by Linda Howard
He switched his attention to Chloe as she brought the two mugs of coffee to the small kitchen table. “Sugar? Cream?” she asked as she set them down.
“No, thanks.”
She added both to hers, then sat down directly across from him, and took a sip. Studying her objectively, he could see that Chloe Fallon was an attractive human. Her hair was one of her best features. It was soft, feathery, and golden, falling almost to her shoulders with oddly cut sections that framed her face and swayed when she moved. That face was very pretty, with even features, a nice mouth, and somewhat innocent brown eyes, eyes that carried an expression he couldn’t quite read. Wariness? Fear? Of him or of something else? She was definitely spooked.
Was she still shaken by Enoch’s attempt on her life? Luca had soothed her fears last night, so they shouldn’t have resurfaced. The only other explanation was that his own presence disturbed her even though she had invited him into her home. Then he caught her looking at his throat—not in the same way he would admire hers, given the chance—before she too quickly glanced away and took a sip of her coffee.
That was easy enough to read, and he almost smiled. Though it had been a long time since he’d bothered with a human, he suspected she’d be easy enough to seduce. If that’s what it took to stay close, it would hardly be a chore. In fact, it would be a downright pleasure. There was always the option of glamouring her into compliance, but where was the fun in that? Besides, anything beyond a moment’s simple glamour might damage her mind. Humans were so fragile there was always that possibility. There was no need to leave Chloe in worse shape than he’d found her.
On the other hand, his glamour hadn’t exactly worked on her the way it should have, because she still remembered the attack. It should have been completely gone from her mind; she should have remembered having a normal, uneventful night, and nothing else. He was either losing his touch, which brought up the horrifying possibility that his skills and powers were deteriorating—something unknown in the vampire world, because vampires were the opposite of humans, becoming more and more powerful as they aged instead of weaker and weaker—or she was somehow immune to glamouring. He had to find out, because the answer, no matter which answer it was, affected everything. If he was deteriorating, he needed to know. He didn’t think he was, because his powers still worked on everyone else, and he felt completely normal, but this wasn’t something he’d take on faith.
“So,” she said, looking at him again. “What’s your last name?”
“Ambrus. Luca Ambrus.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before,” she said thoughtfully. “Ambrus, that is.”
“It’s Greek.” He hadn’t been born with any surname at all, but over the centuries the name, which meant “immortal,” had become attached to him and he’d taken it as his own.
“But you aren’t from Greece, are you?” She tilted her head, studying him. “I mean, you have the olive skin, but you don’t have an accent.”
He almost laughed aloud. His accent morphed with the times, and it was automatic for him to adapt the speech of his surroundings. When he was in Scotland, for instance, he had a perfect Scots burr. “I was actually born in Greece, yes, but I’m an American citizen.” That much was true, and he had the paperwork to prove it. True, the papers were forged, but as far as the government was concerned they were legitimate, and that was all that mattered.
“How long have you been in the D.C. area? Are you renting a house or an apartment?”
“A house,” he responded, amused by her version of twenty questions. “And I’ve been in and out of D.C. for years.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I fix things.”
Chloe bit her lower lip for a moment, then released it to ask, “Cars? Air conditioners?”
He smiled. “Nothing so uncomplicated.”
“So, you’re a spook. Imagine that—a spy, in my own neighborhood.”
“No, not a spook. I’m a corporate troubleshooter.” That was the truth, as far as it went. He leaned forward a little, his movement drawing her attention as he’d known it would. He caught her gaze and held it, watched as her eyes dilated slightly. He allowed himself a split second of pleasure in her automatic response to him, then with a gentle mental push he was there, in her head, in control of her thoughts. He would try something simple, so light a touch that it wouldn’t damage her—something that couldn’t fail, if everything was working as it should. “Chloe, stand.”
She had been about to take another sip of her coffee, but at his words she placed the mug on the table before her and rose slowly to her feet. Immediately, she looked confused, as if she couldn’t remember standing, or why. “What am I doing?” she said in a bewildered tone. “Was I about to get something?”
Good. She didn’t even remember his words. So, it was possible to glamour her, and yet his most important ability was useless where she was concerned—and she remembered Enoch, which she shouldn’t have done. Fascinating. She was a complete mystery, a normal little human who in one tiny way was completely abnormal.
Abruptly her head snapped to the side, and she stood frozen as if she’d heard something. That was impossible, because his hearing was infinitely better than hers and he had heard nothing beyond her breath and the beat of her heart. But he watched her pupils contract in shock, watched the color fade from her cheeks.
“Go away,” she whispered. “You’re wrong. That’s impossible.”
“Chloe?” Luca stood, concerned, and was about to round the table to reach her when the truth came to him in an unpleasant flash. He couldn’t hear what Chloe was obviously hearing, but he could feel the flow of energy in the small kitchen, an energy that wasn’t his but was somehow connected to her, an energy that wasn’t of this world. She was a conduit, as he’d suspected, and her Warrior was trying to contact her.
Was that why she was somehow able to remember him? Was the Warrior interfering, trying to make Chloe recognize him for what he was? That made sense, but at the same time he didn’t remember this ever happening before, and over the centuries he’d had contact with the Warriors before, sometimes even fighting side by side with them. At least the possibility was an avenue he could explore.
She pulled herself away from contact with that other world, looked up at him with a quiet sort of terror in her wide, dark eyes. “I think I’m losing my mind,” she whispered.
“You’re not,” he said with certainty, but she shook her head in silent refusal of his assurance.
“I am. I’m hearing voices, and if that isn’t nutsville, I don’t know what is.” Tears gathered in her dark eyes but she blinked them back, squared her shoulders, and said, “I’m sorry, Luca, but I think you should leave.”
He didn’t want to leave. His instinct was to stay, to question her, to find out exactly how far along she was in the recognition process, but it was so early in the game that if he pushed too hard she might panic and withdraw, order him out—and if she ordered him to leave, in effect she would be rescinding her invitation into her house and he wouldn’t be able to enter again unless she specifically invited him again. He needed to play this just right.
“All right, if that’s what you want,” he said gently, to reassure her. Rounding the table, he took her hand in his, feeling the race of her pulse under his fingers. Immediately he knew he’d made a mistake; touching her, when he’d already tasted her blood, brought temptation and hunger roaring upward. For a moment he hovered on the edge of striking. The warm, sweet scent of woman rose to envelop him. He could have her. He’d have to glamour her, but the thought was there, the need was there. Both his fangs and his cock began to lengthen in response.
But where was the challenge, the fun, in that? He controlled his blood lust, retracting his fangs, and firmly clamped down on the urge to take her in his arms and sink his fangs into her neck, to drink from her as he fucked her long and hard. That time would come, but not quite yet.
He leaned down and k
issed her temple, feeling the flow of blood against his lips.
“You’re not crazy,” he reassured her again. “Sit down, and tell me what’s going on.”
Chloe looked up into that strong face and felt inexplicably reassured; he didn’t look concerned or wary, simply interested in hearing what she had to say. Her legs were shaking, so she sat. Why had she stood in the first place? It was as if she’d blacked out for a few moments, because one moment she’d been sitting there sipping her coffee and the next she’d been on her feet, with no memory of getting up or a reason for doing so. Then that damn voice had started in again, and this time it hadn’t been content with simply calling her name. No, the disjointed words that had echoed around her had said things like “not human,” and “monster,” and “danger.” For a nauseating moment nothing made sense; Luca’s face had swam in her vision, but off to the side, when he was sitting right there in front of her.
There were no monsters but the ones in her head.
So much for having a visitor in the house to keep the voices at bay. This was worse than before! The minute she’d left her chair and risen to her feet, the whisper that had been tormenting her for days had returned with a vengeance.
Inviting a man she barely knew into her house at this late hour—at any hour—wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done, but he’d actually protected her from danger, which made her inclined to trust him. How far gone was she when taking a stranger into her home was preferable to being alone? Right now, though, she was pathetically grateful that he was there, that he hadn’t immediately decided she was nuts and left at a dead run.
He got the coffeepot and poured some hot coffee into her cup, topping it up. “Tell me what’s been happening,” he said. “Maybe I can help.”
She gave a faint smile as she studied the coffee swirling in the cup. “Unless you’re a neurosurgeon as well as a troubleshooter, I don’t think so. If you can’t fix my brain …”
“You’ve been having abnormal dreams, haven’t you?” he asked calmly.
Chloe’s head jerked up, and she stared wide-eyed at him. His voice had been calm, but there was something fierce and intent in his gray eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered. “How did you know?”
“Seeing any odd kinds of light?”
Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know about the dreams and that strange shimmer? She gave a jerky nod.
He seemed to consider her answers for several moments longer than was necessary, then he dropped to his haunches in front of her, so they were practically face-to-face. He took both her hands in his. His eyes were like pale storm clouds. “I’m going to tell you something you won’t like hearing.”
“I know what you’re going to say. I’m either crazy as a loon, or I’m dying from an inoperable brain tumor.” She managed a crooked smile. “I go back and forth between the two possibilities.”
“No, that isn’t it at all. Listen to me, Chloe, with an open mind—and believe. When I’m finished, you may wish the answer was something as simple as insanity. I wasn’t going to tell you any of this, but now I think I have to.”
He leaned in closer. Despite her worries, she found herself suddenly distracted by his nearness. He had absolutely perfect skin, she noticed. Not a scar, not a nick, not a blemish. And his hair … most women would kill for hair like that, thick and heavy and falling perfectly, and also looking as though he’d simply washed it and let it dry that way. Maybe he was one of those men who spent hours in the bathroom making himself look naturally beautiful. Maybe his muscles were the result of hours spent in the gym, and the perfect face the result of a lot of money spent on skin care products, and behind that facade he was vapid and dull. Except she already knew he wasn’t, and—
And here she was, terrified and shaking, trying to figure out how the man before her managed to look so damn good. Was this another sign she was losing her mind, or was it simply an attempt to escape reality, just for a moment?
After that harsh prelude, which left her dreading what he might possibly say, Luca stopped to consider his next words for several moments that seemed way too long, long enough that she began to panic. What could be that bad?
The doorbell rang. Startled, Chloe came out of her chair like a shot, almost knocking Luca down. She did bump into him, but he recovered his balance with a swift, powerful grace that was so inherently masculine her mouth went dry. How could he move that fast? He caught her arm to steady her, standing so close her shoulder brushed his chest. He towered over her, his heat and nearness burning straight through to the core of her.
She shook herself back to earth. “Who could that be at this hour?”
“You aren’t expecting anyone?”
“Like I said—at this hour? Maybe Valerie forgot something.”
“Valerie … is she the woman with the boy hair?”
He must have been lurking outside for far longer than she’d realized, if he’d seen Valerie leave. He hadn’t just happened by when she’d bolted out into the yard, he’d already been there. Abruptly uneasy, she was suddenly glad the doorbell had rung, glad she wasn’t alone with him right now. Something was going on, something that gave her the sudden feeling that she needed to be running for her life.
She went to the front door, acutely aware of Luca following her. Though she could feel him behind her, she did not hear him at all. A man as big as he was shouldn’t be able to move so silently. She reached for the doorknob, and the voice in her head whispered, No, no, no, no … She paused, trying to ignore the words, but at the last moment she decided on basic caution and looked through the peephole.
It was Valerie standing there on the front porch, looking tired and totally out of it, as if she were seconds from falling asleep. She wasn’t alone. A tall man with long blond hair stood behind Valerie, with one arm around her in a strange sort of hug.
Chloe opened the door. Valerie’s face remained blank, but the man holding her gave a reassuring smile. “Your friend had an accident. May we come in?”
Chloe stepped back, opening the door wider. “Oh my God! Of course—”
“No,” Luca said sharply, looming behind her. “Don’t invite them in.”
“But she’s hurt—”
“He’s here to kill you.”
What? Chloe jerked back, her gaze darting between the two men. Luca’s statement made no sense at all. First the big bald guy tried to kill her, and now this blond Adonis supposedly wanted to kill her, too? She didn’t own anything of importance and she didn’t know any state secrets. What the hell?
“Ambrus,” the blond man said in a flat tone as his gaze switched to Luca. He didn’t look angry, and he didn’t deny that he was here to kill Chloe.
“Sorin,” Luca responded in the same tone.
Wait. They know each other?
“What the hell’s going on?” she demanded, outrage flaring. Dammit, if they were playing some kind of sick, twisted game with her, trying to make her think she was going crazy—
Sorin’s arm tightened around Valerie, who seemed to be completely unaware of, well, everything. “You’ve chosen the wrong side.”
“Have I?” Luca moved in front of Chloe, subtly and slowly easing her away from the door frame.
She didn’t want to be eased away. She shoved back, resisting his efforts. Regardless of what these two men were doing, there was something wrong with Valerie. Had she really been in an accident? There was no blood, no bruises, but she was obviously dazed.
“What happened to her?” she demanded, glaring at this Sorin guy, and with a shock she realized that he was the man who’d spooked her a couple of nights ago. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses at the moment, but yeah, he was the same man.
“She needs help,” Sorin replied. “Let me bring her in.”
“No,” Luca said.
“You’re making a mistake,” Sorin said, annoyed, his attention snapping back to Luca. “Everything is changing, and fast. We’ll be who we are for the entire world to see. Humans will
be serving us, the way it should be. No more hiding, no more pretending.”
“Do you think they’ll roll over and let you win?” Luca asked.
“They might as well.”
One word stuck in Chloe’s head, as the men continued to talk. Humans? What the hell were these two if they weren’t human?
Sorin nodded his head in Chloe’s direction. “You know what she is, you’ve obviously figured out that much. She’s a fly in the ointment is all. What’s coming will happen more smoothly without her interference, but it’ll happen anyway, so there’s no point in protecting her now. Besides, if she knows too much, the Council will insist that you get rid of her, or at the very least have her memory wiped clean. I could easily strip her brain of every useful function. You’re just prolonging the inevitable.”
“Indulge me,” Luca said with a smile that wasn’t a smile at all.
Sorin smiled, too, and Chloe fell back with a gasp. Sharp fangs appeared, transforming that smile into one of horror. He moved so fast she didn’t really register the movement, lowering his mouth to Valerie’s throat and biting down, sinking his fangs deep into her neck.
Valerie gasped, her body arching in his grip, but she didn’t fight against the attack. Two small rivulets of blood ran down her throat. With a raw cry Chloe launched herself forward, but Luca’s arm shot out and barred the way. “No,” he said, his expression calm.
Chloe was anything but calm. “He’ll kill her!” she shrieked, shoving at him, trying to move him aside. It was like trying to move a rock. Behind her, that … that monster was, oh God, actually sucking at Valerie’s neck as if he was drinking her blood. Desperately Chloe tried to duck under Luca’s arm, only to have him grip her around the waist and haul her tightly against him, preventing her from moving.
“Probably,” he said, sounding completely unconcerned. “But if you leave this house, he’ll definitely kill you. You’re safe as long as you stay inside.”