“Learn this,” whispered Madeline. “I will not be defied.”
Shel sobbed while he drew Isabel’s life force into himself, his tears flowing as freely as her blood.
When it was finished, he held Isabel’s body for a long time. She had defied Madeline to lessen his curse, and he had killed her for it. No, Shel thought, Madeline had killed Isabel. She planned this. She wanted defiance so she could punish it.
It came to him that he was alone in a lady’s boudoir at midnight with three corpses and the stench of death. Or was that the smell of his own ruined honor?
With a moan of despair, Shel gently lowered Isabel to the floor. Light winked off the locket he had given her. Shel touched it, careful not to look at the damage he had done. Somewhere inside Shel knew he’d had no control over his actions. That didn’t make it any easier to bear. Revulsion and guilt swept through Shel. He hated Madeline. He would never forgive her for cursing him to an eternity of this or for this night of horror. Shel knew he would never love again, but most of all Shel knew he would never forgive himself.
Chapter One: Mambo #5
Sheldon Jefferson lay back against the pillows. Ava had put on a sheer red feather trimmed baby doll nighty. Could she look any sluttier? Shel sighed. He missed corsets. And petticoats. She walked toward him with what she called her “strut.” Ava was a mistake. A big one. Her husband was a Helsing and they had very little sense of humor where it concerned Vampires. Still, the danger did lend a little spice to things. He smiled. It was time to disappear.
“I have made only two hundred dollars today. It is not enough.”
“Sergei cut off your allowance again?” He gave her an amused look. Ava ran a permanent sale from her garage in her quest for material wealth.
“He does not understand. I have needs.” She pouted.
“Like what?” Shel waited. Ava expected him to reach for her. He didn’t.
“I want you to kill my husband.” She climbed onto the bed, trying to move over him. Shel caught her arms, guiding her to lie beside him. No woman ever put him in a vulnerable position. Not in well over two centuries.
Yes, a huge mistake. Definitely time to leave. “Now why would I want to do that?” He pushed Ava down and straddled her. He let the need rise up inside.
“I’ll marry you,” she said.
“What for?” He forced one knee between her legs, pushing them apart.
“We could be together all the time.” She tried to arch herself toward him.
“I don’t think so.” That’s a horrific thought. Shel caught her hands and pinned them over her head. He leaned closer and touched his teeth to her neck. Ava arched toward him. He pulled away, smiling at her frustrated moan.
“He is a pig. Kill him,” she whined.
Shel gave her a nip and grinned at her gasp. She glared at him. “No,” he said.
“Yes!” Ava tried to pout again. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Shel rested his full weight on her.
“Why?” Shel asked, getting ready to bite.
“You love me.” Ava clenched her hands and gasped again as Shel pricked the skin over her jugular vein.
“No.” He began to move in slow strokes.
“Yes!” She tried to urge him faster.
“But I don’t love you.”
“Pig!”
“Shut up,” Shel sank his fangs into her. The need pushed away any other thought. Ava’s warm blood was the only thing that mattered. Well, that and getting one over on Sergei Romanov. Damn Helsing. Ava wailed as her orgasm hit her. He took enough to dull the edge and quiet the hunger. She went limp beneath him. Shel licked the tiny puncture wounds, sealing them with his saliva.
Chapter Two: Blue Moon
Lucy Adams stopped at the end of the dock. There should be a charter company somewhere around. She squinted in the glare. A small sign hanging from the eaves of a scruffy building a few yards away read Bait and Switch Charters. Just like the Russian woman said. A man sat on the rail of the beach shack’s tiny porch. Overdressed in his faded, ripped jeans and open white cotton shirt, he seemed more sexual than all the scantily clad beach-goers combined.
She caught herself licking her lips. To cover it Lucy opened her mouth to ask about the charter boat excursions advertised on the old chalkboard. Before she could say a word, the man slowly turned his attention from the activity down the docks and focused on her. His sightless stare his sunglasses gave him made her stomach flutter and her breath catch. She would have paid money just to see the eyes behind those dark sunglasses. This man had an air of danger about him, but she could not imagine why she perceived him that way.
* * * *
Shel saw the woman headed his way long before she saw him. He’d seen her before at Ava’s house. He remembered the tacky tourist bag she carried and the haunted look about her eyes. A gust of wind caught the skirt of her dress. Her long legs looked strong. With a faint shiver, he sniffed the air. She smelled of brown sugar, vanilla, and the tang of pink grapefruit. His mouth watered. Shel did not often take a blonde-haired woman. They reminded him too much of his past. This one had an air about her though, and he was hungry. He pushed his memories out of his thoughts with the ease of long practice.
* * * *
Lucy looked back at the man for a long moment. Why not? Wasn’t that the whole point of a vacation? To have a little adventure and forget my grief? She pushed away the images that thought conjured up. Besides, the woman was right, this man is eye candy. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Lucy Adams. Are you free?”
He swung one long jeans-clad leg over the railing and slowly stood. He looked at her for a long moment. Then the corner of his perfect Cupid’s bow lips curved upward in a faint smile. “We can discuss it inside. There’s a chair. It’s cooler, too,” he said as he opened the door and held it. He inclined his head toward the dark interior.
Lucy took a deep breath, walking up the two rickety steps and into the shop. As she passed him the warm scent of sandalwood and male musk brushed against her like a caress. Her knees went weak. The sound of him firmly pulling the door shut made her toes tingle.
* * * *
Shel took a deep breath as Lucy passed. He exhaled softly, then shut the door before he hurried around Lucy to pull out the plastic chair he kept for clients. There was something very familiar about her. His stomach fluttered like an inexperienced schoolboy’s.
She sat. The cotton fabric of the dress molded itself around her hips and Shel nearly lost it. For an instant, he was back in New Orleans and the past. A tiny thrill of fear ran through Shel. He shook it off. “Would you like something to drink?” I’d like to drink you.
“Thank you, a diet soda would be nice.” Lucy’s eyes met his. Shel went liquid inside. Isabel looked out of those green eyes at him.
“I’ll be right back.” He stepped into the back room where he kept the charter supplies. He took a drink out and headed back to the woman. Shel caught a glimpse of his reflection in the oven door as he opened the refrigerator. Rolling his eyes at himself, Shel carried the drinks back into the front room. She’s not Isabel, you idiot.
Her fingers brushed his as she took the drink. The shockwave rocked Shel all the way to his toes. Their gaze locked. He fell into the warm green depths of her eyes. Her lips parted in a soft gasp. Shel found himself moving closer, leaning in to kiss her.
The phone behind the counter rang. Shel cursed silently. He never should have given Alex Bell the idea for the damn thing. “Hold that thought,” Shel said as he went around to answer the call.
* * * *
Lucy stood up. She pressed a hand to her face, feeling the heat of her blush. What just happened? Her entire body tingled. To cover her confusion Lucy wandered around the shop pretending to be interested in the fishing poles and tackle. She bypassed the bait cooler in favor of the only two things hanging on the walls. The man’s voice was a soft black velvet murmur in the background. The sound made her dizzy but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensati
on. Lucy focused on Miss February with her sculpted silicone enhanced nude body and the business license made out to the Bait and Switch Charter Boat Company. She read the name, Sheldon J. Jefferson, owner.
Shel hung up and unplugged the phone line. He watched Lucy wander around the shop for a moment. The way she pulled at him was almost painful. She grimaced at the bait. He chuckled to himself softly, and then cringed when Lucy stopped in front of the porn calendar. He headed toward the door. Shel turned the open sign over so that the closed side faced the parking lot. Maybe he could convince Lucy to spend the evening on the boat. She probably tasted wonderful.
* * * *
“Sheldon?” Lucy raised her eyebrows, looking from the license to the man who was snapping the bolt home on the door beside of her. A small shiver of alarm settled in her stomach.
“Blame my parents.” He smiled. She couldn’t look away. Shel tilted his head slightly. His eyes began to drift shut as he leaned closer. Lucy fought down the urge to giggle. She was not ready for this. This stranger was going to kiss her. And I’m going to let him.
Closing her eyes, Lucy gave in, powerless to stop it. The window beside her shattered. The popping that followed made her jump. She turned toward the broken window. “What…”
Shel grabbed Lucy’s arm, dragging her away from the window. “Someone is shooting at us,” he said. Their eyes met again.
The rattling of the locked front door snapped Shel out of his trance. Lucy was still dazed. “Come on.” He pulled her along, through the back room and out the back door. Behind them, someone kicked in the front door. Shel pulled her behind a nearby palm tree and carefully peeked around.
“Shit. We need to get to the boat.”
“But I can’t,” Lucy squeaked.
Shel gave her an impatient glance. Another spray of bullets kicked up the dirt around the tree. “Yes you can, sweetheart.” He circled Lucy’s waist with his arm forcing her along with him. They ran.
She hesitated when she saw the small boat he headed for. Dammit, we don’t have time for this. “Jump!” Shel gave her a running shove and practically threw Lucy across the gap into the boat before he followed her.
He landed next to Lucy and started the outboard motor.
“Were they trying to kill me? Or you?” Shel tried to think of who could be after him as he steered around the other boats.
Lucy remained silent. Something in her eyes told him she thought the bullets were for her.
Interesting. He let it drop for the moment.
Lucy sat watching him with huge, frightened eyes. Shel tied the little motorboat to the mooring at the back of the old yacht he called home. Without a word, Shel helped her on board. He followed and caught a glimpse of her face. Lucy’s expression, a combination of interest, excitement, and fear, knocked the breath right out of him. Dammit, she could be Isabel’s twin.
To cover his confusion Shel turned Lucy toward the door that led to the main cabin of the yacht. “The salon. We need to talk.” motioned her into the small, comfortable room.
Lucy walked into the cozy little living room.
“Sit,” he said. She did, staring up at him with an expression of guilt. Shel glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. If he kept them crossed just maybe he wouldn’t strangle her. “Now, let’s start with who wants to kill you.” Lucy looked pale and seasick.
Lucy looked at him wide-eyed. She swallowed hard and looked away. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Shel repeated, with a trace of disbelief in his voice. “Is there a reason someone would want to kill you?”
“Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. At least not…” She refused to look at him.
“Do go on,” Shel said with deep sarcasm. “I’m enthralled.”
“Everything was fine until I bought some things from a nice lady at a garage sale.”
Shel shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t believe in coincidence. “And this is why someone wants to kill you? What the hell did you buy?”
“Just some little trinkets from Russia,” Lucy said quietly. She looked directly at him. Shel’s breath caught. “I think they want the doll.”
“Who are they and why do you think they want this doll?” Shel asked, knowing he was going to have to pull the information out of her in bits and pieces. With a frown, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He should just bite her. He’d know everything then. But he couldn’t, not until he figured out why he kept seeing Isabel in her.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” Lucy answered in a whisper.
Shel pinched the bridge of his nose, mentally counting to 10. “I won’t think you’re crazy. Why do they, whoever they are, want this doll?”
“The Werewolves. I think it holds some sort of magic amulet or something. I think it’s something the Werewolves here want.” Lucy said it as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.
Everything stopped. Even his heart. Shel stared at her for several seconds too long. Lucy blushed. “I knew it. You think I’m crazy.” She sighed heavily and lowered her eyes to stare at the floor.
Shel shook his head. “And they would be the Werewolves after you.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“I’m not laughing. Tell me again how you got mixed up in this?” It can’t be this easy.
“I went to a garage sale. I thought it would be fun.” She began telling him one more time about buying the curious old matryoshka doll and chatting with the woman selling it. “So I asked about charters…”
“And she gave you my name.” Shel grimaced.
Lucy nodded.
“Shit. I…” Shel trailed off as the satellite phone beeped with an incoming call. He grabbed the phone. “Yeah?”
“Sheldon Jefferson?” asked a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone.
“Yes?” Shel asked, recognizing the voice despite the distortion. Sergei must have leaned on Ava to get his phone number.
“You have something that belongs to me. I want it back.”
Shel stiffened, instantly on alert. “Oh really? And what might that be?”
“I think you know,” Sergei said in a deceptively soft voice.
“Enlighten me anyway, comrade.” Shel looked at Lucy. This was absolutely insane.
“Insults will get you nothing. But I will be generous and offer you one hundred thousand US dollars for the return of my property.”
“Pricey, comrade, makes me wonder what this property is.”
“A memento you understand, sentimental. I am very attached to it.”
“Oh, of course,” Shel said. “I’m even more curious now.”
“If it should be damaged, I will kill you.” Sergei dropped all pretense of politeness.
Shel drew a deep drag from his cigarette, “You can try,” he said, amused.
“When I find you, you are a dead man, Jefferson.”
“Or I could drink your blood,” Shel said in a cheerful voice. He smiled at Lucy’s wide-eyed stare and hung up the phone, tossing it into the little bin beside the wheel. “You’ve probably guessed that was our friend Sergei. The husband of your nice Russian lady, Ava.”
“How did… You know him?” Lucy looked a little pale.
“I know, correction, knew his wife Ava. We were on, um, intimate terms. I imagine Ava’s husband tortured my phone number out of her before he killed her.” Shel smiled at Lucy’s look of horror. “You didn’t think this was a game did you, sugar?”
“She’s dead?” Lucy sounded as if she’d lost a bit more of her innocence than she’d planned. Her green eyes held a haunted expression of old grief renewed. That puzzled him.
Shel regretted his flippant attitude, sometimes he forgot not everyone held the same casual attitude toward life his kind did. The troubled expression on Lucy’s face gave him a sharp twinge of guilt. Of course she was scared, Sergei had people after her.
Before he realized it, Shel knelt in front of Lucy and took her hands. “I’m not going
to let anything happen to you.” She nodded.
“You can stay in my cabin tonight.” Shel looked Lucy over. “I probably have something you can borrow to sleep in. I’ll show you which cabin and where my extra t-shirts and things are if you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Lucy’s voice was still a pale shadow of the brightness it had been earlier.
Shel gave a mental shrug and motioned toward the end of the passage. “Tomorrow I’ll go ashore and do some checking. You’ll be safe here. I’ll bring back your things.” He left her there, giving her what privacy he could on the small boat.
Shel shut the door and silently slipped back to the salon. When he got there, he pushed the idea of her asleep in his cabin out of his mind. He didn’t want to examine the feelings that conjured up too closely. Shel went to the small couch. He’d sleep there. If he slept.
Shel reached for Lucy’s bag, a tacky straw tourist job with Miami embroidered on the side. He set it on the galley table. It tipped over and the usual stuff women carried spilled out, along with a small wallet.
He put everything back in. The wallet held something hard. Shel turned the wallet over in his hands a few times before opening it. It was simple curiosity that made him look at the contents, a desire to know something more about this woman who made him feel things he hadn’t experienced in centuries.
Shel opened the wallet. His stomach fell into his boots. A smiling Lucy looked back at him from the small photo. He felt sick. The man behind her was a tall impeccably groomed businessman. He appeared to be the sort of man that had always set Shel’s teeth on edge. She leaned into the man and hugged the laughing toddler close.
He took a sudden deep breath remembering to breathe, and pulled out the bit of paper that peeked out from behind the photo. Newspaper. Shel carefully unfolded it choosing to ignore the fact that his hands shook and he was totally numb. He read the date and the words in the obituary three times before they sank in.
Shel bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. That explains the sadness in her. His heart hurt. The sight of the child brought back painful memories. Shel didn’t need to look at the objects but he did anyway dropping the two gold rings into his hand. After a long moment Shel slipped the rings back in their place and quietly put the wallet back in the bag.
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