by Hayden, Sean
"Shit, that reminds me. Could you step outside and call Marcel? I have a feeling Greer might actually call him to congratulate him on his offspring."
Thompson laughed at me. "I almost choked on my tongue when you told him that. Good thinking," he said and pulled out his cell. "I'll be back in a minute, go watch the governor."
I nodded and returned to my seat at Greer's side. He gave me an inquisitive look I ignored and glanced down at the table in front of me. A crystal goblet with an ample amount of blood sat where my plate used to be. Greer followed my gaze.
"A little snack, I thought you might be hungry." He raised his glass. "It could be a little warmer, but it's not bad."
I raised the glass to my lips and smelled it tentatively. Shit, pure human. "Thank you, sir, but I never drink while I'm at work." I looked at his face and he gave me a curious look.
"How old are you, Ashlyn?"
"How long have I been a vampire, sir?" I wanted clarification before I answered.
"Either, I'm pretty good at math and judging peoples ages," he said with his customary smile.
"How old do you think I am, Governor?" This should be interesting.
He touched the skin on the back of my hand in an intimate gesture. I thought he might be hitting on me until he closed his eyes and I felt his power pour through his fingertips. He gasped, drew his hand back from mine, and stared at it like I gave him a shock. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, when I tried to get a feel for your age something burned me, and I don't mean my hand. Something burned me," he said and looked a little afraid.
"Well that's weird, nothing like that's happened before," I gave a half-truth. If I could count how many times weird things happened around me I'd spend a lot of my time counting.
The rest of the governor's dinner passed quite uneventfully. The guests ate, danced, and schmoozed with the governor for four hours. Thankfully after the little "hand" incident Greer dropped his questions about my age and everything else Ashlyn related. I don't truly believe he feared me, but he seemed more than a little wary of me. More like he regarded me as a puzzle to be solved later. I imagine when one reaches the ripe old age of very, very old you learn to be patient.
As the last guests left, Thompson breathed a sigh of relief. I looked at him quizzically and he just shook his head. I knew a headshake from Thompson meant "later." Greer left the final details of the dinner party to his aides and made his way back over to me.
"Are you ready, sir?"
"Yes, Ashlyn. I'm more than ready."
Thompson left to procure the limo. Before we'd even left for the gala, Thompson planned to have the limo waiting out front for the governor to minimize his public exposure time. I knew he also wanted to check for incendiary devices. In the scope of bomb detection, it usually went police dogs, electronic sniffing devices, and then wereanimals. For some reason their sense of smell rivaled even their full-blooded cousins. Sometimes my nose even rivaled Thompson's, but since I had never smelled a bomb, I wouldn't know what to smell for.
The governor and I waited in the ballroom for a cell call from my partner to let us know it was safe. Thankfully, we didn't have long to wait. I nodded to Greer and led him back through the hotel. I didn't pause as the doors slid open, merely slipped between them and looked around. Not seeing anything, I waved the governor through as the flashes from the reporters illuminated the walkway. Those flashes saved Greer's life.
Very few things can kill a vampire. Fire is one, but it's often messy and causes too much collateral damage, just like the car bomb that failed to dispatch the governor the first time. You can also cut off the vampire's head and remove their heart, but to do so you have to get close enough to do it. Security surrounding the target usually made that option pretty difficult. The only other way is silver through the heart. Every subspecies of vampire is the same, but master vampires are a little more resilient. Often a bullet won't work. They travel too fast, and even though the bullet pierces the heart the silver exposure isn't long enough to cauterize the wound. The FBI and even local SWAT teams adopted guns that fired silver "stakes" using compressed air. They were incredibly accurate and the chances of the stake going completely through the vampire and striking someone else were slim to none. The very first time I encountered an FBI agent, I'd been in the clutches of Cicero, the master of Chicago. The FBI had burst in, shot first, and asked questions later. I saw those weapons used up close and personal and even though silver didn't bother me in the least, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of the shot.
Silver is highly reflective, and as I stood waiting for the governor I saw the flashes of the cameras reflect off a tiny little silver missile traveling through the air straight at the governor. When in fights, my perceptions often speed up, giving the things surrounding me a "slow motion" quality. The flash of the cameras slowed, Greer appeared to stop moving, and even the sounds around me slowed. I knew I wouldn't be able to get to Greer in time to move him from the path of the missile so I did the only thing I could; I jumped in front of him. I tried to pluck it from mid air with my hand, but I couldn't get to it in time. I braced myself for the impact hoping it would miss my heart. I knew it wouldn't kill me, but the last time it happened wasn't fun. I was shot in the chest with a hollow point silver bullet and it nearly shredded my most important of organs. I woke up on the morgue table twelve hours later with my chest cavity exposed and a doctor about to finish an autopsy. Not a situation I ever wanted to find myself in again.
The stake pierced my chest right between my breasts, whew. I saw it stop as it embedded itself and waited for the pain to start. I turned my head and yelled at the governor to, "Get in the fucking car," as the reporters around us started screaming. I turned my back toward the direction the missile originated so I could dive into the limo behind the governor. I felt three more stakes slam into my back as I finally cleared the door. I pulled it closed and yelled at Thompson to go. Turning to look at Greer to make sure he was missile free, I fell face first into his lap. The governor's trousers filled my vision as I passed out.
Chapter 4
I woke up in the back of the limo lying on the floor. The governor of California held my head in his lap and he was yelling at Thompson to hurry up and get to the hospital. I gave a little groan and sat up, looking out the window and at the shocked face of one governor.
"Are we there yet?" I started giggling at Thompson. I looked down and yanked the stake from my chest and let it fall to the floor of the car with a sickening thud. My shirt was a bloody mess and the tip of one of the missiles that had hit me in the back, stuck out about an inch through it. Son of a bitch, they got me through the heart. I reached up over my shoulder and could touch the stakes protruding from my back, but I couldn't reach back far enough to grab a hold well enough to yank them out.
"Governor, would you mind?" I turned my back to him hoping he'd pull them out for me.
"What the hell are you?" He made no move to grab the stakes for me.
"Governor, please? They won't kill me, but they hurt like a mother fucker."
He sighed and gingerly grabbed the first stake. I heard a sizzling sound, but I couldn't figure out where it came from. I felt the silver missile slowly making its way back through my heart and then with a wet plop it pulled completely free. I closed my eyes as I felt my body start to heal itself. I shuddered at how much blood I would need to drink after I healed. I couldn't believe I woke up in the limo and not in a hospital bed. When I sustain grievous injuries, the healing process is usually a lot slower.
I felt Greer brace his hand against my back giving him a little more leverage to work the other two missiles out. He didn't have too much trouble with the second one, but the last one seemed to have lodged itself between my ribs. Finally, he got it out and to say I felt better would have been a major understatement.
"Thank you, sir." I lay back against the long seat running the length of the limousine.
&
nbsp; "You okay, kid?" Thompson actually looked more worried than he sounded.
"I'll live," I said back without the strength to make it very loud. I glanced over at the governor and he stared at his fingertips like they were covered in something other than my blood. "You okay, Governor?"
"I'm just waiting for the silver burns to dissipate. Would you care to tell me why you're still alive?" He shifted his gaze from his fingers to my face, scowling intently. Uh oh, the gig was up.
"I can't give you the details, Governor, but I can tell you something is different about me. I suggest you just forget about it. You did ask me not to lie to you."
I heard Thompson give a deep rumbling chortle from the front of the car. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I felt the governor slide a little closer to take a look at my wounds and when he did so, he kneeled and brought his face very close to my chest. Thompson heard me growl, preparing to strike, and slammed on the brakes.
"Ashlyn! Governor, back away from her slowly and sit as far away from her as you can. Ashlyn listen to my voice, I'm here. I'm going to come through the window. Look at my eyes, Ashlyn. Not at the governor."
I stared at him wanting to cry. I focused on his slightly orange eyes and did my best to forget about everything else. I didn't even laugh when Thompson tried to fit his massive frame through the tiny little divider separating the driver and passenger compartments. He didn't say anything other than my name, consistently reminding me of my identity and not letting me get lost in the predator. He slid past the governor and I glanced over at him, and then I smelled it.
The fear rolled off of him like a drug. Instantly, I became addicted and a deep guttural growl began in my chest and rolled through my throat. Thompson increased the frequency and pitch of the repetition of my name to a frantic pace trying to prevent what he knew was coming. It didn't work. I lunged across the limo at inhuman speed. The fear pouring off the governor doubled. Thompson barely got his arm out in time. I felt my waist hit it like a steel bar. He brought me down on my back, straddling me. It was one of those moments where time stopped. I looked up at him and grinned at his audacity for stopping me from feasting and shot my arms out open handed against his rock hard chest. He flew up into the air and dented the roof of the car before landing face down right on the spot I had been a moment ago.
I stopped a few feet from the governor and decided to slow down and enjoy closing in for the kill, letting his fear fuel the hunger to almost orgasmic heights. I stared in his eyes and saw the fear there as well, but I didn't capture his mind. If I had done that we would have gone to that peaceful place and it would have denied me what I wanted most. I wanted him to know how it felt to be prey.
A bloody wrist appeared in front of my face. I could see tear marks in the flesh, so Thompson must have opened his own vein to feed me. There's only one thing sweeter than the smell of fear and it is blood, hot, wet magnificent blood. I forgot all about Greer and his little mewling noises and gingerly reached up to grasp the arm to test if he would pull it away at the last moment. He meant to feed me because he didn't move. I slowly brought his wrist to my mouth and gave it a sensuous lick across the wound. I felt Thompson shudder behind me as his chest pressed tightly to my back.
I felt his other hand reach around and the palm rest securely on my tummy, locking me in a backward embrace, but I didn't care. All I wanted was the wrist bared open fully before me. I brought my mouth to it and felt my lips pull back as my fangs sank in with a little pop as they pierced his skin. The blood poured down my throat, into my stomach, and created a small furnace of heat deep within me that spread through my veins like wildfire. Again, I felt Thompson shudder behind me as he gave into the pleasure that always accompanied the bite. Whenever a vampire fed it was pleasurable. It's the pleasure that makes humans line up like cattle at the entrance of every vampire owned establishment in the country. I read once, the effect could be likened to the initial rush of heroin, and apparently mine wasn't any different.
Thompson began to moan and grind himself into me from behind. Ecstasy filled me as well and I fought the urge to turn around and take him into me right there on the limo floor completely ignoring the company with us. Instead, I bent over slightly, never letting go of his wrist, and pushed myself against him harder. I knew he had a wife and children, but right then, right there I didn't care, and if I had to guess, neither did he. I felt him grow hard and long in his trousers and the length of it slid up and down the crease of my buttocks. I now knew what heaven could feel like.
His other hand slid lower and cupped me from the front his middle finger working itself into my other crease. I gasped at the contact and his wrist popped from my mouth with a little wet noise. Time stopped. I felt Thompson come to behind me and I suddenly felt very, very awkward. I now knew what hell could feel like.
"Thompson," I said very calmly and very softly over my shoulder.
"Not one word kid, not one single word. This never happened," he said and slowly removed his wrist from my hand and his hand from my, um. I didn't want to even think about that one. I really wanted to take a shower.
"So, how 'bout them Dodgers, eh?" I called over my shoulder.
The belly laugh made me feel a little better about going to third base with my partner. Putting baseball out of my mind, I looked over at the governor and he simply stared at the two of us as if we'd sprouted several extra heads, each. I made a motion to go to his side to apologize, but he held up his hand.
"That's quite close enough for now, agent, if you don't mind. I need some time to process what has just happened here."
I nodded and straightened my clothes while Thompson exited the vehicle and made his way around to the front of the limo. I guess he didn't feel like squeezing through the window again. What a wimp.
He started the car and we pulled back onto the road. The governor and I didn't say anything to each other for the entire trip. The silence made me happy. The governor had more questions than before, I'm sure, and I'd officially run out of lies. That left only the truth and I wasn't ready for that, not by a long shot.
* * *
We made sure Greer made it back to the mansion in one piece and made it inside without any other incidents. I breathed a sigh of relief to leave the limo behind and be back in the familiar Suburban. What a night.
We drove in silence all the way back to the Marriot we were staying at. I hoped Thompson felt more embarrassed than I did about the whole limo episode, but I doubted it. I fought the urge to cry and hide. At least we had separate bedrooms, so my crying and hiding would go unnoticed.
"You okay, kid?" He finally broke the silence as we pulled into the hotel parking lot.
"Yeah, not so much," I answered. "Sorry about that, big guy. I could say I don't know what came over me, but we both know what did. Can we just forget the whole thing happened?"
"Forget what happened?" He even said it with a wink.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and gave him a weak smile before opening the door and stepping out into the dry California night. The silence returned as we walked side by side through the parking lot and into the deserted lobby. A quick elevator ride and a stroll down the hallway and we were in front of our suite. I slid the electronic card key into the lock and opened the door, practically running to my bedroom.
"Night, kid," he called out, but I was still too embarrassed to answer.
I didn't even turn on the light since I could see perfectly in the dark. I just shed my bloody clothes and tossed them into the plastic lined trashcan by the bed. I thought about just slipping into bed, but I wanted to wash the blood off my chest, back, and face. I'd completely forgotten about it until I looked at the mirror on the wall. Thankfully, the lobby had been deserted. Somebody probably would have called the cops.
I stepped into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and slipped right in under the stream of water. I used the little hotel shampoo to wash my hair while I let the stream soak the dried blood. I stayed under the
spray, rinsing my hair and just relaxed, forcing the memories of the day to wash away with the blood. I shut the water off, reached out and grabbed a towel on the metal rack attached to the wall, and dried the water off myself before stepping out onto the cold bathroom tile. I brushed my teeth and my wet hair, pulling it up into my usual ponytail before returning to the bedroom and more importantly, my bed.
"Greetings, child."
The voice froze me in my tracks. Without thinking I reached out to my side and flipped the tiny switch on the wall to my right. The warm yellow light from the twin sconces above my bed bathed the room in a soft glow, illuminating the figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. I hadn't heard him enter so he must have come in while I showered. I gazed at his face and let out a little gasp at his features. His black hair partially hid his face, but what I could see, he was beautiful. Piercing black eyes stared back at me and I don't think it had anything to do with my limited wardrobe either. I felt as if he judged me with his gaze alone, and I didn't like it.
"Can I help you?" I tightened the towel around me.
"Not tonight, for dawn is near, rest well this day, child, for tomorrow you have much to explain," he said and stood.
"Who are you?" I tried to control my anger.
"My apologies, my name is Antonio Strozzini. I will be at your door at sunset, please don't leave without talking to me. You and I have much to discuss."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Mr. Strozzini," I said and with a flurry of movement he left, which shocked the hell out of me, since I'd barely seen it. I ran over to the window he'd gone through and looked out, but I couldn't see anything. I really needed to start locking up after myself.
Chapter 5
I woke an hour before sunset. I wish I could say I slept well, but dreams of longhaired, imposing Italian men filled my night. I looked down at the bed and noticed my dreams had been disturbing enough for me to cut deep rivulets in the sheets and mattress with my talons. The FBI would probably be a little pissed when they got that bill. I knocked on the wall letting Thompson know I wasn't still sleeping and walked to my closet to get dressed.