by Cat Adams
vampire. It frightens people. If they lock me up, they just might throw away the key.” The next words
came tumbling out as if of their own volition. “And when the money is gone, they’l send me to the state.”
She didn’t argue the point. She was too honest for that. In fact, she was honest enough to admit I had
reason to be afraid. “But can you be sure they won’t lock you up anyway? If you’re real y as frightening
as you claim, what’s to keep the authorities from treating you like any other monster?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that was freaking terrifying.
When I didn’t answer, she let it go, not pushing further. “It’s your choice. But I worry for you, Celia.”
“You and me both.”
She sighed. “Just think about it, okay? In the meantime, try one of these.”
I wrote the names and phone numbers she gave me on the back of an envelope. We didn’t talk too
much after that. There was an awkwardness between us that hadn’t been there before, as if the wal of
professionalism had gotten tal er and thicker after she retired. It made me a little bit sad. Stil , I thanked
her, and promised I’d set an appointment with somebody.
I kept checking my mirror as I drove around town doing my errands. I’d half-expected to find Dee and
Dum fol owing me, but there was no sign of them—or they were good enough that I couldn’t catch them.
Unsettling thought, that. Stil , I pretended it didn’t bother me and went about my business. By the time I
let myself into Bruno’s hotel suite I had accomplished quite a lot, but none of it was earth-shattering.
As I opened the door, I could faintly hear the sound of running water and Bruno’s spirited rendition of
“Copacabana.” I shook my head, smiling. Some things never change. At one point or another al six of
Mama DeLuca’s boys had been cal ed on to sing at their uncle Sal’s lounge. But only Bruno real y took
to it. He has a great voice and an honest love of songs I consider just too cheesy.
“It’s me,” I cal ed out, even though I was pretty sure he already knew. “And I brought Chinese.” I’d
cal ed in the order and used the drive-up so as not to scare anyone.
I heard the water shut off. “Bless you, woman, I’m starving.”
He was always “starving.” Only the fact that he had the metabolism of a chipmunk on speed kept him
from becoming as wide as he was tal . I’d chosen Chinese because it’s the one type of ethnic food I
don’t like. Something about the smel , I think. Or maybe the look of it just turns me off. But I could bring
him Chinese food and not get aggravated at having to suck down yet another shake.
I glanced around the room. It was nice but nothing fancy. Standard pair of double beds, one recently
used, a large window with blackout curtains, nice dark wood table and chairs, with a matching armoire
to house the television and store clothing. I pul ed a chair away from the table and sat down just as
Bruno ducked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.
I stared.
Hel , I’d dare any red-blooded heterosexual woman not to.
I mean, the man looked fine. Oh, there were a few more scars and gray hairs, but there wasn’t an
ounce of excess fat on that body. In fact, he was in better shape than when we’d been together. Broad
shoulders, narrow waist, and muscled legs al said he stil ran stairs, like he used to run bleachers in
school.
He laughed and his smile widened to the wicked grin I remembered so wel . “We don’t have time,” he
teased.
“No, we don’t,” I agreed, but I couldn’t help feeling that it was a damned shame, and I didn’t look away.
Stil , there was real regret in my voice when I said, “And we probably wouldn’t do it even if there was.”
“Don’t bet on that.” He grabbed the sack of food from my hand and reached into it to pul out an egg
rol . This, of course, left the towel held together with only a loose little half-knot. One little tug … He
gave me a wink. “I mean, I’ve only just recovered from the last time.”
I blushed. I couldn’t help it. With him standing there, like that, the memory of last time was just too
fresh.
He laughed again, a sound of pure delight. “God, I’ve missed you, Celia.” He leaned over, giving me a
gentle kiss that tasted like egg rol and him. Combined with the gentle caress of his hand down the side
of my face, it set things in motion al over my body. “I know al the reasons it didn’t work. But I do miss
you.”
“I miss you, too.” I felt a little pang of sorrow admitting it out loud. I’d loved him so much, wanted it to
work so badly. Even though we’d both tried, it just hadn’t. But even at our worst the sex had been
spectacular, and athletic enough that we’d actual y broken the frame of his bed.
He leaned forward and kissed me again, this time with more … enthusiasm. He even managed to
French-kiss me without stabbing himself on my fangs. He pul ed me to my feet and I let him. Smooth
muscles pul ed me tight against him until I groaned. Then his mouth was on my neck, nipping and
kissing until I felt tension in places I hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands moved up and down my body
with practiced ease, remembering the curves and hot spots that made my knees weak without even
trying. I couldn’t help but glide my fingers over his stil -damp back. I was sorely tempted to pul away the
towel and pul him onto the floor on top of me. To hel with the vampire or the Feds or anything else. I
missed feeling like this. Missed him.
He moaned then, apparently thinking the same thing, because his hands found their way under my
shirt and began to tingle my breasts and parts lower with that old, familiar magic. Even before, he’d
been able to use magic during sex to make things feel … better. Now it wasn’t just better, it was
amazing. My muscles began to ache with need, and the flush of early embarrassment had turned to
heat of a whole different kind.
The sensations were scary amazing, and he realized it, too. Gentle caresses turned desperate and
demanding, our hands clutching at any hint of bare skin. It happened so fast I couldn’t catch my breath
and I realized we were a ticking time bomb. If we didn’t stop soon, a lot of things were going to happen
—some we’d probably regret. But only some.
He pul ed back from the kiss, his pupils ful y dilated and his breathing harsh. A ful -out shudder
wracked his body and his hands clenched into fists, as though struggling against his better judgment to
reach for me again.
I knew the feeling.
“I’d better go get dressed.” As he stepped back, out of reach, I noticed that the towel was tenting out
from his body.
“Either that or take a cold shower,” I cal ed after his rapidly retreating form. I didn’t hear his response,
but I was wil ing to bet it was profane. Frankly, I could use a cold shower myself. My lips were stil
tingling from both residual magic and sheer body heat. Damn, he was going to be a tough man to
ignore while he was in town.
I was stil shivering when I crossed the room to sit at the table by the balcony. The late-afternoon sun
glimmered through the metal ic fabric of the ful -length sheers. I pul ed out the nearest chair, setting it in
the shadows just past the edge of the light, and settled myself in comfortably to wait. The same
magazine I’d purchased earlier was sitting on
the polished wood surface of the table. I stared at the
cover, trying to figure out exactly what was bothering me about the picture.
Obviously I felt sorry for the fiancée. I mean, if the real prince was anything at al like the fake, he was
a complete scumbag. But there she sat, at a long table in an elaborately decorated room, facing the
throng of press. She was seated between the prince and a sour-looking old man in traditional garb who
could only be her father.
Arrayed at an angle behind them on either side of a pair of national flags were what appeared to be
military-issue bodyguards, al large, al male. There was nary a smile to be seen in the group. Damn it,
what was it about this picture? I tried to bludgeon my brain into giving up the information, but it just
wouldn’t. Maybe if I read the article.
I started to flip through the magazine and had just reached the page I wanted when Bruno stepped
into the room, ful y dressed. “Okay, let’s go. Daylight’s burning.”
We got back to PharMart as the sun was sinking in the western sky.
Bruno and I had run through one of the chain roast beef restaurants. He had the French—I had the
dip. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but we’d had to do something. The sun was starting to sink toward the
western horizon and I could feel my body starting to tense. Everything was so intense. I could hear
heartbeats. Scent sweat and fear in ways that I would never have believed possible.
“Are you going to be able to do this?” Bruno’s voice was gentle, but he wouldn’t look at me,
deliberately pretending that pul ing the rental car into a parking spot in the nearly empty PharMart lot
took every bit of his attention.
“I’m fine.” I was … mostly. My skin wasn’t glowing and my vision hadn’t gone into hyperfocus. But I did
wonder if I would’ve had a repeat of last night if I hadn’t eaten. Would every sunset be a battle? Scary
thought, and one I refused to dwel on. For now, there were vampires to slay. Matteo was already there,
had done his meditation and was ready to go. We didn’t know when, or if, the bat would show up. So we
needed to be ready.
Matteo tapped on the window. If he was nervous, I couldn’t tel . His expression was serious, even
grim, but that was it.
“I cal ed the order. They confirmed I won’t get any backup from my fel ow priests.” He sighed. “They
admit the vampire is a serious threat, but our resources are stretched very thin here on the West
Coast.” He made it sound matter-of-fact, but I was shocked. It’s a big order, with a lot of resources.
They couldn’t even spare one monk? That made no sense. Unless … “It isn’t just one minor demon
anymore, is it?” I spoke softly, mainly because I was scared. I might not remember everything from
col ege, but the chapters on demonology were gruesome enough to be unforgettably etched in my
mind.
“I did not say that.” Matteo had paled and started trembling. “And don’t you say it, either. We can’t
afford for word to get out. It’d start a panic.”
“Oh, shit. Should you even be here?” Bruno’s voice was a little breathy. Evidently I wasn’t the only one
who remembered my studies.
Matteo closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m supposed to be on medical leave. I’m not al owed to help
with the other problem, so I might as wel be here.”
I hadn’t seen any injuries, but if he was hurt enough that they weren’t letting him on the demon hunt,
he was probably too hurt to be doing this. I opened my mouth to say just that, but a look from Bruno
silenced me.
Ah, male pride—or maybe just DeLuca pride. Matteo couldn’t be in on the big demon hunt, but he
needed to do something. So we were giving him the next best thing, an übervamp. If things went
according to plan, we should be able to take her down without anyone getting hurt. Of course, how
often do things actual y go according to plan?
I squashed that thought like a roach. It was as good a plan as we could make. We were wel armed.
Matteo was the weaker of the two brothers when it came to magic, so he reactivated the outer ring of
defenses. It takes less power to recharge something that’s already established than to set up
something new. Bruno would have the harder job, but I didn’t doubt he was up to it. I was just there to
play trigger woman.
If the authorities showed up they’d do the dirty work for me, but I didn’t think they’d be here. I’d done
my civic duty and cal ed in to get the kil sanctioned, but the police forces were stretched pretty damned
thin this week. Anaheim was hosting the World Series for at least two games—night games. Al hands
had to be on deck, particularly with the militant priestly orders otherwise occupied. Then again, maybe
that was why the demons and bats were moving now. They might be evil, but they weren’t stupid.
Matty walked the ring using holy water. I felt the hum of magic vibrate through the ground at my feet. It
raised the hairs al over my body, and I wondered if it was too much. If I could sense it, maybe she
would, too. If she did, she wouldn’t cross the line and get caught in our trap. I opened my mouth to say
as much, but the magic eased back down before I could get a word out.
Shaking my head, I went back to examining my weapons. Nothing had changed since I’d checked
them earlier, but I needed reassurance. I find the razor’s edge of a knife and the smel of gun oil
comforting. So sue me.
An old beater of a Chevy pul ed into the parking lot and the teenage clerk climbed out. He was in his
uniform, ready to go on shift. He noticed me and gave me a smile and wave as he hurried into the
building.
That was creepy. I mean, I knew he didn’t remember being bespel ed. But I did.
The sun sank farther in the west and the automatic lights flicked on, il uminating everything with flat
orange light that made the shadows seem al the darker. Day transitioned into night with little fanfare.
Cars drove by on the main road, radios blasting. When the light turned red, mariachi horns competed
with the thumping bass of hip-hop. I was hunched down in the seat of Matty’s rental sedan, waiting out
of sight, alternately hoping and worrying that I had been wrong, that she wouldn’t show up. I didn’t know
where Matty and Bruno were hiding.
Time dragged. My back started spasming in protest at the unnatural position I was in. The discomfort
was such that I was almost tempted to get out of the car and stretch. I might have, if I hadn’t heard the
purr of a car engine pul ing slowly into the shadowed parking lot a short distance away. I heard the soft
whump of a car door closing and the unmistakable crunch and click of high heels on rock-strewn
asphalt.
And then I felt her, like the faintest hint of a breeze across sweat-soaked skin: power, soft as a
lover’s whisper, cal ing. It was seductive, irresistible. Right then and there I thanked God that she
wasn’t cal ing me. Because I would’ve gone, gone with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I’d
have gone rushing headlong, gladly, to the arms of death. She was that good.
I heard the automatic door of the store whoosh open, heard voices cal ing out in protest. And stil I
waited. Hurry up, guys. We’re running out of time here.
Almost as if they heard my thoughts I felt the surge of energy as strong wal s of power snapped into
pla
ce.
Time to rol .
I rose and climbed from the car, pul ing my gun and flipping off the safety as I did. I wasn’t moving fast.
I didn’t want to take any chances.
She heard me coming and turned, hissing, flashing ivory fangs; the skin of her face was stretched
taut over her skul in a way that bore no resemblance to humanity. Her skin glowed, creating its own
light, so that I could see my target with utter clarity.
I heard the kid shout and run for the door of the store, her spel over him broken by her distraction.
Setting myself into a classic shooter’s stance, I very deliberately fired two shots at her chest. After the
first shot, blood and skin exploded backward to run down the thickened air that formed the wal behind
her.
The second shot missed the vampire, embedding itself in a newspaper rack. By then she was
moving, racing between the two rings of power, trailing gouts of blood as the arteries pumping into her
shattered heart hosed their contents into the night. She was searching for a weakness in either wal , an
escape, but Matteo and Bruno had done their jobs too wel .
She screamed, an unearthly sound of rage combined with raw magical power that nearly deafened
me.
In my peripheral vision I saw the boys step out of their hiding spots. Bruno aimed the gun I’d loaned
him. Matteo was armed with something just as deadly to a bat—one of the oversized water guns, fil ed
with what had to be holy water.
He opened fire, aiming not at her neck or heart but across her legs in a steady stream. It wasn’t
enough to cut off her legs, but it dropped her to the ground in screeching agony, giving me a chance to
fire again into a chest that had already almost healed.
I was nearly deaf at this point, and felt fluid running down my neck. Whether it was sweat or my ears
were bleeding I didn’t know or care. I dropped to one knee, braced my elbow against the concrete base
of a light pole, and aimed for her neck, hoping to sever her spine and cut off her head, putting an end to
this. I was concentrating hard, looking for the right opening, which is my only excuse.
I didn’t hear it coming, didn’t see the car until it slammed into Matteo, sending him flying across the