The Vampire's Protector (6 page)

He rapped again. The vampiress crossed her arms and shrugged. Not going to open it?

He gripped her by the shoulders, but she tugged away from him and then, palms to his chest, shoved him back. Such an aggressive female. He wanted to make her do as he demanded. But he would not harm a woman, even if she was a vampire who should be strong enough to fend for herself. So he turned and banged his fist onto the metal. It dented in deeply.

Nicolo marveled over the damage.

“Wait!” she yelled as he raised his fist in preparation to again smash in the trunk. “That's my car, you idiot. Do you know how expensive an Audi is?”

“Not nearly so valuable as the violin within.”

He pried his fingers along the seam, but it would not give. Although the metal edge did bend upward in a crunching creak. It wouldn't take long if he persisted...

“All right!” She shoved him back and thrust up her palm between the two of them. “It's in there. You can stop destroying my car right now. And I will open it if I have to. But I think you should seriously consider what might happen should you get your hands on that thing.”

“Its music has already summoned me from the dead. What more calamity can it bring?”

“Oh, I don't know, everlasting evil? Literally raising Beneath. Dark and malevolent uprising of all the demons in the world?”

Nicolo winced at her dramatics. “Oh please. The conditions were that should I play the violin I would gain all the power owed to me. There was no mention of demons or everlasting evil. Though, trust me, that alone is terrifying.”

“The power owed to you? What does that mean?”

He waved a dismissive hand between them. “Open it.”

“You're not telling me something. You were
owed
some power by the Big Guy? Did you...
do
something for him that required repayment?”

“It is completely unnecessary to divulge because I don't intend to play the black violin. I swear it to you. But I must see it. I must...”

“Destroy it?”

He rolled his shoulders back and quietly said, “Yes.”

“Because you think if you do destroy it then all chances of you going black, dark evil will be destroyed?”

“There is that hope.”

“And what if destroying the violin destroys you? Caput! End of your new life? It brought you into this world, its destruction could take you out.”

“That is a chance I shall take.” He gestured toward the trunk. “If you please.”

She dug in her pants pocket and pulled out a key chain. With a click of a button, the trunk release popped but didn't open. “Idiot. You've damaged it.” She pried at it and heaved upward, to no avail. He did like that she tried, though. Such spunk!

Nicolo joined her, shoulder to shoulder, and curled his fingers under the metal. But before lifting, he slid a glance down her blond hair and inhaled her scent. Nothing like flowers or the powders the women he'd once known had worn. She was strong and confident. A certain sweetness lingered about her, but it was more like a calm measure of surety. No, he'd best not harm her. Right now she was the only person he had in this world.

And, odd as she was, he did favor her company.

“I am sorry,” he said. With a jerk, the thing popped upward, revealing the inside. “But I have to look at it.”

Within sat a violin case Nicolo recognized with an intake of breath. The devil Himself had delivered it to his bedside for one last temptation. A wicked tease when he could barely breathe, let alone speak. In those final moments of life he'd almost taken it in hand and drawn the bow across the strings. But then he'd thought of his son and how he would ever explain his sudden recovery and seeming powers. That he'd gotten it from the most foul evil that existed. That was no way to teach a child about right and wrong. He'd welcomed death, if only to be away from the evil that had stalked him most of his life.

Summer crossed her arms firmly over her chest. “Not even a note, buddy.”

He didn't intend to play it. Though the urge to hold a violin—any violin—was strong. To see if he could still play. While it felt as if he'd only expelled his last breath but days earlier, it had been a long time. Had he lost the skill? He waggled his fingers before him, wondering would they have the muscle memory to achieve the perfection he'd striven to achieve. Or with his newfound strength would he crush the neck and strings as he tried a scale or a racing arpeggio?

Nicolo leaned forward and brushed his fingers over the black leather case. It felt cold. Abnormally so. Perhaps the vehicle's air-conditioning had cooled it. Or perhaps it gave off the vibrations of the damned. He hissed at the thought.

Silvery whispers softened his resolve and lured him closer. His fingers trembled over the case. An entreaty to open it, grasp what was his, echoed in his very bones.

Tugging back his hands, he pressed them to his chest. Looking over the trunk cover, he eyed Summer. She wore sun spectacles against the waning sunlight, so he couldn't see what was surely a condemning look from her. He didn't want to disappoint her for reasons that were not clear to him. She meant nothing to him. And yet, as he'd realized moments earlier, she was all that he had in this world. He did require a guide, of sorts, to navigate this future world he'd stepped into.

As well, he needed some sort of connection to all he did not know, a visceral, even emotional anchor to the world. Someone to...hold his hand?

But neither could he disappoint his curiosity.

With a flick of his thumb, he released the one intact leather strap from the rusted buckle. He lifted the case top and pushed it back. Inside, the black violin gleamed like the devil's horns. And he had seen those horns. Too close. Too many times. The smell of sulfur had tainted his dreams many restless nights. The strings were taut, the bow tightened as if ready to play, yet the hairs were not aged and yellowed but rather clean and only slightly dusted with rosin.

He'd never touched this instrument. Had not heard its sound.

Well, yes, he had heard the sound. Just this morning it had summoned him.

How was that possible? The devil's bargain could not work that way. He didn't understand. Unless Summer was allied with Himself?

He again glanced at the vampiress. Still waiting for him with that stern demeanor he could feel in his bones. Or was she simply waiting for him to take it in hand and become the devil's slave? Himself worked that way. He could send others in the guise of temptations to lure Nicolo into doing his bidding. He had once almost rousted with a gorgeous woman who had wanted to hear him play the black violin. Only when her eyes had flashed red did he realize she was demon. He'd encountered many more demons wearing human costumes in his lifetime.

Was Summer another temptation? While unlike any woman he had ever been compelled to, she was gorgeous, in a rough, unpolished manner. More comfortable in men's clothing. Barely a curve on her stick-straight body. But those blue eyes. Not red, thankfully. And that smirking smile as she shook her head when watching him fumble with unfamiliar things. He did admire her.

Was that the point?

Affected by this ponderous query, Nicolo stood back and pushed his hands along his thighs to keep from reaching into the depths and drawing out the violin. Just a note or two? To test the tone? A quick scale could not possibly transform him into something evil.

He shook his head. No. He would not succumb. Not for all the power in the world. He was alive. He was seemingly more healthy and stronger than he had ever been. What more could he ask for?

On the other hand, why
not
test it? The diabolic whispers seemed to tease at his better judgment. They sounded like harmonics, the very tones he'd invented on the violin.

“Dude, you okay?” Summer asked.

Again he clasped his arms across his chest and took a step away from the trunk. “I'm not sure. It calls to me. And yet I want to run from it. I don't know what I should do.”

She leaned against the back of the car and nudged his arm with her fist. “Maybe you should start with an easier play first? I could drive you to an instrument store in Paris and we can get you a real nice violin.”

“Something not created by the devil Himself?”

“Yes. And I wish you'd stop saying that name. We just call him the Big Guy if it's necessary.”

“Good call. I'm sure the Big Guy is waiting for me to touch that thing. And yet? Who are
you
, Summer Santiago?” He peered deeply into her eyes, and she met that stare with an equally confident stare.

She challenged, “You think I'm working for the Big Guy?”

“Are you?”

She chuckled. “Did you see red in my eyes?”

“No, but—” Nicolo exhaled. “You do tempt me.”

“I do? You mean with my sexy tennis shoes and grease-smeared shirt?” She lifted the hem of the shirt to reveal a smudge of grease. “I think you're just desperate for any woman who crosses your path, am I right? I mean, it's been a while for you.”

“I am not such an undisciplined heathen that I must grab at any woman before me to satisfy my lust. I am simply disturbed by all of this, Summer. You must allow me my caution. And give me only truth. Do you work for the devil?”

“No. Absolutely not. Never. Nada. Okay?”

He nodded.

“You're thinking about things too much,” she said. “You're thinking the bargain has already been enacted by the very fact you are standing here right now. Do you feel any evil running through you? Do you want to do something bad or mean?”

“Actually.” He dropped his arms and held up his hands. “What I'd really like is to ask you for a hug.”

Summer's eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped open.

“I need something right now,” he said, speaking faster than his brain could stop him, but knowing it was coming from his heart. “Reassurance. Comfort, perhaps. Please, Summer?”

She balked, rubbed the back of her neck, then, when he thought she was going to beg off, she plunged into him with a surprisingly generous and comforting hug. Nicolo pulled her to his body and tilted his head down onto hers. He'd never done such a thing as ask for a hug before. It was a moment of strange emotional neediness. Because he was lost. A new traveler in this strange world. Yet old, so very old. And haunted by what he'd once had, and could possibly have again.

He felt her relief and saw images of her relaxing, smiling—yet knew she was trapped, as well. Something about madness? He wanted to know the truth of her, but it felt like a violation to read her too long. So he suppressed it by allowing his focus to stray to the violin in the trunk. He had but to play one note to own his power.

One note.

Summer tilted back her head and smiled up at him. “I bet it's tough. You are a man without a home or personal belongings. You've been thrust a hundred and seventy-five years into the future. And you're not even sure what you are now.”

“I don't believe I'm a zombie. A zombie would probably be snacking on your brains right now.”

“Touché.” She traced a finger along his jaw and then danced it back through his hair. Hair that he imagined could not look so appealing after over a century lying in a coffin. He needed to find some personal grooming time. “I'll help you,” she said. “Whatever you need, just ask. I owe you that much.”

“You owe me nothing. But perhaps I will ask for your patience and... I will need a place to stay until I can establish a means to earn money and buy my own things. I am like a child now, aren't I?”

“A handsome one.”

“You think so?”

“Very much.”

He bent to kiss her and landed his mouth against the corner of hers. When he thought how foolish he was being, and expected her to pull away, suddenly she adjusted her position and their lips coalesced in a firm and satisfying connection.

He closed his eyes and slid a hand up her back. Her body melted against his, and where he'd thought he'd had no curiosity earlier now he felt her breasts against his chest and his body reacted. His erection hardened. Excellent. He could still manage that. It was a strange but satisfying thing to confirm. He tilted his pelvis back so she wouldn't notice.

“Wow.” Summer stepped back and shrugged her hair over a shoulder. “That was...uh—whew!”

“It was the best kiss I've had in over a hundred seventy-five years.” He pushed down the dented trunk hood and managed to make it catch in the clasp. “Let's be on to Paris, then,” he said as he swung around and got in on the passenger's side. Mainly to avoid her noticing the hardness that tented his trousers. “Have your witchbox take us there, will you?”

“Sure,” she said, perhaps a little dazed. From his kiss?

He still had it. He could seduce a woman. And get it up. Ah, what a life he was going to live.

Chapter 6

T
he classical music station currently played Bach's
Symphony in D Major
and Nicolo enjoyed conducting as the moon rose before them and the car rolled into Paris. Much as Summer wanted to drive home, make a beeline for the shower, and then snuggle up on the couch and consider another kiss with Nicolo—her phone rang. Johnny's name flashed on the screen.

“My brother. Give me a minute.” She turned down the radio volume.

“You back in Paris?” Johnny asked.

“Just got here.”

“We're playing in an hour at La Nuit. Domingos's pickup is buzzing on the violin. I wonder if you could take a look at it? And we've a dead amp. Please, little sister?”

She was always available to fix anything when Bitter/ Sweet played at the local clubs. While the guys in the band were amazing musicians, surprisingly, they hadn't a clue about how to fix a loose solder connection or an amp that might simply have an electrical short. She was the tomboy; Johnny was the goth prince. Their father, Vaillant, was proud his son had taken up the black clothing and silver accessories. Not to mention Bitter/Sweet's grinding heavy renditions of more than a few Johnny Cash songs.

She glanced toward Nicolo, who took in the passing buildings with awe and wonder. Life was no longer the usual. She now had a dead guy to babysit. Former dead guy. Talk about stepping in it deep. Not only had she fucked up the mission, but she may have raised Beneath itself and now it wanted to chum around with her. Be buds.

Why did the man have to be so pretty? So sexy? He smelled delicious, and that was remarkable considering he'd climbed out of a grave this morning. And he was witty and bright. He was a musician, for goddess's sake! As with mechanics and bikers, there was not a single thing about musicians that did not turn her on. And this man was
the
musician. A classical music god.

A makeout session was definitely in their future. She wasn't ashamed to go after a guy when he attracted her. Playing hard to get was for the prim and proper. Both of which, she was not.

And she hadn't heard from the director yet. He'd told her to keep an eye on Nicolo. She could hardly let him loose in Paris with him knowing little about the twenty-first century. Though, he should be able to manage well enough.

Or maybe not. He hadn't a single euro to his name. And those clothes, while he might fit in with the gothic Victorian crowd, she really wanted to get him into a pair of leather pants and a modern shirt.

“Yeah, I think I can manage that,” she said to her brother. “Have to stop by the Archives first. Drop off a retrieval.”

“Awesome. See you soon, sis!”

“That was Johnny, my brother,” she said to Nicolo. “I need to drop the violin off at the Archives. And then Johnny wants me to stop by and take a look at some of his band's equipment. They're playing tonight.”

“Playing? A concert?”

She nodded. “It's a rock band called Bitter/Sweet. Remember the hard rock you liked? The woman with the rough and raw voice?”

“Yes, indeed. Very rousing and intense.”

“My brother's band sounds like that. He and his wife both sing lead. Johnny also plays guitar. They have a bass guitarist and a drummer. And Domingos plays cello and violin. It's a cool mix.”

“I am eager to hear this collection of musicians play live. Please, we must go.”

“I'm not sure. Maybe I should take you home and...”

“And what? Hide me away? Are you worried I'll turn into a monster and slay everything in my path?”

She winced and met his dark gaze. “Would you?”

“It hurts me that you would ask such a thing. But I know you don't know me at all. I don't even know myself. And that is not encouraging. No, I would not slay everything, as you so unkindly suggested. No matter what becomes of me. If evil should overtake me, I'll...control it. But if all that's happened is what I am now, I'm not so terrible, am I?”

He was the furthest thing from terrible. And that could get her in more trouble than she preferred to dive into. Emotional connections? Ugh.

“Not at all,” she replied. “Let's hope this is the worst that curse could produce. Maybe the centuries dimmed the curse?”

“Perhaps a person can't become evil unless he really desires it? I've never wanted it. But even if it was given to me, I would refuse it. I have to hope that my moral compass will keep me from becoming like...you know who.”

The creature they would not name. Could not. The last thing Summer wanted was an audience with the devil Himself.

“You know, history writes you as a wild and crazy guy. I wouldn't call you evil, but good?”

He shrugged. “I did have my moments. Gambling. Drinking. Whoring.” He sighed. “But those were not so much evil as vices. Truly, Summer, evil harms others. The only person I've ever harmed is myself. Not that I'm proud to admit that.”

“No, you're not evil. But the world has changed.”

“I wager vice has not?”

She sighed. “Still the same.”

He picked up her hand and stroked the back of it. “Is this okay?”

“Uh...yeah?”

“I find I get a read on a person immediately upon touching them, but then I can fade it out. Yet when we kissed earlier all I felt was everything in the now. It was something I'd like to do again.”

Summer pulled her hand from his touch.

“Sorry.” He tilted a look at her. “You were offended by my kiss or the suggestion for another?”

“Neither. I just...” What was her excuse? Why did she need one? She'd take another kiss. A no-strings-attached kiss. Because she wasn't keen on dating dead guys. But again, she wasn't against a fling.

Why did the man have to be so appealing?

“We should probably get going. Too many things to do.” She shifted into gear, avoiding the look he gave her, which she felt as a punch to her chest.

Yeah, she wasn't big on romance. So sue her.

* * *

Certainly Jones met Summer at the curb out behind the Council headquarters, where the Archives was also located. The Council's vast headquarters was located in the 11th arrondissement tucked amidst businesses and residences, but at only four stories high it remained unassuming with its red brick walls and lacking signage. The Archives twisted and labyrinthed a good seven stories underground. Though Acquisitions was in the same building, Summer had never been inside the Archives, but CJ's wife, Vika, had told her about it. A fascinating place, for sure.

As she'd requested, Nicolo remained in the car while she walked around to the trunk and met CJ there.

The dark witch was tall, lean and always dressed in black. His long black hair must hang to his waist when not tidily queued with a leather thong, as it was now. Spell tattoos covered his entire left hand. He looked like someone you'd want to walk a wide circle around on the street, yet Summer knew he was kind and gentle, albeit a very powerful dark witch with whom no man should be foolish enough to mess.

Whispering inaudibly, he smoothed the tattooed hand over the dent in the trunk, and with a few metallic pops, the metal rose beneath his palm and reformed into a smooth surface.

“Oh man, you just saved me hours of bodywork,” Summer said. “Thanks.”

“Who's loverboy in the front seat?” he asked as she popped open the trunk.

“Uh, just a friend.” Her missions were confidential. And she didn't want anyone from Acquisitions or the Archives learning about her slipup. “We're heading to the club to meet up with Johnny.”

“Nice. Wow.” He bent over the violin case, inspecting it without touching it. “Paganini's actual violin?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

Didn't want to say too much because if she started talking she'd blurt out all the stuff she didn't want anyone to know about. Like the real identity of loverboy.

“Have any problems obtaining it?” he asked as he lifted it out and carefully held it in both hands.

“Nope.”

“The case is exquisite. In perfect condition, save for the buckles.”

Summer nodded.

And CJ peered at her curiously. She knew witches could perform a soulgaze on their fellow witches. Stare into their eyes long enough and they could read their souls. But she didn't think they could do it to vampires.

“Something's wrong,” he said. Not a question.

“Everything's cool. I'm just, uh... Well, you know this wasn't Paganini's
actual
violin. This is the one rumored to have been used to tempt him by you know who.”

“Right. Which is the very reason we've been tasked to retrieve and catalog it. I'll have to put some devil wards on it. Just to be safe. Might have to look those up. Don't use malefic magic all that often.”

She certainly hoped not. And if she stood here any longer she'd probably blurt out the truth, so she gestured toward the inside of the car. “New guy. First date. He doesn't really know what I do. So I should be rockin'.”

“I see. Got it. I'll tag this and find a place for it in the stacks. Thanks, Summer. Have a good time tonight!” CJ walked by the passenger's side and bent to get a good look, waved at Nicolo, then frowned, but he didn't say anything else.

Summer slid into the front of the car. “Whew.”

“You're keeping me a secret now?”

“From anyone who works at the Archives? Yes. Only Director Pierce and I are aware of your rebirth, as it is. You're not supposed to be above ground. And until I can figure out what to do about that, you're just some guy.”

“Your loverboy.” He tilted his head and his eyes twinkled. Probably a reflection from the nearby streetlight. Had to be.

“You heard that? Your hearing is very sensitive.”

“Remarkably so. Want to make it true?”

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Sorry.” He pressed his hands together before his face and smoothed them down to reveal smiling eyes. “It's a habit.”

“I've noticed.”

“Apparently I've not changed so terribly much after such a long sleep. It makes me happy to talk with women. Your kind fascinates me. Whores, as well as the good and proper. Actually, I prefer a proper woman. I only ever resorted to whores—”

“Not my circus. Not my problem. Let's get going.” She shifted into gear and pulled the car away from the curb.

“Will there be women at this club?”

“There will be. But they'll be a lot different from the tightly-laced demoiselles you're used to flirting with.”

“Similar to the ones in the tavern?”

“Hmm, nope. This is a goth crowd. But there are always plenty of sexy goth wannabes in the mix.”

“Goth meaning Gothic in style?”

“You'll see what I mean when we get there.”

Did she really want to take him along with her? Induct him into the atmosphere of dark sex and seduction that absolutely oozed from the club?

“You sure you're ready for this? It's been a long day. We could go straight to my place and kick back.”
Say yes, say yes...

“No, please, I look forward to the challenge of these gothic women.”

Summer rolled her eyes. And then a part of her sighed and pouted. She didn't want her dead guy flirting with other women.