Try Me (19 page)

Alejandro glanced at me questioningly. “I have your word?"

I nodded.

A smile curved Alejandro's lips. “Then I accept. If the perpetrators of this outrage are not appropriately punished or if any more demons try to harm mine, the Slayer will work for me."

Micah frowned. “I assure you, we are doing all that we can to find the thief and stop this terrorism."

"Do more,” Alejandro suggested. Then, without another word, he and his minions left.

"Whew,” Ludwig said on an explosive breath. “Boss, you can't—"

Micah stopped him with an upraised hand. “Not now, Ludwig. This is a discussion for the entire organization. Would you wait outside for a moment . . . and try not to get into trouble?"

The big man nodded, looking like a guilty child, and stepped outside.

Now it was my turn. Micah turned to me. “What the hell were you thinking, offering yourself as assurance?"

Sheesh. It wasn't so amusing when he used that tone on me. “Do you know of a better way to keep his vamps from hunting for demon blood?"

Micah ran a weary hand over his face. “I guess not.” But he wasn't letting me off the hook. “Do I need to say anything about you losing control there?"

"Nope. I get it. Bad Val. Bad Lola."

He raised an eyebrow. “That's not what I meant. I appreciate you helping to stop the fight, but I wish you had more control while doing it. You know that you can't go so long without feeding, Val. As you just demonstrated, the consequences are . . . not good."

Obviously.

Fang had to butt in. SHE'S AFRAID SHADE IS STUCK ON HER.

I glared at him and muttered, “Some friend you are."

HEY, KIDDO, I HAVE TO LIVE IN YOUR HEAD, TOO. YOU THINK IT'S FUN FOR ME WATCHING YOU GET MORE AND MORE WORKED UP WITH NO OUTLET? WHY DO YOU THINK I WAS SO GLAD TO FIND PRINCESS?

Oh. Sheesh, I hadn't thought about how my struggle would affect Fang and his libido. “Sorry."

"You need to come to an agreement with Shade or someone,” Micah insisted. “As you can see, your lack of control is affecting everyone around you."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll . . . figure out something.” I had to. Micah was right. I couldn't keep losing control like this. One day I might go too far and suck the life out of someone. And that would make me no better than the vampires I slayed.

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After I left the hotel, I went back home to get Dan. Gwen must have gone to bed or to work, Shade was sacked out on the couch with a demon watching him and reading a book, and Dan was spread out in Gwen's recliner, eyes closed as he listened to something on his ear buds.

I nodded at the demon watcher and decided not to disturb anyone else. As Fang went off to do . . . whatever he did with Princess, I headed into my bedroom so I could have a few precious minutes alone for a change. I'd wanted friends, yeah, but sheesh, there was such a thing as too much togetherness.

I'd planned to collapse on the bed for a few minutes, but I saw a wrapped package sitting on it. There was a cute card with a note inside from Shade: “I missed your birthday, so consider this a belated birthday gift."

Emotions warred within me . . . excitement—no guy had ever given me a gift before—and trepidation as I wondered what the gift was and what it meant.

I opened it and smiled. He'd found a couple of graphic prints with chocolate brown dogwood branches against an ice blue sky. Thank heavens, the gift wasn't too personal. I sighed in relief.

"Do you like them?” Shade asked from the doorway behind me.

I turned to smile at him. “They match the room perfectly. Thank you so much. But you shouldn't have."

He shrugged and leaned against the door jamb, his expression all swirly. “It's the least I can do after you've let me stay at your place."

I relaxed even more. That was a reason I could understand. “Well, since you insisted on taking the couch, how could I possibly mind?"

"Yes, but they could baby-sit me at my place just as well as here. I know Micah wants me here to make it look like I need more help than I really do, but . . . “ He paused, then asked abruptly, “Val, do you want me to leave?"

Oh, crap. I couldn't read his expression, but from the tone of his voice, I gathered he was maybe hurt or something. How the heck could I answer that? “Of course not—"

Dan stuck his head in. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?” Yeah, right, like he didn't know. “Thought you might want to hit the streets again while it's still dark."

Whew. Saved by the nosy partner. “Uh, yeah, sure,” I told him. “Shade, I need to go to work. Can we talk about this when I get back?"

He nodded. “Sure. See you then.” And he turned around and walked off.

Dan raised an eyebrow. “What was that all about?"

Ignoring the question, I said, “I'm ready. Let me get Fang and we can go."

Fang followed us to the truck Dan drove. Provided by the SCU, the silver Dodge Ram had an extended cab and doors reinforced with vampire-repelling silver. Fang leapt up easily—sometimes I swore that terrier had springs for legs—and I scrambled in after him. “So, anything good come from the briefing?"

Dan pulled out of the parking lot. “No. How about you? Anything come out of your meeting I should know about?"

"No."

WOW. SCINTILLATING CONVERSATION, YOU TWO.

I nudged Fang but didn't respond. I was tired of trying to act like everything was normal, like nothing was wrong. I turned to stare out the window, hoping to see some kind of fang to neck activity so I didn't have to spend another night locked up in this truck with a distant Dan.

After an hour of silence—well, except for the running commentary provided by Fang on Dan's probable ancestry—I finally had enough of it. “I don't like this any more than you do, you know."

Dan grunted but didn't say anything else. Too bad I didn't speak grunt. And I was sick of him treating me like a leper. “I don't want to be out every night with some guy who's afraid I'm going to rape him or something. I'm not exactly pining away for you like some lovesick kid, so just get over yourself, Dan."

FINALLY, Fang said with a heavy mental sigh. NOW CAN I GO DO SOMETHING MORE FUN? LIKE SHOVE A STICK IN MY EYE?

"I know,” Dan said briefly.

He didn't even sound ticked. “What?"

"I know. All of that. You're right."

Well, yeah, but Dan hadn't actually been seeing eye to eye with me lately. “What's with the change of heart?"

He stared out the windshield as he drove the quiet streets of San Antonio. “Gwen lit into me. Told me I'd been acting like a jerk."

GO, GWEN, Fang said admiringly.

Dan continued staring out the front of the vehicle, avoiding my eyes. “I— I just—” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Ah, hell. This is hard."

At times like these, I wished Fang could read his mind as well. But since he couldn't, I had to wait to see if Dan could find the guts to say what he's feeling. “It's okay, Dan. Take your time."

He nodded. A few minutes later, he said softly, “I wanted this to work out between us, I really did. But . . . “

Pain and regret rolled through me. I'd wanted it, too. “But . . . ?"

"But the age difference, the difference in our backgrounds, our working together, your super powers, Lola . . ."

"No. Nicole is a friend, nothing more."

"Yeah, I get that.” At first, Dan had been impressed by my so-called super powers, but I understood how some guys could feel intimidated. I just hadn't thought Dan was one of those guys. “You're right, too. Maybe demons and humans should stay with their own kind.” Less pain that way. Look what had happened to my father when he'd married a human.

He finally glanced at me. “Is that why you and Shade . . . ?"

"You and Nicole . . . ?” I mocked him.

Dan was deluding himself. The petite blonde obviously had a thing for my partner's hotness, whether he realized it or not. And he liked playing the big protective hero . . . which he couldn't do with me. A match made in heaven. But I doubted Dan would appreciate those insights, so I dropped the subject.

Dan, however, wouldn't let it go. “You and Shade . . . ?"

"What do you care, Dan?"

"I care. I may not want us to be together, but I do care about you. And hooking up with a shadow demon . . . not sure that's such a good idea."

"I am not ‘hooking up’ with him,” I said, exasperated.

"So what was it when I caught the two of you in bed together?"

Fang snorted. FOR A GUY WHO DOESN'T WANT YOU, HE SURE SOUNDS AWFULLY JEALOUS.

I sighed. “Let me ask you this. What happens if you stop eating to the point where you starve yourself?"

He thought for a moment. “I die."

"Well, when Lola starves, someone else dies.” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain it. “Look, if Lola doesn't . . . feed . . . often enough, she gets so hungry, it's all I can think about, all I can do to hold her back.” It used to be easier, before I learned to let loose. Now I sometimes felt like a loose cannon, about to explode and blow everyone around me to smithereens. “Micah is trying to help me learn to control it by letting her out a little at a time under controlled circumstances. And Shade is . . ."

"The feedee?” Dan asked, a smile in his voice.

"You could say that. He's helping me learn to deal with my inner demon, that's all.” And he didn't think of it as rape, like a particular cop of my acquaintance.

Dan pulled over to the side of the road near some park so he could look me in the eyes. “Okay, so what was all that tension about between the two of you before we left?"

Did I really want to talk about a possible new boyfriend with my ex-boyfriend?

Fang chuckled in my mind. AW, GO AHEAD. I WANNA WATCH.

Why not? Dan was a guy. Maybe he had some insight or inside information on how the alien creatures thought. And the darkness helped make it a little easier, somehow. “He's allowed me to uh, practice on him, but . . . “ I squirmed, not sure how to put it. “I think maybe he likes it too much."

"That's good, isn't it? You get what you need and he gets what he wants."

"It's not that simple. It's all mixed up with . . . other stuff.” Other stuff I was not going to talk about with Dan. Oh, great, now I sounded totally lame. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. “I've been avoiding him. That's the tension you sensed."

"You like him?” Dan asked quietly.

"No. Yeah. I don't know."

"But you feel like it's moving too fast."

My shoulders sagged with relief. “Yeah.” That was it—he understood.

"Well, why don't you tell him that? If he's a decent guy, he'll understand."

"You think?"

"Yep."

Fang crawled into my lap. WELL, WHADDAYA KNOW? DAN CAME THROUGH WITH SOME GOOD ADVICE.

"Okay, I'll try it. Thanks.” And I still needed to find the right time to ask him about Thanksgiving . . .

Standing up suddenly, Fang said, ROLL DOWN THE WINDOW. I THINK I SMELL ME SOME VAMPIRE.

I cracked the window and Fang's eyes flared purple. “Fang smells vamp,” I told Dan quietly. “But I don't see anything yet. How do we play this?"

He unbuckled his seat belt. “Why don't we go for a walk in the park, just a guy, a girl and their dog?"

Okay, we were going to play bait. No problem. “Chill,” I said quietly to Fang. “Your eyes are glowing."

He tamped down the purple and we got out of the car to stroll in the park. Fang put his nose down to the ground and followed the smells to a worn path into the trees. HE'S GOING THIS WAY. I THINK HE'S FOLLOWING SOMEONE.

I told Dan what Fang had said and we picked up our speed, trying to be quiet, but hoping to catch the bloodsucker before he could do any actual fanging. I palmed a stake and kept it mostly hidden behind my wrist. Dan pretended to put his arm on my shoulder while hiding a small crossbow behind my back. As for Fang, he was already armed with his weapons—teeth, claws, and the ability to talk anyone to death.

HEY, I HEARD THAT.

I grinned. You were supposed to.

Fang halted, one paw poised for the next step, and lifted his head. HE'S STOPPED.

I slowed and motioned for Dan to do the same. We crept up silently around a curve in the trail. Sure enough, there was a guy in a dark hat and cloak watching . . . a comely tavern wench?

MAYBE IT'S A UNIFORM FROM A BAR OR SOMETHING. Fang snorted. YE OLDE CAT HOUSE, LOOKS LIKE.

Weird. She did look rather . . . voluptuous. Maybe it was a costume from the Society for Creative Anachronism. Those people who dressed up like extras at a Renaissance Fair.

The vamp leaped out at her, she screamed, and I was on him in a second flat. I bowled him over and held my stake poised to strike, but the girl screamed again. “No, no. Don't hurt him."

Huh? When I paused, the vamp slammed his will into mine, trying to enthrall me.

Gotcha now, dude. “What's going on here?” I demanded.

The girl tried to reach for me, but Dan held her back. “Please,” she said. “Don't hurt him. We were just playing a game."

I stared down at the vamp in dismay. She was right. From the memories in his mind and the marks on her neck, this husband and wife played Dracula and the Tavern Wench often.

Oh, crap. I scrambled up off him as Fang cackled in my mind. “She's right,” I told Dan, pretending like I was brushing dirt off my sleeve but trying not to laugh.

"Who are you?” the wench asked.

"They call her the Slayer,” Dan said with a significant glance at our wannabe Dracula, who looked more like the Prince of Geeks than the Prince of Darkness.

OH, LORD. SAVE ME FROM GAMERS, Fang drawled.

I didn't realize a vamp could pale even more than pasty white. He scrambled to his feet and retrieved his hat. “I didn't— I wasn't—"

"It's okay, I know.” But maybe I could salvage something from this mess. “Are you part of the New Blood Movement?"

The vamp shook his head. “No, but I've heard of it.” He glanced at his very human wife. “I don't need their blood banks."

No, he had his own portable one at home. Ick. But he didn't seem like a bad sort. He had gotten caught up in one too many role-playing games, was all. Unfortunately for him, one of those games had turned real, and he'd ended up in a permanent role as a creature of the night.