They Come by Night (32 page)

“See that it is.”

“But what happens if another vampyr gets there before you do?”

“That won’t happen, but in any case, that isn’t your worry.” Why did she bring up these irritating possibilities? He needed her to plant the command. It wasn’t necessary for her to know that the reason he was restricting the amount of blood she could take was so he could drink his fill when he arrived shortly after she returned to him to announce the success of her undertaking. “But have you ever known me to fail in any endeavor?”

“No.” The word was offered so reluctantly he wondered if perhaps other, older vampyrs were aware of what he’d attempted and had spread it within the vampyr community.

But no, he was certain no one knew of his endeavor to impregnate the female vampyrs he’d created, and that was something he would never permit anyone to discover.

“I won’t fail now,” he asserted. Although the male and three females he’d sent
had
been unsuccessful in gaining entrance to Tyrell Small’s home.

He’d been tempted to rend them limb from limb for their failure, but with the rege placing limits on the number of normals a vampyr was permitted to turn, underlings were growing hard to come by.

He would wait for Rhiannon to return. If she had no better luck, he would have no other recourse than to reveal to the Crist whelp exactly what he was and obtain admission to his brother’s home through him.

He looked Rhiannon over again.

“Now go.”

She left, her white-skirted bottom swaying in what she probably thought was an alluring manner.

He shook his head. The women of his own time were so much more seductive.

He didn’t like the idea of other vampyrs feeding from the sabor he intended to claim as his, but once Rhiannon succeeded, he would dispose of her.

Meanwhile, he could do with a snack. Where was Miguel?

The rege frowned on feeding from normals, but as long as they weren’t drained or turned, he didn’t raise too much of a fuss.

On the grounds surrounding de Vivar’s mausoleum were numerous graves—quite a clever ploy if he thought so himself. Who would be surprised to find bodies in a cemetery?

And what the rege didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone.

T
HE BLOOD of this normal was exceptionally satisfying, almost as satisfying as a sabor’s.

His lips parted in a hungry grin, and he waited for the normal to cringe in terror. Instead, he just stared at him with dull eyes.

“¡
Joder
!” He looked around. “Miguel! ¡
Ven aqui
!”

“¿
Sí, maestro
?”

“This is for you.” He flung the normal toward his lackey.

A smile split Miguel’s face, and his fangs glinted brightly against his lips. “¡
Gracias
!” Turning him had erased the pockmarks and given him a semblance of good looks, but nothing could wipe away the cruelty from his eyes.

“
De nada
. Just don’t drain him. I’ll want him at another time.” After all, he couldn’t feed from the sabor every day. Those plastic bags of blood could be hooked up to this normal. They would keep him alive and make it convenient to feed from him. And of course that was a splendid idea, for hadn’t he, Juan de Vivar,
el Duque de Málaga
, thought of it?

He made himself comfortable on a sofa and watched as Miguel raised the normal to his mouth with negligent ease. The normal whimpered as fangs sank into his throat once again.

III

S
HIT
. S
HIT
,
shit, shit, and shit once more for good measure! Fucking bad, rotten luck! She’d been
so close
. How the fuck was she going to get herself out of this one?

What was wrong with her? Not only had she been unable to talk the sabor into letting her into his home, but then she’d totally lost her cool and trashed the normal’s van.

Why hadn’t Tyrell Small invited her in? She’d been so certain, and wasn’t it a law or something that a sabor had to let in whichever vampyr came to his door?

And why hadn’t the offer of a threesome tempted him? Back when she’d been a normal, the boys would have fallen over themselves to have a chance at that.

As for that little bitch growling at her—what did the mutt think Rhiannon was going to do, for fuck’s sake?

Once the anger was out of her system and she started thinking straight again, she realized there was another way to get into the house: the normal. She’d slip into his mind and get him to open the door for her.

She began to push, and found she had no trouble manipulating him. Another vampyr had been in his head before her, and thank… Whoever… for that. She might not have been able to succeed otherwise.

She rubbed her hands together, pleased at how much better it was going now.
You will open the door and invite me in!

Nothing happened.

Why was nothing happening? She pushed a little harder, but just as he was about to obey her, that other vampyr showed up.

It was the vampyr who’d been in this one’s mind before her—she recognized his signature—and she withdrew as fast as she could. The vampyr was kind of cute, and while she’d never had a thing for blonds, for him she’d have made an exception.

But something told her he was dangerous. She’d never met any of the born vampyrs, but she knew just by looking at him that he was one.

And if he saw her, he’d crush her talisman and she’d be dead meat come the morning.

Oh fuck. De Vivar was going to do the same thing when he found out she’d failed. He didn’t think she knew what was what, but she hadn’t been turned yesterday.

Think, Jane
.
Think!

She didn’t need them, but she took a few deep breaths to steady herself, and then morphed into a delicate mist. The vampyr who’d turned her should have taught her how to do this, according to Antonia, the Spanish vamp, but he hadn’t.

T
HERE WERE a lot of things he should have taught her, but he was too fucking busy trying to come up with a foolproof way to get a female vampyr pregnant—and thank God that was something she didn’t have to worry about. Before he’d turned her, de Vivar had asked how she felt about children. He hadn’t seemed amused when she’d replied she liked them but couldn’t eat a whole one by herself.

He’d stared into her eyes, and she found herself babbling that she couldn’t have children. And then there had been that pain in her neck.

When she’d awakened the next evening to find she’d become one of the undead, she’d discovered what a favor that med student had done for her. Antonia told her how she’d been turned, and while Rhiannon hadn’t minded sucking the occasional dick, the thought of spending night after night throughout eternity doing that was not her idea of a fun meal. Jesus, it was bad enough she’d never have another Big Mac or a Nathan’s Famous ever again.

“It does get monotonous,” Antonia murmured as she combed her long black hair.

“Let me braid your hair,” Rhiannon offered.

“It’s been a long time since anyone has wanted to do that. Thank you.”

Rhiannon separated it into three sections. It was thick and wavy, and it felt good between her fingers. After a few minutes, she asked, “Why is he so set on having a bunch of brats running wild in the mausoleum?”

“He thinks it will help him become rege.”

“Huh?”

“King of the vampyrs.”

“Gotcha. And will it?”

“No. No matter what de Vivar attempts—and believe me, over the past five hundred years, he’s tried many, many ways—he will fail. Only born vampyrs can reproduce.”

“Wait, vampyrs are born?”

“The most powerful of them, yes.”

“So why doesn’t someone tell the emperor about his new clothes?”

“And risk having our talismans destroyed? I think not.”

“What’s a talisman? What are you talking about?”

Antonia glanced over her shoulder, gave her a droll look, and took something from her blouse. Then she reached for a similar pendant Rhiannon had found dangling from her neck when she’d awakened. “This contains the soil of our homeland, wherever that may be. If it’s ever broken, we won’t survive to see the next sunset.”

De Vivar came striding in just then, all bluster and pomposity. “It’s time to feed, woman.” He sneered at Antonia, then turned to Rhiannon. “Rhiannon—”

She held her breath.

“You will go with Antonia.” And he swirled his cape over his arm and disappeared.

“Someone thinks he’s God’s gift.” Rhiannon scowled after him.

“You’re very young.” Antonia sighed and rose to her feet.

“Sit down. I’m not done with your hair.” Rhiannon stared at her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you just leave?”

“Do you think we wouldn’t if we could? But where would we go? Who would protect us from the master? From those bodyguards of his, Miguel and his shadow, Benito? They’ll follow his orders, no matter what they might be.”

“He sounds like he’s nuts.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Uh… crazy? Insane?”

“Ah.
Loco
. However that is, just remember, he is our master and has the ability—the right—to destroy our talismans with no compunction and no repercussions.”

Rhiannon finished braiding Antonia’s hair. Jesus, how fucking unlucky could she get? “All right, all done.”

“Ah. Very nice.” Antonia brought the braid around so she could see it. Yeah, she couldn’t check it out in a mirror. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Antonia tossed the braid over her shoulder and stood once more, all business. “Now come. I cannot show you what you must do, but I can tell you.”

A
NTONIA HAD turned out to be not only an excellent teacher but a good friend, even though in her previous life Rhiannon had had little use for female friends.

But now de Vivar was becoming even more unhinged, and it could cost Rhiannon her talisman.

Well, piss on him.

T
HE SOUND of the front door closing brought her back to the present.

The sabor, the vampyr, and the normal came out onto the porch, and that little bitch began growling again. They looked around, but they couldn’t see her.

Could they?

Fuck this.

“Just take me home, okay?” The normal sounded awful.

She smiled grimly. At least she wasn’t the only one who’d had a lousy night. She watched as the garage door opened. In a minute or so the car rolled out, the door came down, and they were on their way to wherever. She followed until the car turned onto the thruway and headed south.

Now she needed to cover her tracks. If not enough time had passed, de Vivar would assume she was lying—which she would be, like a
rug
!—and if
too
much time had passed, he’d think she dallied too long with the sabor. Either way, he’d take her talisman and leave her outside to wait for the sun to come up.

If she wanted him to believe she’d done what he ordered, she’d have to do some fast calculations.

In spite of what de Vivar thought of her, she had every confidence in her abilities. It would have taken maybe about ten minutes to get the sabor to let her feed from him. Actually probably less, but it wasn’t a good idea for Juan to know just what she was capable of.

Her mouth watered at the thought of the missed opportunity of having a sabor.

She shook her head. No time to regret lost chances. Although, seriously? Being that close to a sabor and not even getting a
sip
? That just left her teed off.

Okay, back to her calculations. It would have taken another ten minutes or so to persuade the sabor to let in the next vampyr.

She looked up at the sky. Dawn was a few hours away, so time wasn’t too much of a worry.

Okay… high and mighty de Vivar thought he was so great? Let him handle this shit.

She
intended to be long gone.

IV

D
E
V
IVAR drummed his fingertips on the arm of the sofa. He was alone, save for the normal. In spite of his order, the normal had been almost depleted. He’d had to cuff Miguel to get him to stop, and then he’d sent him away. Miguel had gone sullenly, but what did that matter to him? He had turned Miguel, and if the vampyr was unhappy about it, he could just as easily destroy him.

But now he was in a quandary. He wanted to keep the normal, but he didn’t want to turn him….

A rattling sound disturbed the silence of the mausoleum, and he turned his head toward it, frowning as he realized the normal was dead. Well, that settled that problem.

He was about to summon Miguel to clean up his mess when another sound drew his gaze to the double doors that kept the outside world where it belonged. The door opened slowly.

He didn’t need to rise and prepare to slaughter whoever was there: he knew it was Rhiannon. His heart, if it still beat, would have begun pounding in anticipation. The sabor was about to become his!

“All done, master.” Rhiannon shut the door and came toward him.

“Splendid, splen—” His nose twitched. “Why isn’t his scent on you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I came as fast as I could to bring you the glad tidings. Just like the Three Wise Men.” Was her tone snide? Did she dare? “And the wind blew it off me.”

Insolent little slut! De Vivar stalked around her, eyeing her up and down. “In that case, why aren’t you disheveled?”

“You’re my master. Doesn’t it make sense I’d take the time to tidy myself up?”

“That’s true. Very well, tell me how it went.”

“Like a lead-pipe cinch.”

He hated when she used the vernacular, and he frowned at her, letting her see his displeasure.

“Exactly as you expected it to go, master. He opened the door and asked me to come in.”

The sabor would let in a vampyr who was not even half a century old, but refused
him
, who had hundreds and hundreds of years to his credit? De Vivar ground his teeth. “And then?”