Winkler slipped silently behind me, wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed my cheek lightly while I put cookies out to cool. We would have to have a talk, Winkler and I. A werewolf-vampire relationship just seemed doomed from the start. There was also the matter of a bit of blackmail between us. And after getting poisoned by werewolf saliva and nearly dying over it, having a relationship with one of them didn't seem like a good idea. Plus, he was able to reproduce. I wasn't. He probably needed to find a nice female werewolf somewhere and settle down to have puppies. At least I hadn't seen him go off to a bar to pick up a floozy lately. That brought up a question.
"Davis," I said quietly after a while. Davis was still in the kitchen getting a bottle of water out of the fridge.
"What, Lissa?" he straightened up—he'd been bending over to get his water off a lower shelf.
"Are werewolves susceptible to diseases? I mean, I worried every time Winkler brought home a girl from a bar."
Davis grinned. "Nope. Somehow, our system burns right through that stuff. So if his protection fails, he won't get sick."
"Can werewolves have children with humans?"
Davis shut the door to the fridge and opened his bottle of water, drinking a little then replacing the cap before answering my question. "Yeah. But none of them will be werewolves," he said. "Werewolves can only be born to a mated pair of werewolves. Sad but true. That's why Winkler is very careful about that sort of thing. He doesn't want any unscheduled children."
"In my understanding, there's only one way to make vampires," I said. "And it doesn't involve reproduction in the traditional sense."
"Yeah. I know that, too."
"Winkler needs to find someone suitable," I said.
"Yeah."
My life was just chock full of cheerfulness lately. I finished cleaning up the kitchen and went out the door, heading toward the guesthouse. Gavin must have been in his bedroom, he wasn't in the living area or the kitchen. Just as well, I didn't want to see him anyway.
* * *
"Honored One, I received information tonight that indicates the project is more than 75% percent completed and security is being increased. Primary is nearly healed and will return to work soon.
G."
* * *
Whitney wanted to go shopping in Dallas on the night of the fifteenth, so Winkler asked Glen and me to accompany her and Sam. The Galleria was her mall of choice and Sam was buying as well. Apparently, a new spring wardrobe was in the offing, to go with the old spring wardrobe Whitney had purchased a few weeks before. I'd never had that kind of money in my life and wondered what it felt like to spend it with abandon. We stopped at a jewelry store the very last thing as the mall was about to close. I think we had maybe fifteen minutes.
"Winkler said to buy you something here," Whitney was smiling at me. I just stood there like a dimwitted fool for a minute.
"No." I said. "Winkler doesn't need to buy me jewelry. Nobody needs to buy me jewelry. No." I flung out an arm and left the store, walking quickly into the mall. What was he doing? I was just about to explode from the duality of our relationship. He owned me, he'd blackmailed me, and he punctuated that with hugs, kisses and an offer to buy jewelry. I wasn't having it. What was I? A favored slave or something? A lapdog kept on a leash, wearing a diamond collar and told to sit, stay and roll over?
"Lissa, what's wrong?" Whitney trotted up beside me with Sam and Glen right behind. She didn't know. Of course she didn't. Well, Winkler could keep secrets from his sister if he wanted.
"I just don't want any jewelry. I earn a salary. That's sufficient." Whitney tried to coax me at first, but the mall was closing and I was walking toward the parking garage. We made it home without mishap and I didn't talk to anyone the whole time. Glen was driving and I sat up front with him while Whitney and Sam sat in the back.
"You upset Whitney." Those were the first words out of Winkler's mouth when he barged into my bedroom without knocking. I was huddled against the headboard of the bed, my knees under my chin, my arms around my legs, trying to come to grips with my life and my position and status within that life.
"Tell her I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention." I blinked up at Winkler. He looked ready to explode.
"Lissa, why? I offer to buy something you might want and you fling it away."
Whitney wasn't the only one upset, I could tell. "Sorry, Winkler. I just wasn't in the mood."
Winkler growled. I remembered then that it was the night before the full moon and the Wolves were a little touchy. "Winkler," I tried again. "We'll talk about this soon, okay? It was just such a shock and they were already making announcements to close the mall."
Winkler stared at me for a moment and then sighed. "Trust Whitney to leave it until the last minute," he said. "We'll talk about it later." He left my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Four security guards drove Winkler, Phil, Davis, Glen, Leon, Whitney and Sam inside two SUVs the evening of the full moon. They were going to someone's ranch north of Dallas, where the run was scheduled. The human guards were instructed to drop them off and they all thought Winkler and Co. were invited to a barbeque. The SUVs and the drivers were coming back to the house until called for. Gavin was in charge of the guards while everyone else was gone and since I was a little bored and still upset over the whole jewelry fiasco, I decided to go to the roof and sit. There wasn't a good way to get up there without the guards seeing and freaking, so I turned to mist inside my bedroom, floated out of the guesthouse and up to the roof of the three-story house. The SUVs were driving through the front gate and I was about to turn back to myself when I caught movement a little way down the street.
If my blood hadn't been cool already, it would have chilled then. A semi was parked behind some of the nearby businesses, which wouldn't normally have caused any stir; trucks unloaded and loaded from there all the time. Now it was after hours, very dark, and all those businesses were closed. There were people swarming around the truck like termites and I watched in horror as they unloaded a vehicle that looked as if a tank and a hummer had a baby. That baby had a nasty-looking rocket launcher attached.
If I'd had a voice, I'd have screamed my lungs out. I didn't and the swarm was now driving their vehicle straight for Winkler's walls. The termites? They all had assault rifles. They were trotting alongside the attack vehicle, too.
Gavin, Gavin, Gavin, Gavin—if I could have expressed myself verbally, I would have been sobbing out his name. I sent it out mentally instead, as if he could hear me, somehow. Angling off the roof as mist, I swooped downward, flying toward the small army as swiftly as I could. As it was in North Dakota, I realized it would take precious minutes to change to myself—minutes I didn't have. Gavin wasn't the only one behind the walls surrounding Winkler's mansion. There were at least a dozen security guards there as well, many of whom had families who might never see their loved ones again.
I settled somewhere behind the attackers, who were making their way to the wall swiftly. I figured they intended to blast their way through the wall first and then open fire on whomever and whatever they found inside it.
Lissa? Gavin's voice dropped into my mind, a note of surprise accompanying it. Did vampires have telepathy? Could they send and receive thoughts? I didn't have time to ponder that. Gavin, they're about to blast the wall down! North side! That was the best I could do while attempting to materialize at the same time. The attackers were nearly at the wall and preparing to shoot when I became myself.
The man at the rear of the small army had his gun yanked out of his hands and the stock of it smashing against his head in less than a blink. The ones in front of him turned toward me but I was already doing the same to them. It had taken too long for me to become solid, however. The rocket launcher fired and a gaping hole was blasted in the wall with a resounding boom, sending bricks and debris flying and bouncing across Winkler's manicured lawn. The attacking termites up front were shooting now, while answering gunfire was erupting right back
at them. If I'd stopped to think about it, I would have realized that staying where I was placed me in just as much jeopardy as the termites. Bullets were flying all around me.
I was still punching and smashing as I watched the vehicle (which was armored heavily against rifle attacks), drive through the blasted opening and into Winkler's yard. Chaos erupted around me as the attackers realized that something was moving among them so quickly they couldn't put their hands on it. I grabbed one man's gun and caved his face in with the butt of it before flinging the rifle toward the man operating the rocket launcher. He stood behind a shield of some sort, preparing to fire the weapon at Winkler's house. I have no idea how hard I threw the gun but it was enough to separate the man's head from his body. The head rolled far into the yard as the body slumped over where it stood.
More gunfire erupted and I felt something sting my right shoulder, but that didn't slow me down at all. Sirens sounded nearby; the police were coming. I kicked one man in the stomach and sent him sailing. Somebody else was now climbing toward the rocket launcher. I jumped at least twenty feet, landing right behind him and tossing him far into the yard. He didn't get up. Then, just to make sure of things, I wrapped my arms around the barrel of the launcher and bent it downward. No way was it going to shoot again. The sirens were now shrieking in the alley behind us—time to get the hell out of there. I had no idea where Gavin was, whether he'd heard me or if I'd imagined his voice inside my head earlier. I leapt off the vehicle and the termites, what was left of them, were now shouting and scattering. Taking off at a run, I blazed toward the back wall as fast as I could go. No way was I going to hang around and answer questions for the police. That would be disastrous, as well as exposing my face on national news programs. Definitely didn't need that.
Climbing high into one of the trees in the neighbor's back yard, I sat there for a while, waiting for the anthill to settle down. Winkler and the others came home a little after dawn, but I'd misted into my guesthouse bedroom by that time. The police had already searched it and the perimeter was secured. I was out like a light.
* * *
Winkler wanted to grumble as he was forced to make a statement for the media the morning following the attack, although he had no desire to do so. The house was still intact but police tape was everywhere and officers, detectives and even the FBI were on the scene. Three of Winkler's security guards had been killed and he'd already released their names to the media. The authorities were still trying to sort out whom the attackers were and how they'd managed to do what they'd done. Twenty-three of those were dead, some from blows to the head. Three others who'd survived were babbling incoherently and no sense could be gotten from any of them.
Whitney and Sam were closely guarded inside the media room—Glen and Phil were seeing to that while Davis stood beside Winkler in April sunlight as he answered a few questions for reporters. "My security team performed above expectations," Winkler took the opportunity to promote his business as cameras clicked all around him and video was recorded.
"I hear that the barrel of the rocket launcher was bent," one reporter said.
"We think they ran into a portion of the wall with it, possibly bringing down some of the concrete when they did so. You can see the rubble lying all over my yard," Winkler was smiling slightly.
"How do you feel about all this?" another reporter asked.
"Lucky. Very, very lucky. That I had such well-trained personnel, who acted bravely and efficiently in the face of these terrorists."
"You consider them terrorists?"
"They caused me to feel terror. Wouldn't they you?" Winkler asked. Winkler had to deal with police and the FBI for the remainder of the day and then had to call in workmen to place a temporary patch over the hole in his wall. When he was finally alone just before sunset, he sighed and went to see about Whitney and the others. Winkler was exhausted but refused to allow anyone to see it.
"We haven't been able to check on Lissa; too many cops crawling around," Davis grumbled.
"Then come with me now," Winkler took off at a trot toward the front door, Davis following close behind.
* * *
My shoulder hurt. I noticed it was hurting before I could unglue my eyes and open them at sundown. "Lie still or I'll tie you down," Gavin was growling. He was digging in my shoulder, stabbing into it with something. My eyes popped wide open then. "Never go to sleep with a bullet inside your body, your tissue will heal around it," Gavin gritted, probing my shoulder with tweezers that looked about a foot long. Of course, they were right next to my face and they looked huge from that distance.
"Ow," I said as he stabbed into me.
"Shut up and let me do this," he grunted. "There." He pulled those things out of me, showing me the slug that had been embedded in my shoulder.
"Lovely," I muttered ungratefully, staring at the bloody piece of metal.
Gavin dumped half a bottle of peroxide into the wound next, getting me and my bed wet. That's when I discovered I was naked. "Hey," I swatted at him, trying to get him away from me. Who knows how long he'd been there, digging around? Winkler and Davis walked in right about then, so they enjoyed the show, too.
"I had to make sure you hadn't been hit anywhere else," Gavin said, getting off the bed. "You'll heal now and not have a slug inside your body forever."
"Lucky me," I mumbled, grabbing the sheet from the bed and trying to wrap myself in it.
* * *
"Honored One, she is capable of mindspeech. She sent a warning to me that lodged inside my head somehow, but my attempts to send back to her were unsuccessful. I am sorry to disappoint in that way. I am sure you have seen the news reports by now and have drawn the conclusion that she was mostly responsible for thwarting the attack for the most part. I only caught a few glimpses of her as she fought off nearly thirty attackers, but she was moving so swiftly even I could not follow her movements at times. None of the three who survived required more than a small amount of compulsion.
G."
* * *
"Charles!" Charles came trotting into Wlodek's study.
"Yes, Honored One?"
"Charles, get Susila on the phone," Wlodek was up and pacing behind his desk.
"Right away, sir."
"And Charles."
"Sir?"
"Pull out the records, all of them, on all the females, past and present, living and deceased."
"Of course, sir." Charles rushed away to do as he was bid.
* * *
"I'm sending you out of here tonight. You and Gavin. We don't need the authorities finding out the two of you didn't get questioned with the others, now do we?" Winkler was tossing clothing at me.
"Do I have time for a bath?"
"No!" Winkler and Davis exploded at the same time.
"Okay, okay, sheesh," I said, grabbing the underwear, bra, jeans and t-shirt Winkler had flung at me and running into the bathroom to get dressed. I barely had time to run a comb through my hair before he was rushing me out the door. He hadn't had any sleep at all, I knew, and it was the day after the full moon. No sense in trying to argue with him.
He and Davis practically tossed me into a security van. The vans didn't have windows on the sides and only two darkened ones in the back. Gavin sat on the middle seat with me, completely silent, his eyes hooded. I only looked at him briefly before turning away. I suppose I should have thanked him for digging the bullet out of me, but he'd started while I was still unconscious and I hadn't given him permission.
The driver had to make sure we weren't followed before driving us to the airport, and from there we were herded into the private jet, taking off in a matter of minutes. Todd was there to meet us in Corpus and dropped us off at the beach house. Gavin had the key so he let us both in. I hadn't even had time to eat that evening, so I went to the fridge, pulled out a bag of blood and took it to my bedroom.
I had a message on my cell when I remembered to turn it on—from Tony. I called him back.
"Hey, bea
utiful," he said, his voice all warm and sexy. I wasn't sure I was up to the sexy part.
"Hey, yourself," I said. "I just got back from Dallas and I'm a little pooped. What's up?"
"I just wanted to talk to you," he said. "Make sure we were still on for tomorrow night."
"We're still on unless something untoward happens."
"What might happen?"
"Well, you never know. A satellite could come hurtling in from space and crash into the house. Or a herd of wild bovines could come for dinner. You can't ever tell about these things."
"Wild bovines?"
"Maybe horses or goats, then."
"Lissa, you are truly unique. I'll see you at eight tomorrow."
"Sure thing. Bye."
I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed.
Chapter 12
Tony was waiting for me at the table we'd first shared when I made my way inside the bookstore. I was five minutes early, too. Didn't want him to have an anxiety attack. He was flipping through a magazine when I sat down, but closed it the minute I got there and gave me a beautiful smile. "So, what are we doing?" I asked. I had on the blue top and black slacks I'd worn to the basketball game, and my hair was held back with a clip.
"You look really nice," he complimented me.
"So do you. But you probably get that a lot," I said.
"Mostly from people I don't want to talk to," he agreed. "Let's go to Landry's; it's on Ocean Drive and we can see the water from our table." He stood and took my elbow.
"Are we taking yours or mine?" I asked. I'd borrowed the Cadillac again. Gavin had glared at me when I walked out the door, too. Winkler and the others had come in sometime during the day but they were resting. They hadn't had much sleep since the attack and were a little snarly as a result.
Blood Wager (Blood Destiny #1) Page 17