Dalton, Tymber - Brimstone Blues [Brimstone Vampires 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Tymber Dalton

  There were worse spirits to have inhabiting her skull.

  At least Rafe wasn’t totally dead.

  And, at least, she’d finally found the will and reason to keep living.

  * * * *

  A few days later, Matthias broached the subject. He wasn’t an idiot, either guessed or researched what the pendant was but didn’t mention it. “Do you have any thoughts as to what you’d like to do with his ashes?” he asked.

  Taz fixed him with her eyes, not to control but to convey the force of her message. “They are staying right where they are. He didn’t leave any instructions.”

  Matthias eventually nodded. “Okay.”

  She softened her gaze. “You don’t mind?”

  He shook his head. “If it’s what you want, it’s what we’ll do.”

  She felt bad about her dictatorial style, but she was still adjusting to the news, still coping. Technically she could ask Rafe what he wanted, but she wasn’t ready to turn him loose yet and he wasn’t volunteering any ideas.

  Not to mention she couldn’t admit any of that to Matthias.

  * * * *

  His assistant looked a little green. “Do you need me right now, sir?”

  Gerard smiled. “Don’t have the stomach for it, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly? Not really. I’m sorry.”

  Gerard nodded. “At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that. I’d rather you have the balls to be honest to my face than act like a fucking weasel. That’s one of the reasons I trust you. I know you’re not afraid to tell me the truth. Go on. Get out of here.”

  The assistant hurried out the door while Gerard looked at the head on his desk. Yet another one who’d failed him. He made examples, he didn’t screw around with pep talks. Fear was a great motivator in his line of work, and the only way to keep some of these people in line. Besides, it showed them they were working for what would eventually be the winning team.

  And what price would be paid by the losers.

  * * * *

  As Taz spent more time talking with Rafe, she pulled farther away from Matthias. It was one of those paradoxes that the longer she let the situation continue the stronger she felt, but the harder it was to confess. How did you explain something like this?

  She could only imagine how that conversation would start. Hey, Matthias, wait’ll you hear this! This is a hoot. I know you thought Rafe was dead, but he’s not, he’s stuck inside my brain!

  Yeah, right.

  Despite her promises to spend some time at home after their return from London, Taz escaped to the office every chance she got. Her drive was uninterrupted time she could spend with Rafe without fear of discovery. There was also the matter of falling into Rafe’s mental arms every chance she got, fueling her guilt and descent into an inescapable cycle. She felt bad, she went to talk to Rafe, which invariably led to other things. Leaving her feeling guilty and unable to get closer to Matthias, leading her to go talk to Rafe…

  Did she really want to get free?

  This went on for nearly two weeks after their return from London. One afternoon at work, Taz stared at her computer without seeing the words on the screen. Eventually she gave up trying. She knew Matthias was in his office, and she wanted to get out of there without him noticing, if possible.

  She packed her things.

  “When’s my funeral?” Rafe asked. He’d been quiet most of the day.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t planned it yet.” She didn’t want to do it, but didn’t want anyone else doing it, either.

  It was hard to ignore him. “It needs to happen.”

  “I know.”

  “You always say that when you don’t want to deal.”

  “I don’t want to do it right now, okay?”

  “It has to be done. Keep my ashes if you want, but have a service. People need closure.”

  Taz fought her tears. Rafe went quiet for a moment. She finished gathering her things and cautiously glanced down the hall to Matthias’ closed door. Lamplight peeked out from around the closed blinds. He would, inevitably, hear the elevator if she called it. As soon as it opened, he would emerge from his office, meaning a long, torturous ride alone with him down to the parking garage.

  But the stairwell door was quiet.

  Taz carefully opened the door and walked down one flight, where she caught the elevator. She didn’t bother calling the valet booth for her car in case they’d notify Matthias. She started the GT and backed out, making the turn to the exit. As she did she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Matthias emerge from the elevator, looking around.

  She breathed a sigh of relief and sped through the post–rush hour traffic to the Crosstown, wanting to get to I-75.

  “Why are you running from him, Taz?”

  “Because what the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Hey honey, I know you thought Rafe was dead, but I make love to him in my head. How’s that for shits and giggles?’”

  Rafael was quiet for several minutes. “Taz, let me plan the funeral.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let me do it. It’s perfect. How many people get to posthumously plan their own funeral?”

  “And how are you supposed to do that?”

  “Just let me do it.”

  She understood what he was asking. Let him take control.

  It was very tempting to sit back and let him do that. She wouldn’t have to think, plan.

  Grieve.

  “Okay.”

  * * * *

  It was an odd duality. Rafe let her work, she let him plan. They alternated control, and she brought his laptop to the office so he could access his phone and e-mail lists. Rafael was in control one afternoon after lunch when Matthias appeared in her office doorway. She didn’t have time to step forward and take control without Matthias noticing, and hoped Rafe’s mental barrier was enough to keep Matthias out.

  “How are you?” Matthias asked.

  Rafe nodded. “I’m good. I’ll let you know when the plans are ready. We’ll do it weekend after next, Saturday. I’ve got the place lined up.”

  “Easy, Rafe. You’re talking too fast. I don’t talk that fast.”

  Rafael swallowed. Now he knew how Taz felt. “I think he’d like this.”

  Matthias sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk and Taz considered putting up an extra barrier until she realized Matthias wasn’t probing him—her.

  Them.

  “Are you all right, Taz?”

  Rafael nodded. “Peachy.”

  “Too much snark, Rafe.”

  “I’m fine,” he quickly added. He still wasn’t used to a woman’s voice coming out of his mouth. Her mouth. In his mind, his voice still sounded like him.

  “Taz,” Matthias said, “I’m worried about you.”

  Rafael refused to meet Matthias’ gaze, afraid his cousin would see the truth. If Taz wanted this secret kept, he would help her. “I’m fine. Just dealing.”

  “I’m worried about us.”

  Rafael closed his eyes and resisted the urge to pull back and let Taz step forward. Matthias was too close and too powerful. There was no way he couldn’t notice the shift. “There’s nothing to worry about, Matts–thias.” Dammit! That slipped. Taz never called him anything but Matthias. Or big guy.

  Matthias’ eyes narrowed for a moment. “Taz, I’m concerned. I’ll be honest, I don’t think this is healthy for you to have this obsession.”

  “What obsession? I’m planning a funeral. I thought you’d be happy you didn’t have to do it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Matthias stood, to Rafael and Taz’s immense relief. “I do appreciate it.” He walked out and Rafael pulled back immediately and let Taz take charge. She fought her tears and rushed to close and lock her office door. She needed time to regain her composure.

  “That was too close, Rafe,” she whispered, leaning against the door.

  “I know, baby girl. I’m sorry.”

  * * * *

&nbs
p; Rafe told Taz what to pack after an hour of making her try on outfits in the mirror for him one afternoon when Matthias wasn’t home. Tight black jeans, a purple tank top he loved on her—topped by one of the shirts she’d taken from his closet.

  “It’s not very funereal, Rafe.”

  “I don’t care. I like it on you.” She would wear it. After all, it was his funeral.

  She closed her eyes, and he met her in their mental room, putting his arms around her and kissing the back of her neck, melting her.

  “You look beautiful, baby,” he whispered, kissing her again, and she pressed against him, pulling his arms tighter around her.

  In the bedroom she stood in front of the mirror, hugging herself, eyes closed.

  In her mind, Rafael turned her to face him. “You don’t know what you do to me, Taz. You’re amazing.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then why don’t you show me.”

  An hour later she was asleep on the bed, and in her mind Rafael lay next to her, propped up on one elbow, looking down at her. This was wrong, so wrong on so many levels. She was Matthias’ fiancée. He had no right to do this to her, or to Matthias. But dammit, he loved her, and she loved him, even if she couldn’t really have him. She wasn’t Catydid anymore, no. By all rights he should leave and let her have her life with Matthias.

  But he wanted her. Even though he really couldn’t have her, he wanted her.

  * * * *

  The morning they left for Atlanta for the funeral, Taz drove the GT. Correction, Rafael drove. Taz pulled back after getting into the car, letting Rafael take control. He stroked the steering wheel and smiled. “I love this car, Taz baby. You have no idea how glad I am you have it.”

  “It’s a sweet ride.”

  “You betcha, baby girl.” She’d worn sneakers for him. He didn’t care if it was her body, he couldn’t drive in heels. Could barely walk in the damn things. She—he—would change to dress flats before the funeral.

  Matthias drove his 1968 Mustang, Tobias riding shotgun. Albert and Tim brought up the rear of their little convoy. They quit trying to keep up with Taz after five minutes, not knowing it was Rafael’s lead foot on the accelerator. It took them an hour longer to reach the hotel in Atlanta. Rafael was already checked in, and a good thing, too. When asked his name, he stumbled.

  “Rafael Collins.”

  The clerk looked up, startled. Rafael tried what he hoped was an apologetic smile. “Ah, ha ha. Um. Sorry, Anastazia Proctor. I’m here for Rafael Collins’ funeral.”

  The clerk nodded and Rafael had to suffer Taz’s laughter in his head.

  “Now you know what I go through, mister.”

  “Shut up, baby girl.”

  * * * *

  Taz sat back and watched the funeral on a TV screen inside of Rafael’s room. She never imagined so many people would be there.

  “I know a lot of people,” he said. “Lived a lot of years.”

  “So many women.”

  He’d let her into his mind, but not everywhere. Fair was fair, after all. Taz understood why these women fondly remembered rakish Rafael. He’d used his vampire voodoo to make them want to break up with him. As far as they remembered, they’d all parted friends with him.

  “That’s very…weird of you.”

  “Hey, I didn’t want to hurt anyone. If I thought someone was falling in love with me, I backed off and made them want to dump me for whatever reason. I didn’t want anyone pining over me.”

  “Looks like they miss you anyway.”

  The pictures were a hit. Groups of people looking over them and lots of laughter. Taz was surprised by the video. Rafe must have done that when she was asleep. Set to several Jimmy Buffett songs, it was a montage of photos that sent most of the audience into rolling laughter, punctuated by tearful smiles.

  Matthias knew many of the guests and found himself pulled in too many directions to stay with Taz. He asked Tobias to keep an eye on her because Tim and Albert were busy with the many Clan and Tribunal members who’d arrived.

  Matthias didn’t have time to wonder how Taz knew to get in touch with all these people.

  * * * *

  Tobias shadowed her for the better part of an hour. Taz seemingly knew everyone, talking to them, introducing herself as if they had simply forgotten her. Everyone welcomed her.

  One distraught-looking young woman walked in alone. Taz homed in on her like a missile. Tobias stayed within listening range.

  “Katie!” Taz said, taking the woman’s hand.

  “Yes?”

  Taz smiled. “Taz Proctor. I’m Rafe’s cousin. I’m so glad you could make it.” The woman was obviously upset by news of Rafael’s passing, and Taz seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better. Even knowing stories about Rafe to bring smiles to their faces.

  But how could she know?

  Tobias didn’t dare risk a probe. He knew how strong she was, she would sense it immediately. He also knew beyond any doubt it wasn’t a daemon pulverem.

  How did Taz know all these things?

  Taz gave the eulogy, without notes. Far from the somber talk he expected, knowing what he did of her brief history with Rafael, it was an outrageous, side-splitting salute to the man they all knew and loved. Even her voice sounded different. Tobias risked a look at Matthias, now encased in his own grief without the responsibility of hosting this event. When Matthias finally stood to speak, Taz stood nearby. As Matthias gave his own tearful eulogy, Taz looked over the audience, apparently picking out faces from the crowd.

  Was it Taz?

  Tobias watched Tim and Albert and his brother, Patrick. They were dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. No help there. Tobias knew he should be paying attention to the service, but there was something going on.

  Taz’s eyes locked on his from her place behind Matthias.

  Then she winked.

  Rafael’s wink.

  * * * *

  People gathered outside around the cars, and laughter rolled through the crowd as stories were shared. Taz wore Rafael’s sunglasses against the late-afternoon glare, and the way she leaned on the car…

  It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. She had spent hours with photos of him. It was natural she took on poses she saw. Right? A natural chameleon, perhaps?

  Her laughter was Rafael’s. It was obvious Matthias didn’t notice. Tobias found him talking in soft tones to a group from the Eastern European Clan. His eyes and nose were red. The last thing on his mind was Taz.

  When the gathering eventually broke up, Taz started to get into Rafe’s Mustang, and Tobias opened the passenger door. He noted her startled look.

  Her?

  “I’d like to ride with you, dear,” he said.

  Taz eventually nodded. “Sure. No prob.”

  He noticed she’d changed to sneakers from the flats she’d worn all day, how she casually slung her left arm over the steering wheel, smoothly shifting into reverse with barely a look behind. Every nuance Rafael’s.

  “Are you all right, Taz?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Tired.”

  He let her drive in silence for a few minutes. “Taz, can I talk to you?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Are you feeling okay? Really.”

  He wished she wasn’t wearing the sunglasses. He’d love to see her eyes.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Nothing you’d like to talk about?”

  “Nope.”

  Tobias tried again a few minutes later. “Rafael,” he said sharply, as if addressing her.

  Her head snapped toward him. “Rafael, what?” she said after a startled pause.

  Tobias studied her face. Finally, “Rafael would have liked what you put together, I’m sure.”

  Was that a sigh of relief?

  She nodded. “Thanks, Uncle Toby.”

  He didn’t correct her, and she didn’t appear to realize what she’d said.

  But it was enough proof for him.

 
Rafael was the only one who ever called him that. The only one he ever allowed to call him that.

  And he’d never told Taz that.

  * * * *

  A few minutes later, Taz startled Rafe. “Dammit, he knows!”

  Rafael almost forgot to answer silently. “What?”

  “You called him Uncle Toby!”

  “Shit.”

  Rafe risked a glance at Tobias, who now stared out the passenger window. Dare he probe him?

  Tobias turned. “Taz, dear, that was a very interesting eulogy you gave. As if you knew him.”

  Rafe struggled for a safe answer. “I did know him.”

  “For a day. How many people you must have talked with to gather that information. Very impressive. Matthias never told me the two of you talked so much about Rafe.”

  “Do you have a point?”

  Tobias shook his head. “No. No point. Why, do you think I do?”

  “He’s baiting you, Rafe. The less you say, the better. He suspects.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’m a fucking attorney, Rafe. Trust me, I know bait when I hear it!”

  Rafael shook his head. “No, I think we’re all on edge. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Pull over at that gas station, Rafe. Go to the bathroom. NOW!”

  He pulled up to a pump. “I need to top it off. I’ll be right back.” He jumped out of the car and raced into the store, making a beeline for the men’s room.

  “Women’s!”

  “Shit.”

  He veered to the women’s restroom and locked the door behind him. Taz came forward immediately, held onto the sink with shaky hands, and looked in the mirror. Rafael’s reflection stood beside her, also looking a little ill. “Sorry, Taz. I guess I hammed it up.”

  “He’s the only one who suspects, I think. You can’t be like that around him. He’s suspicious.”

  She composed herself and returned to the car, pumped gas, and got in without looking at Tobias.