by Seana Kelly
As if on cue, a woman sat down at the bar and eyed Tara with interest.
I took a long, last draw, fished two twenties from my pocket and left them next to my empty coconut.
Tara placed her hand over the money, tapped the bar with her finger, and winked. “You come on back and see me again, Sam.” When she turned to the end of the bar, directing her smile at the lone woman waiting, I felt cold. She’d taken her light and warmth away, and I already missed her. I also realized that she’d slipped a scrap of paper under my hand. Damn, she was good.
Dave pulled my jacket to get me moving. “Stop staring.”
Stumbling off my stool and pocketing the note, I followed him out. As we climbed the dark, narrow staircase to the street entrance, I pulled out the note and read. ‘2 a.m. Come back alone.’ I actually had a confusing moment wondering if Tara was asking me back to put the moves on me before I realized she just didn’t want to talk demon business in front of Dave.
When the cold, San Francisco wind hit me, my lust-clouded mind cleared. “Now what?”
Dave turned, brow furrowed. “‘Now what’ what?”
“I mean, where are we going now? Who are we questioning?” I clapped my hands. “Who’s next on our list?”
A bell rang out in the dark as the Powell Street cable car made it to the bottom of one hill, across the intersection, and started down the next steep drop. The cable car held a quiet smattering of people. It was too late for the tourists. These looked like locals heading home. The acrid scent of burning wood brake was pungent in the air but there was something under it. Something familiar. Something that raised my hackles.
I scanned the darkened streets. Pale yellow streetlights reflected off wet asphalt. We were being watched. I could feel it. My eyes went straight to a narrow gap between buildings more than a hundred yards away. A figure stood, dressed in dark clothes, hoodie pulled up, barely silhouetted against the gloom. He stepped out and walked quickly, silently, to the corner and turned down Mason Street. It was the wolf from the Marina. The entire encounter had lasted only a second, but I knew it was him. I could feel his curiosity from here.
“No list. I’m taking you home. I’ve got other shit to do.”
I shook it off. “Come on. There’s gotta be other dem—”
Dave cleared his throat and gave me a dirty look.
“Relatives. I was going to say relatives.”
“Sure you were.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and hit the fob. His car chirped as the doors unlocked.
Pouting, I dropped into the passenger seat and tried again. “I’m sure there are other people you know we could talk to tonight.”
“Probably.” He started the growling engine and gunned it up the steep hill. “But I’m taking you home. I’ve got a date and after spending time with Tara, I need that date right now. So, Nancy Drew, I’m dumping your ass as quickly as possible so I can get laid.”
“Rude.” I crossed my arms, staring out of the windows as the city went to sleep.
“Am I making you walk? No. I’m a fucking gentleman.”
Pulling a cookie out of my pocket, I grumbled, “Yeah, yeah,” as I ate.
Seven
Let It Go…
After Dave dropped me off in search of his girlfriend, I paced the empty bar, unsure of my next step. Tara wanted to talk with me alone. Why? What did she have to say that Dave couldn’t hear? It was stupid to go out alone. I’d been attacked multiple times in the last twenty-four hours. Of course, I now had a cool copper cuff from Coco that was supposed to protect me, but it had yet to be test driven. I couldn’t take another night of pacing, wondering, and waiting. I needed to do something, even if that something was talking to a succubus. As long as I didn’t have sex with her, I was pretty sure I’d be safe. Dave seemed to trust her. And the reality was, I’d been attacked in my home last night. Nowhere was safe.
Growling, I stalked to the phone and dialed.
“Russell.”
“Oh, um sorry. I guess I dialed that wrong.” That’s what I got for angry dialing.
“Miss Quinn? Clive is in a meeting right now. May I help you?”
“No. No problem. I just—” What? Just wondering if he’d be interested in babysitting? “Nothing. Sorry to interrupt. I’ll handle it. Good night.” I hung up and grabbed my coat. The reality was that nowhere was safe, so I might as well go chat up a demon.
It was a six-mile walk back downtown. If I detoured up through Pacific Heights and the Fillmore districts, I could add a few miles and visit the Painted Ladies, the row of ornate Victorian houses near Alamo Square. With the detour, I should arrive right on time.
Grabbing a scarf and a watch cap, I locked down the bookstore and bar again and headed out. Pulling the cap low over my ears and winding the scarf around my neck before stuffing the ends in my coat, I jogged up the steps at Land’s End and mentally mapped my route. Would it be better to keep to green areas and back streets or busier, well-lit roads? It was an almost straight shot down California Street, but I decided to meander and kill time instead.
The wooded park was dark but no problem for a woman with a wolf’s night vision. Animals scurried away from silent footfalls as I stuffed my freezing hands into my coat pockets. Wind off the ocean tore at my clothes and chilled me to the bone. Thinking longingly of my warm bed, I walked past the Legion of Honor, lit up and casting a gloriously columned mirror image in the reflecting pool before it.
When I emerged from the park, through a golf course, I wended my way through the palatial homes in Sea Cliff. Only in San Francisco were multi-million-dollar mansions snugged up against their neighbors. San Francisco was, comparatively, a small town and land was at a premium.
Streetlamps blazed yellow in the quiet dark. I decided to stick to the deserted streets rather than travel through the Presidio. Houses were buttoned up for the night, and yet I felt a prickle of awareness. Moving the scarf over my mouth to heat my face, I turned casually, as though checking the road before I crossed. Nothing. It may have been someone looking out their window, but just in case, I crossed the street and turned at the corner.
Zigzagging my way through the Lake Street area, the feeling of being watched waned. The neighborhoods changed, houses shrank, apartment buildings crowded out single-family homes, and homeless people began to appear in doorways. If I was freezing, I could only imagine how desperate it was for those who had no warm bed waiting for them at home.
As I began to cross over an eerily quiet Geary Boulevard, a pile of blankets in a doorway stirred, a balding head emerging and tracking my movements. I almost kept going but couldn’t. Backtracking, I pulled the knit cap off my head and slid it snugly over his. Before he could comment, I headed back toward the deserted four-lane street. Jogging across, ignoring the lights, I pulled my scarf up around my head before I lost heat.
San Francisco was a city filled with steep hills. About the time I crested one hill, crossed the flat intersection, and headed up another, I realized that the itch I had felt between my shoulder blades was back.
Touching the cuff Coco had given me, I assured myself that my mind was safe. Looking for menace in the deep shadows between buildings, I stepped up my pace, unable to shake the feeling I was being followed.
A light went on in a window to my right, helping me feel not quite so alone. When I passed a park, I saw someone sleeping on a bench. Deciding to cut through, I drew closer to the figure. It appeared to be an emaciated woman huddled under a thin, threadbare blanket. Pulling the thick scarf from around my neck, I laid it over her head and shoulders, hoping to block out the cold night air.
As I neared the edge of the park, a shadow separated from the silhouette of a tree. Caught short, I stumbled to a standstill. Muscles tensed, I prepared for a fight. The shadow moved silently toward me, details becoming clear in the dark. Clive.
“Will you give your coat away next?” The exasperation in his voice helped me shake off the sudden adrenaline spike and continue walking.
“What�
�s it to you?”
“I wonder,” Clive turned as I passed him and kept pace. “Why it is I bother to keep you safe, when left to your own devices, you choose to wander the streets alone in the middle of the night?” His shoes made barely a whisper on the pavement.
“Hey, I keep myself safe, thank you very much.” One vision. He pulled me out of one vision—okay, two—and suddenly he’s my guardian angel. Vampire. Whatever.
“Yes, of course. You’re doing an excellent job.” A broad shoulder brushed against mine before he moved a few inches away. His long, black overcoat seemed to absorb the faint light. It looked soft, although I doubted he’d appreciate my petting it.
We walked silently, side by side, for almost a mile. I ignored the rich, subtle scent of his cologne. Mostly.
“Is there a destination you have in mind?” Was there anything sexier than a deep British accent?
“I have no idea where you’re going. I’m swinging by the Painted Ladies before I head downtown.” Although I felt far more at ease with him by my side, I needed him to beat it. Tara clearly wanted to talk with me alone.
“Odd. Any reason you’re sightseeing in the middle of the night?” Clive never stopped scanning our surroundings. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but his being on alert allowed me to settle.
“Yes. Don’t you have important vampire things to do? Necks to bite, women to seduce?”
He turned to me, eyes intent, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Are you offering?”
Flipping up the collar on my coat, I sped up, his soft chuckle trailing.
When I crested the next hill, Alamo Square and the Painted Ladies loomed. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the fog rolling in, blanketing the city behind me. Mist hung in the air. Gloom and weak streetlights had leeched the color from the ladies, but they were still beautiful.
“Buy a postcard.” His deep voice was barely a whisper in my ear.
“Oh. You’re still here.” Stupid sexy vampire.
“Why aren’t you tucked up in your hobbit hole, where you belong?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’d love to live in the Shire.” I’d have a big, round door, a fireplace in every room. Second breakfasts! Let’s not forget the second breakfasts. And elevenses.
“No doubt you would. Back to this evening, why are you wandering around the city alone?”
“Is it the wandering or the alone part that’s tied your knickers in a twist?” I turned to head downtown, Clive settling at my side again.
“My knickers are twist-free. Thank you for your concern. I’m trying to understand, though, why I have multiple people trying to keep one bookish wolf safe when she has no interest in self-preservation.” His coat brushed the back of my hand. It was every bit as soft as it looked.
“What are you talking about, multiple—wait. Is that why I haven’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched?” Shoving my hands back into my pockets, I stopped and stared at him. “I’m nobody. I don’t understand why you care.”
His gaze took a leisurely stroll down my body before he shook his head. “That makes two of us.” He started walking again. “Come on. Keep up.”
“You don’t even know where I’m going.” Tucking my head down, I breathed into the upturned collar of my coat, trying to stave off the chill. Of course, Clive’s nearness was helping, too. Good Lord, that man was potent.
“I’ll figure it out.” After a few steps, he guessed, “Strip club?”
“I moonlight.” Snickering, I started jogging in place, knees high, trying to warm up. Jeez, it wasn’t that cold. I didn’t know what my problem was.
“Should have known.” He watched me a moment. “Is there a reason you’re doing that?”
“Yes. Yes, there is.”
A cat sauntered out from behind a car, saw us, hissed, and streaked away in the opposite direction.
“That was all about you. I’ve passed lots of cats tonight. None of them hissed at me.”
“Perhaps you weren’t upwind before.” He turned his head to study me.
“Quit it. That’s creepy. Look ahead when you walk, like a normal person.” His gaze was unnerving, not that I’d tell him that.
“I have excellent peripheral vision. Where are you going?”
When I tugged my collar up straight again to block the wind, he caught my hand, holding it between his two.
“You’re freezing. It’s chilly tonight, but not this cold.” Tilting his head, he watched me. “You’re trying to keep your teeth from chattering. I can see it.” He stopped and as he was still holding my hand, I was forced to stop, as well.
“I’m fine.” He was right, though. I was freezing.
“This means nothing.” He stepped closer, enfolding me in his big, warm coat. “Where are you going?”
“Docks. I have a very lucrative smuggling career. I’d appreciate it if you’d back off. I’ve got cargo containers to unload.”
He held me close. Seduced by the heat, I gave in, tucking myself up against him, my icy fists at his chest, my forehead against his neck.
“Don’t get any funny ideas. I’m just using you for your body temp.” Inhaling his scent, sinking into the comparative heat, I shivered uncontrollably.
“I run a quite few degrees below living but have at it. This isn’t a vision, so what is it?” He adjusted, pulling me closer so none of me was outside the protection of his overcoat.
“Don’t know. Coco gave me a bracelet. She said it would keep my mind safe from attack. I guess it doesn’t work as well on my body.”
“I was surprised by her call. I didn’t realize you and Coco were acquainted.”
“Met today,” I said through chattering teeth. Every icy breath I took felt like inhaling glass. My fingers had gone numb.
“Perhaps my blood again—”
“Nope.” I shook my head against his neck, rubbing my frozen nose against his collar. “I’ve already got too much brewing in this body as it is.” I did not need more vampire blood mixing with the dragon, werewolf, and wicche already in here, assuming Owen and Coco were right about my mom’s lineage.
“Well, we have to do something,” he said, exasperation clear. “I don’t enjoy snuggling an ice sculpture.”
“I can suck it up.” I started to pull away, but he didn’t budge. As he was stronger and warmer, I didn’t fight too hard.
“Sam, why are you alone, wandering around the city? Are you meeting someone? If you’d been home, tucked up in bed like you’re supposed to be, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“‘Supposed to be’? There is no supposed to be.” I pushed, and his grip loosened. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not the boss of me. I can wander around anywhere I want, anytime I want. I can—”
He put his hand over my mouth. “Shh. I’m thinking.”
Narrowing my eyes, I crushed his foot under my boot. He didn’t even flinch. When I tried to knee him, he spun me before I was able to graze his ‘nads, my back pressed to his chest, still trapped inside his coat. Sneaky and fast. I had to respect that.
A dark, expensive-looking car slid up beside us and stopped.
“Are you kidnapping me?” My outrage at the thought was muted by my desire to keep warm in his coat.
“Exact opposite, actually. I’m trying to get rid of you.”
“Nice.” I rolled my eyes as the driver got out and walked around the car, opening the rear passenger door.
“Heat on high in the back.” Clive shoved me in the car, pushing my frozen body over to make room for himself.
The driver resumed his seat behind the wheel, raising the dark glass divider between the front and back seats. When the heat kicked on, I almost cried. Eyes closed, I leaned forward and put my face up against the vents. My eyeballs were turning into novelty ice cubes. The pain was excruciating. It was hard to think. Everything hurt.
I heard a curse next to me and then I was in Clive’s lap, his hot mouth fused to mine. I had a moment to wonder if I was ha
llucinating before I tasted blood in my mouth. That and Clive’s tongue. I assumed it was Clive’s, but as my eyelids were frozen shut, I couldn’t exactly check.
“Come on, Sam. Swallow.”
So many dirty jokes came to mind. Unfortunately, my larynx was frozen solid. And then he was kissing me again, and blood filled my mouth. I tried to swallow but couldn’t get my throat to cooperate. I felt a quick, sharp nick on the top of my tongue and then the great thaw began. I was able to swallow, breathe, blink.
Almost immediately, I tapped Clive’s shoulder to let him know he could stop. Almost. I think I might have tipped my cards when I started kissing him back. A moment later, I found myself on the other side of the backseat, Clive studying me, assessing.
“Are you all right now?”
I cleared my throat. “Mostly. Um, thanks for that.”
Leaning back, he shook his head. “You’re welcome.” In a rare show of emotion, Clive dragged a hand through his hair. “Now, cut the shit. Why are you wandering the streets?”
It seemed churlish not to answer as he’d just saved my life. Again. “I was on my way to meet Tara downtown.”
“Tara?” He paused, thoughtful. “Succubus Tara?” Confusion clear, he opened his mouth to ask something more when his driver spoke to him through the intercom.
“Shall I drive, Liege?”
“Yes. Tonga Room.” Clive turned, facing me. “Why in the world were you meeting Tara in the middle of the night?”
“Well,” I hesitated. “You see, when a woman really likes another woman, sometimes—”
“Did I not tell you to cut the shit?” His growly, angry voice should not have been so sexy, but I gotta say, it totally was.
“Fine. Fine. Dave took me to meet with Tara tonight. To see if it was a demon who was screwing with me. Before we left, she slipped me a note telling me to meet her at two.” I checked my watch. “Which is in seven minutes. Good. I hate keeping demons waiting.”
“Why didn’t you ask Dave to go back with you?”
“Jeez, she didn’t give us any info when we went together. She slipped me the note so he wouldn’t see it. I figured I had a better chance of learning something on my own.”