by K. F. Breene
Then Marie and her army had come in and gone nuts. I could’ve had some say in what direction she took, but that lady had more style in her fingernail than a ten-year subscription to Vogue. The result? I was living in small-scale luxury in a rough part of town.
I’d expected the vampires to get lost at that point. The terms of our deal had been fulfilled on both sides. Per the contract, they were supposed to leave me alone. Sure, I’d expected them to check in from time to time to make sure I wasn’t spilling the beans about their unicorn secret, or even telling the shifters—their archenemies—everything I knew about vampire habits, but that didn’t happen. Instead, they hung around. Constantly. Even if I didn’t physically see them for a couple days, there was always evidence they’d come around to check up on me.
I did not appreciate it. Not only was my privacy at stake, but people were starting to think I was a vampire’s pet.
I most definitely was not a vampire’s pet. What did people take me for, insane?
Besides, how many ways could a person say get lost? I was pretty sure I’d tried them all. It wasn’t my fault they’d taken to hovering around like ghouls.
I flicked on the lights even though I didn’t need them to see, and headed toward the fridge. Bracing myself, I opened the door and immediately squinted. The thing was like the inside of a disco ball. Bright white light assaulted me from a few different places within the well-stocked interior. Blue shone at the back, letting me know the filter was in fine working order.
Not like I would need to change it. The second it was out, it would be changed for me. If I ate all the cheese? New, expensive cheese would show up the next night. Cleaning the fridge? Done for me. Cleaning the rest of the house? Taken care of when I wasn’t home.
Yes, the vampire presence in my house was pretty obvious. I was living with an army of invisible butlers. And while that sounded super cool, and might’ve been a lifelong dream once upon a time, I also knew they were reporting my every move to their master. Darius. The most persistent, overbearing vampire I’d ever met. He treated me like we were bonded and I was fragile, even though no way were we bonded, and I certainly wasn’t fragile. He acted like he was still under orders from Vlad (elder vampire supreme) to protect and look after me, and he did it with the diligence and the attention to detail that had kept him alive through so many troubled periods throughout history.
Did I mention I’d tried to bar the door? Didn’t matter. With their “breaking and entering” magic, as I called it, they could undo any lock I tried to use, then waltz in against my wishes, rearrange everything, look through my stuff, stock my fridge, and wash, fold, and put away my undies. My undies!
Did I say overbearing? I meant suffocating.
Had I paid for the service, okay, but he was doing this after I’d expressly asked him to leave me alone. To give me some space. To stop trying to break into my magically protected closet and poke through my stuff, for criminy sakes!
“Reagan, part of protecting you is to protect you from yourself. I just want to know what it is you are hiding,” he’d said.
I’d tried to punch him, but he was danged fast. Instead, I’d said, “Fat chance,” slammed the door in his face, locked it, and pretended I didn’t hear him unlock it immediately after. Then chuckled darkly.
That vampire was tap-dancing on my last nerve.
What was nuts was that his actions were not standard operating procedure for vampires. I’d asked around. Even people who were bonded, which basically meant they shared a special link with a vampire, didn’t get this kind of attentiveness.
The only thing I could figure was that Darius was trying to put me in a gilded cage. He knew what I was, which meant he also knew I was his meal ticket to becoming the most powerful vampire in the world. He probably thought all the help and gifts would keep me happy, which would keep me put.
He didn’t know me very well.
If he made a move on me, I’d kill him. I would probably need help, because he was old as hades, and an exceptional adversary, but I had backup. Callie and Dizzy, two high-powered mages, had become my family. They also knew my past, they’d helped hide me when I was a baby, and they knew vampires were not to be trusted. The three of us could get me out of most any bind.
Hopefully. That theory had yet to be tested.
I rubbed my forehead as I stared into the fridge. It had been a long, kind of terrible, day. I took out some high-quality cheese, salami, and grapes. Whoever did the shopping got only the best, and clearly the most expensive, stuff. Not like I could taste the difference. My magic was powerful, but my palate was weak.
From the equally stocked pantry, I grabbed some fresh French bread. After I’d picked out a bottle of wine, a knock sounded on the door.
It was either the cops or Mikey wanting to know what was going on. Maybe even Mince looking to gossip.
I set the full plate onto the counter, flicked on the hall light so I didn’t seem weird, and answered the door.
My stomach flipped over and tingles spread across my skin.
Stupid, handsome vampire.
Darius stood at my door in a black button-up shirt that hugged his muscular chest and pulled taut across his broad shoulders. The vee of his upper body led down into trim hips encircled by a black leather belt, holding up formfitting jeans that probably cost as much as some people’s rent.
When dealing with normal people for days at a time, I always forgot how incredibly hot Darius was, and how incredibly powerful. He moved with a raw magnetism that entranced the eye. It was probably because I’d taken blood from him once, but his proximity made my body vibrate in worrying ways. If I didn’t keep my wits, I was liable to reach out and run my hand up that bumpy torso, or reach around and grab that perfect ass.
Great googly-moogly, I needed to stay away from this vampire. He was decadent sin in a mouth-watering wrapper.
“What’s up?” I asked, blocking the doorway.
His eyes roamed my face. “Your eyebrows have gone missing again.”
“You’ve always excelled at observation.” Just as I, apparently, excelled at losing my eyebrows.
“Yes. I heard about the aswang and, more importantly, Garret allegedly saving your life.” He paused, watching my reaction. I was sure he saw what he was looking for. That sore spot might not go away for a while. “I thought you might like some company.”
Who was he in contact with at the MLE office, I wondered?
“No. I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks, though. I know I’ve said this before, a few times, but could you please tell…whoever it is that I can do my own shopping and laundry? I’d rather not have someone in here when I’m gone.” There. That was a nice-guy approach. I hadn’t tried that one yet, maybe.
“Don’t be absurd,” he scoffed. “Only simpletons perform those duties for themselves. Clear the way. I’ll make you dinner.”
Nice-guy approach was out. I didn’t much like saying please to him anyway.
He waited for a moment, clearly thinking I would move of my own volition.
“Seriously, Darius, I’m good,” I said, staying firmly rooted in the doorway. “I’ve already pulled out some stuff for dinner.” I pushed the door closed a little more. “Thanks for checking up on me, kinda, but I’ve handled much worse. As you know.”
“Come now. Don’t be obtuse.” Darius moved faster than thought. One moment he was in the doorway, and the next I was staring at the void of my front porch.
“That’s breaking and entering,” I said lamely, shutting the door.
When I entered the kitchen, he was swapping out the wine for a more expensive bottle. The things I’d taken out had already been put away.
“Go and take a bath,” he instructed as he rolled up his sleeves, exposing toned forearms. “Relax. Take your time. Dinner will be ready when you return. Would you like a glass of wine to take in with you?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but that did sound good. It wasn’t like I’d be able to get him out of my hous
e, anyway. He’d be making dinner whether I wanted him to or not, and I’d eat it, because he was an excellent cook and I was really hungry.
“Snack?” I asked, giving in.
“Of course. I’ll bring something in.”
Chapter Six
Not long after I’d sunk into the large tub in my completely redone bathroom, Darius knocked softly on the door. Since the tub and shower were separate, I didn’t have a shower curtain to pull closed to conceal my nudity.
“Hold on,” I said, sitting up to reach for a towel. Before I could grab it, the door swung open.
Darius carried in a silver tray laden with snack foods and wine. I crossed my legs and jerked my arms over my chest.
He set the tray on the tiled ledge near my head and perched next to it, looking down at me. “You have a beautiful body, Reagan. You should allow me to appreciate it.”
“No.”
His gaze roamed my face, like it had when I’d opened the door earlier, then shifted down to my neck, where it lingered. Hunger flashed in his eyes. Last time he’d looked at me like that, I’d shot him in the leg. Pity I hadn’t thought to take my gun to the bath.
“Nope,” I said. “Not going to happen. And you’re starting to make me uncomfortable, which is the opposite reason of why you’re here.”
“I apologize.” His gaze skimmed down my nude body, the heat in his eyes burning now. “I fed just two days ago, and already I want more,” he murmured. “Of you, specifically. What is this hold you have on me, Reagan?”
“No hold. I’m a naked chick and you’re a creepy dude. Your reaction is pretty standard.”
He shook his head slowly and reached for my face. I would later ponder why I didn’t flinch.
He feathered his thumb along my jaw. “If there is one thing I know from all my years as a vampire, it’s that there is nothing standard about my reactions to you.” His thumb grazed the edge of my bottom lip, burning my flesh. His hand fell away. “I will see to your supper.”
A moment later, he was gone and my body was on fire. Literally. The bath water steamed and started to bubble, my power reacting to my desire.
The guy was too hot for his own good. That was the bottom line. All vampires became more attractive after they were turned, but he was just ridiculous.
An hour later, after I had recovered from my temporary insanity (mostly), soaked, relaxed, and put on a robe, I sauntered into the living room feeling like a whole new me. Darius was lounging on the couch, reading a book. A delicious aroma tickled my nose from the kitchen. I started to salivate.
He looked up when I came within a few feet, and held up the book. “This is garbage, but I can’t stop reading it.”
“Great.” I fell onto the couch and sighed.
“Will you be dressing for dinner?”
“I am dressed for dinner.” I plucked at my robe. “This counts.”
“Are you hungry now, or would you like to make love first?”
“Nice try, Fabio.”
He laughed and rose gracefully. “I never seem to catch you in the right mood.”
Thank God for that.
As he was moving into the kitchen, a firm rap sounded at the door. He paused and looked back at me, his expression blank.
“I’ll get it,” I said, getting up. “Since, you know, I live here.”
A raw edge came to his voice. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Would I be traipsing around in a robe if I was expecting someone?”
He didn’t comment.
I wrapped my fingers around the handle and pulled the door open a crack.
The younger detective—J.M.!—stood on my porch facing sideways and with his hands in his pockets. He’d lost the confidence and ego from earlier. In fact, he looked a little hunched over, as if bowed by uncertainty.
“The denial stage is over, huh?” I asked as I opened the door wider. I crossed my arms over my chest. “That was fast.”
Shock smacked into his expression the moment he turned my way. His gaze dipped to my robe and his jaw went slack.
I did a quick check to make sure nothing had popped out. Nope, all was right. Granted, the robe was a silky number that Marie had bought me, along with a bunch of other uncomfortable-looking clothes I had no desire to wear, but I was thoroughly dry when I put it on, and the garment left nothing exposed from my neck down to past my knee. Since I also currently lacked eyebrows and my hair, unbrushed, was pulled up into a bun, there was nothing hot about the situation other than the beholder’s imagination.
Annnnnd that just solved the riddle.
“Sean explained what my department really does?” I asked him, pushing the door a little further closed and half hiding behind it. There was no reason to give him any ideas.
“Yes. I didn’t believe you guys. It sounded crazy.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and tore his gaze away. He turned sideways again, staring vaguely into the distance. “Crazy.”
“If you weren’t born into it, how would you know?”
“You were born into it?” His gaze was imploring.
“Yes.”
He nodded and looked away again. “I saw all three bodies. I saw the pile of ash in the French Quarter. I saw a man change from a wolf into a human—”
“You did?” I shifted, bracing a hand on my hip. “How’d that come about?”
“A wolf into a human, Reagan,” he said, his eyes haunted. “What the hell?”
“Yes. It can take a second to get used to it.”
He exhaled noisily and shook his head. “The wolf-turned-human said he followed that aswang as best he could, but he wasn’t able to get his crew there in time to help. Plus, you guys were already on scene. But he wanted to extend his offer to help in the future should we need anything.”
“No, he did not!” My nails dug into the wood. “Those sneaky little bastards. Trying to move in on our setup. Well, my old job’s setup, anyway. They’re trying to get more legit as magical police in the Brink. Oh man, the captain won’t be pleased. If the shifters offer you their muscle, that’ll cut jobs from MLE. Oh no, the captain will not be pleased at all.”
“Magical police, Reagan?” J.M.’s eyes were tight.
“My bad. Look, you’ll come to grips with it eventually. I mean, you’ve gotten this far in a couple hours. That’s huge.”
“How could I not? I saw that guy change.”
“Most people would think an animal did it.”
“The rest of my department, yeah. Sean spun that tale and they ate it up.” He shook his head. “Look, Reagan, would you go to dinner with me? I’d love some insider perspective on this.”
No was on the tip of my tongue, but his gaze was imploring me to help him. To give him a hand up out of the pit he’d fallen into. I felt bad for the guy, since I was basically the reason he’d landed in this mess. If not for my impatience, Sean would’ve let him keep his sanity for a while longer.
“Sure,” I said with a sigh. “When?”
Gratitude and longing both crossed his face, and I felt a weird pang. Like maybe going out with him wouldn’t be so bad. “Whenever you want. Tomorrow night?”
A seething presence took up real estate behind me. J.M.’s eyes widened.
Ah yes. I’d forgotten about Mr. Overprotective there for a second.
I glanced behind me, confirming that Darius stood there. His face was shut down into a hard mask, and his bearing was clearly intended to display his size and power.
“Don’t mind him,” I said, turning back. “He’s like a stray cat.”
“Is this your—” J.M. gestured at Darius.
“Yes, I am her—”
“Nope,” I said. “I don’t know what he was going to say, but—”
“You are my—”
“Nope.” I cut my hand through the air to stop him again. “He’s a vampire who is cooking me dinner. Strange, but true. There is literally nothing else going on here, trust me. He will leave right after dinner.”
J.M
.’s eyes drifted to my robe.
Dang it. Timing was never on my side.
“Anyway.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it. You can text me.” I quickly inputted my digits and name and handed it back. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
With a furrowed brow, he nodded, said goodbye, and then slowly worked his way down the steps. He glanced back before he crossed the street. His car had to be the Mustang parked on the other side. This hadn’t been a business call, though I’d already guessed as much from the lost look in his eyes.
“Well, that was weird.” I closed the door.
“Reagan, that human cannot treat you how you need to be treated,” Darius said.
“Number one, it isn’t a date, it’s a counseling session to help him come to grips with magical stuff. Number two, I would ask how you think I should be treated, but you’ll just—”
“Like the priceless treasure you are.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say, but while I might be priceless, my worth to you is definitely quantifiable. You know what you’ll gain by using me, which is why I suspect you are guarding me so closely. But that human doesn’t want anything except comfort. He can’t use me, especially since I just got fired. Or am about to be fired, one or the other. He’s looking for normalcy. So am I. Save it.”
His jaw clenched.
“Truth bomb,” I muttered, leaning against the wall. Silence descended, thick and heavy. “Let me guess,” I ventured, “are you going to trash my dinner and storm out of here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re hungry.” He stepped aside graciously and put out his hand, motioning me into the kitchen. “Or would you prefer a stand on which to eat your meal in front of the TV like a modern-day barbarian?”
I tapped my chin. “Well, when you put it like that, in front of the TV sounds great.”