaihan, what a pleasant surprise, running into you here.”

“Megan, your radiance only increases every time I see you. I’m at a loss as to how this is even possible.” Hands clasped behind his back, he bowed.

“Motherhood agrees with me.” Meg’s cheeks grew pink.

Peter took her hand. “Yes, it does.”

The pit in her stomach tensed. Her hand shook.

The pointed dot of his pupils grew larger.

“Let me introduce Peter’s baby sister, Leera,” Meg said.

That was Leera’s cue to force a smile to her lips. “Hello.” She’d done this a million times for her father. It was just like old times. But now she was doing it for Peter.

The broad frame imposed over her as he stepped closer. A strange tremor moved through her core as uneasiness gripped her. Heat flushed her chest and up her neck, forcing her to step back.

“Good evening, I’m Vaihan Louchian.” He nodded his perfectly shaped head. Not a bump or an odd contour. “I can finally put a face to a young woman I’ve heard such great things about from Peter. I’m honored, Ms. Waltz.”

What had Peter said to this creature about her?

“Thank you.” If she ended the conversation, she could excuse herself to the restroom and hide. She couldn’t do this. Yet she had to.

“The baby is moving.” Meg’s eyes widened.

Peter placed his hand on her abdomen and she guided him to the side.

With a deep swallow, Leera moved further back. She wanted to run, far and fast. Hide. But where could she go?

“Would you mind accompanying me to the bar?” Vaihan held out his arm.

Trapped in a sea of choices she disliked. Stay and listen to the two lovebirds carry on about how blessed they were–and were they ever–or, get refreshments with a dead man she was supposed to get closer to. Didn’t they drink juiced organs?

Peter nodded approvingly. Guess that was his permission for her to go.

She forced another smile then looped her arm with Vaihan’s. The definition of muscle beneath the fabric was sizable. What else was... She cleared her throat. How could she even think such a thing? The man was dead and rotting, wasn’t he? Not that he appeared to be.

The place was filled with the who’s who of Washington. Vaihan acknowledged senators in passing.

“Do you not wish to stop and speak with them?” Growing up with a politician for a father meant she was accustomed to evenings out where she was to be seen and not heard. Exactly one of the reasons why she’d loved Jean. He had wanted to hear her every thought with great interest. He’d denied her nothing. Not even when she’d insisted he relocate to Washington with her. He got a post as professor of classical studies at Georgetown University. Her flirting had left him insecure. She hadn’t been able to give him the same love and nurturing he’d given her.

“No. I have a stunning woman next to me filled with interesting thoughts I want to learn more about. I’ve lived long enough to figure out which has more value.”

God, he was good. Why else would he say such a thing? Only moments had passed since they’d met.

“Thank you.” She pressed her lips together.

“Though you seem to be doing a lot of thinking, so far, you’ve been a woman of few words.” The flesh of his hairless brow line rose. Warm beige lighting shone on the light blue hue of his skin.

“I’m not much of a talker.” Once she’d been a chatterbox, but she’d changed these ten months.

“Are we really going to start our friendship off under the pretense of lies? Your brother said you’ve been withdrawn since your husband died?” He glanced down at her, and the intense black circles of his eyes held her captive. “At one time, he believed you beamed of life itself.”

Peter had said that about her to him. Why? What about Vaihan made her brother trust him, to confide such a thing? And how tall was he? Her head lined up with his collarbone. Six-four? Six-five maybe. At her five-five, he stood nearly a foot taller.

“I’ve learned how minimally people want to hear from you, when most of what you have to share is unpleasant.” Her friends had moved on with their lives and felt she was stagnating. Very few of them contacted her any more. The ones who did seemed to be checking up on her. Making sure she hadn’t killed herself or something.

“Too much time is wasted telling people what they want to hear, rather than what you have to share.” He glided in close, and the warmth of his torso radiated onto her.

At the counter, he smiled. “What would you like?”

Heat rushed inside her chest. Who was this creature and why was he affecting her this way? “An espresso, please.”

“Won’t that have you up most of the night?” He slid back curls from her cheek, his hot fingertips slipping over her skin sending a tidal wave of explosions inside.

The trail his fingers traveled burned. Her nipples peaked, pressing to the lacy fabric of her bra. Why had he done that? Shouldn’t she feel invaded by his touch? The moment had occurred in a blink, and yet she wished to relive his caress.

“I haven’t slept much for a long while.” The large bed felt cold and lonely.

“An espresso for the lady, and I’ll have a Scotch with a shot of puree repro mix.” Vaihan placed cash on the counter.

“All out. We’ve got a primary mix.” The man was round, and his two-strand comb-over suited him.

“Primary it is.”

A group of servers hustled behind the counter. Steam rushed out from the impressive coffee machine.

Vaihan’s stare descended over her curves. “Peach brings out the yellow pigments in your skin, giving you a glow.”

“Thank you.” Fire scorched her cheekbones.

“Are you afraid of me?” He stepped toward her.

She retreated. What a loaded question. The creature worked for the CIA, was trying to take down her brother through her and ate people to survive. Excuse her, if she didn’t buy the reformed song and dance. Cloned body parts were still pieces of humans, weren’t they?

“Allow me to alleviate any fears floating around in your mind. At my age, I need not feed every day, though I usually eat small portions three times a day to make humans more comfortable. I have no criminal record and I’m a special advisor to the president, so I have a stable job at a decent pay. I would also like to see you again. Therefore, consuming you would be counterproductive.”

A young woman hesitated, then placed an espresso and a Scotch in front of Leera, and backed away, eying him.

People could be so insensitive. “Are you bothered by her reaction?”

“No, are you?” Vaihan picked up his glass then rested his other hand in the arch of her back.

As she lifted her mug, the skin beneath his touch tingled “Yes. I think it’s rude.”

“You’d prefer she carry on a conversation with me as though she weren’t uncomfortable then come up with any excuse other than her fear of me for why she hurries off.” He arched his brow.

She swallowed. “Not exactly.” Was that his judgment of her?

“Isn’t that what you are planning to do?” He guided her back to the blissful couple.

How dare he? She barely knew the man...zombie, Ancient, whatever. Peter had given him the perfect in to make his approach. The poor lonely widow angle. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him.

“No.” She sipped her drink. The boiling liquid scorched her lip. Ouch.

“So you’ll see me again?” He smiled.

Whoa, wait a minute. He was double-talking her into going out with him. She shook her head.

“I’m confused by your response. You said you weren’t planning to blow me off and now you have.”

“I’m not ‘blowing you off.’ I just don’t want to be taken out on the basis of pity.” If he was going to ask her out, he could at least make it seem like he was interested.

“And you believe that is the reason I’ve asked you? Because I feel sorry for you?”

His thoughtful expression gave her pause. No, she knew it was to get to Peter, and ultimately, Rowley.

“It hadn’t occurred to you that I’m intrigued and attracted to you. I can’t make heads or tails of you, as you seem bottled up in that brilliant mind of yours, but I’d like to find out what happens when you come out.”

What a smooth talker.
Brilliant mind and peach brings out the yellow pigments in your skin, giving you a glow
. Some humans sought out zombies for the thrill. At least that’s what she’d read in
Vogue
. Bet he had a den of zombie groupies waiting breathlessly at home for him.

“Say you’ll see me again, as I won’t take no for an answer.” He exhaled in a long sigh.

She forced a smile then shook her head. He would have to accept she wasn’t going to make this easy on him.