Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

by Sara Humphreys

  “You’re not going to tell him that he’s her bloodmate, are you?” Suzie asked quickly. “They should figure that out for themselves…I think.”

  “No, I’m just going to give him some reassurance.”

  Without another word, Shane whisked out of the apartment in a blur.

  “Am I crazy,” Doug said slowly, “or is Quesada about to give Shelton advice on his love life?”

  “You’re not crazy,” Olivia said with a chuckle. “But this coven sure as hell is.”

  * * *

  Dakota stood on top of the stone wall of The Cloisters garden and wrestled with whether or not he really should follow her. Trixie sure acted like she hated him, so how would she feel if she found him spying on her?

  Her form grew smaller in the distance as she flew through the night sky. He had to make a freaking decision soon or her trail would vanish. Hands on his hips, he swore under his breath. He hated feeling so damn confused.

  “I suspected I’d find you here.”

  Shane’s voice cut through the night and pulled Dakota from his thoughts. He didn’t flinch but kept looking in the direction where Trixie had flown off. It would be a bad move to let Quesada know that he’d actually been able to sneak up on him.

  Damn, his infatuation with this woman was makin’ him crazy and sloppy.

  “What are you talkin’ about, old man?” Dakota settled his hands on his hips and cast a glance at Shane, who now stood on the wall beside him. “And what are you doin’ out here? That party is still goin’ strong.”

  “I’ll overlook the insult about my age, given your current state.”

  “What state would that be?”

  “Let’s just say, you seem distracted lately.”

  “You sayin’ that I’m not doin’ my job?” Dakota squared his shoulders. “Because if you’ll recall, I was the one who took down those two drifter vamps last month. Humans didn’t even get a whiff of the trouble they were causin’.”

  “You misunderstand me,” Shane said with his typical calm. “I may be far older than you, Shelton, but it was not long ago that I was in your position.”

  “What are you talkin’ about?” He shifted his stance to get a better look at his partner.

  “I was new here as well. An outsider.” He folded his hands in front of him, his expression calm but serious. “I know how odd and almost unnerving it can be to be around their family unit. It took some time for me to feel at ease here.”

  “So it’s not just me?” Dakota ran one hand over his head and let out a sigh. “I’ve been a vamp for fifty years and I ain’t never seen another coven like theirs. I feel like that random friend of the family that Grandma invited over for Christmas dinner, you know? I’m the guest who never left.”

  “Yes.” Shane nodded and his mouth set in a firm line. “They’re all so close that it can be a difficult group to break into. Olivia and the others welcomed me, but like you, my instinct was to keep them all at a distance. It had been so many years since I’d had any kind of family that I had all but forgotten how to be a part of one.”

  “What about Maya?” Dakota folded his arms over his chest and stared again out over the glittering water of the Hudson River. He didn’t want to give Shane any clue about his feelings for Trixie, especially when he wasn’t sure about them himself. “I mean, she’s your bloodmate, right? Didn’t you want to, well, not keep her at a distance?”

  “On the contrary”—Shane let out something that almost sounded like a laugh—“I stayed away from her as much as possible, but before long I found it…I found her…inescapable. I did not want to be drawn to her, and I can assure you that the all-consuming urge to be near her was quite unsettling. I’d existed on this earth for almost four centuries, knowing exactly who I was and what my purpose was. And then I came here to this city and this coven…to Maya.”

  A gust of wind blew over them and with it came Trixie’s whiskey-tinged scent. A surge of anxiety rushed through Dakota because the scent was growing weaker, and if he didn’t get a move on, he could lose it all together.

  “Not to be rude, Quesada, but is there a point anywhere in this little speech?” He pulled his leather gloves out of his coat pockets and tugged them on. “Trixie’s got a decent head start and I’ll never live it down if I lose her trail.”

  “Yes.” Shane turned to him and slapped him on the arm. “The point is, don’t allow yourself to be a stubborn fool. Life, even for a vampire, can be full of surprises. And change is inevitable for all creatures.”

  “Alright,” Dakota said slowly. “Thanks for the pep talk, gramps.”

  “Anytime.” Shane hopped off the wall and strode toward the entrance to The Cloisters. “And one more thing, Shelton.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You can’t fight fate.”

  As Shane disappeared through the doors, Dakota could swear that the son of a gun was laughing.

  Chapter 3

  Trixie knew she was coming around too often, but she couldn’t help herself. Perched in her favorite spot among the treetops, she picked up the shrill chirp of a cell phone as it filled the air for a moment or two before Chelsea answered it. A smile bloomed on the woman’s face as she spoke to whoever was on the line.

  Satisfied she was both safe and happy, Trixie knew it was time to go. But when Chelsea turned and stepped away from the sink, she revealed her swollen pregnant belly. A smile curved Trixie’s lips because Chelsea’s tummy looked much bigger than it had a couple of weeks ago.

  She was at least seven months along. Maybe more. Trixie had seen Chelsea’s boyfriend several times over the past year, and he was obviously the father of her unborn child. Were they going to get married? Trixie imagined Chelsea walking down the aisle in a white wedding dress, and a pit of sadness bloomed in her chest.

  Yet one more milestone in Chelsea’s life that Trixie wouldn’t be a part of. Trixie was a ghost, a specter lurking in the trees like a creepy, fucking Peeping Tom.

  The sound of a car coming down the long gravel driveway pulled Trixie from her bout of self-pity. The blue sedan stopped in front of the house, and a few moments later, Chelsea came out. Bundled up in a warm coat to protect her from the chill in the early November air, she opened the front passenger door and climbed in.

  Trixie’s stomach roiled when a faint but familiar scent wafted out of the car and a cramp racked her stomach. Gritting her teeth against the unpleasant scent, she gripped the branch above her with both hands. Her black-painted fingernails dug into the bark as she wrinkled her nose and shook her head in an effort to get rid of the stink. Chelsea’s boyfriend smelled like rotten fruit or old flowers or something, and the scent actually made her a little nauseated.

  “Jeez,” Trixie whispered in a rush as the car backed down the long driveway. “What the hell does he do for a living that makes him smell like that? There’s no way Chelsea can smell that or she’d never hang out with him.” She wrinkled her nose. Having heightened senses wasn’t always a blessing. “Phew.”

  The subtle but distinctive sound of air rushing nearby made her freeze in place. She wasn’t alone. Another vampire had landed in the vicinity. Why the hell would any other vamp come to Chelsea’s house in the middle of the freaking woods? Fear, panic, and an overwhelming desire to protect the young woman swelled inside her. She would be damned if any vamps would mess with this particular human—let alone feed on her.

  All of her senses went on high alert, and as the headlights vanished in the distance, Trixie dropped soundlessly to the ground. Standing in a battle-ready position, her feet firmly planted on the needle-covered surface and her hands curled into fists at her side, she scanned the area for her unwelcome visitor. A gust of November wind whisked over her, rustling the fallen leaves on the ground. With it came the all-too-familiar scent of sandalwood, cinnamon, and leather.

  A potent rush of arousal and anticipation f
ired through her, a feeling she had all but forgotten until a certain vampire cowboy came to the city two years ago and turned her world on its ear. She’d been turned on since becoming a vamp but not like this, not in such an uncontrolled way. Trixie had always been the one to seek out sex as a way to scratch an itch but this was different.

  This time the itch was hunting her.

  “I know you’re here, Dakota,” she said in a singsong voice. He might make her feel all kinds of out of sorts, but that didn’t mean she had to let him know that.

  Trixie stood taller. Shane had been training her to fight and she’d discovered she had a knack for it. In fact, she enjoyed practicing so much that she’d installed a kickboxing stand in her apartment and spent several afternoons beating the crap out of it.

  Learning how to defend herself and her coven was empowering and cathartic.

  Her fighting skills might come in handy now, especially if old blue eyes tried to get too friendly. Wound tight with a mixture of lust and anxiety and—she hated to admit it—a healthy amount of curiosity, she scanned the moonlit forest.

  He was out there…watching.

  “You know,” she shouted, “for a sentry, you kind of suck at sneaking up on people! What’s your deal, man? Did you come out here to take me up on my offer to kick your ass?”

  An owl hooted in the distance and a fat raccoon waddled by quickly. Tension filled the air, and just when she thought she would scream with frustration, a tall broad-shouldered figure stepped out of the moonlit shadows of a neighboring tree. He slipped his hands in the pockets of his long leather sentry coat and leaned casually against the massive pine. Cocky as ever, he winked at her and acted like it was no big deal that he had been following her.

  “Hello, darlin’,” he drawled in that I’m-just-a-good-old-boy tone. “You only noticed me here because I let you. I kept my distance until the humans left.”

  “What are you doing out here?” Trixie demanded. She strode toward him, hands on her hips, but stopped about two feet away. Best to keep some space between them. Like it or not, he was now a part of her coven. Sort of. Flirting was one thing, but if he actually did make a move, rejecting him would make things super awkward between them. “Seriously. Why are you following me?”

  “Curiosity got the better of me. You’ve been runnin’ off every other Sunday night for the past couple months and not tellin’ anybody where you’re gettin’ off to.” He pushed himself off the tree and fished one of those damn lollipops out of his pocket before popping it in his mouth. “Not only that. Suzie said I should.”

  “Oh really?” Trixie folded her arms over her breasts and cocked her head. “I call bullshit on that, smart guy. Suzie barely speaks to me, her coven mate, let alone you, a newcomer.”

  “Well, she did speak to me and I ain’t that new.” A touch of irritation edged his voice and for a second he looked almost wounded. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been here for two years.”

  “Whatever,” she said as casually as possible. She had noticed. A lot. “That’s new as far as vampires are concerned.”

  “True.” He took a step closer and she held her ground. “Suzie said you might be gettin’ yourself into trouble and that I should check on you. I was thinkin’ you found a prime huntin’ ground that was out of the way of the city, where your hunts wouldn’t be noticed. Is that what this is?”

  He inched nearer and his voice dropped low. He dragged the little white stick from his lips and pointed it at her. “You casin’ out this house and the humans who live here for a feedin’ frenzy? If so, how about lettin’ me in on it? I haven’t had a live feed in a long while.”

  Live feeds, while not illegal, were strongly discouraged because they could lead to unwanted complications. Even though she missed the buzz that came with feeding from a human, Trixie didn’t miss getting the blood memories.

  She hadn’t fed off a living, breathing human in over a year, and the idea of anyone feeding off Chelsea was downright revolting.

  “You won’t touch her,” Trixie hissed. She bared her fangs, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and shoved at him. He didn’t move. She might be a vampire with the strength of twenty men but Dakota was bigger, older, and stronger. “She is not prey for me, you, or anyone else. Do you understand me? I don’t want anyone in the community to know about her. Chelsea is off-limits,” she said, seething. “And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t come here again.”

  Dakota towered over her, but Trixie was not going to back down. The stench of silver from the weapons hidden in his coat scorched her nostrils, but the comforting scent of sandalwood clung to him, soothing the burn. Damn. He smelled good. Too good. Her fingers curled tighter around the smooth leather of his coat, and her knuckles met the firm, unyielding muscles of his chest. She’d long suspected the man was nothing but bone, muscle, and sinew under all that leather.

  Suspicions confirmed.

  Why was she attracted to a man who was as deadly as he was cocky? Glutton for punishment. That had to be it. Even as a human she never could lay off the boys who were no good for her—and look where that had gotten her.

  “You lookin’ to tangle with me?” Dakota leaned into her grasp and arched one eyebrow. “I’m happy to oblige.”

  He was trying to intimidate her into submission. Trixie wasn’t easily intimidated by anyone, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be by him, his weaponry, his position as a sentry, or his penetrating stare.

  Dakota inched closer and pressed his firm body further into her grasp. His lips tilted, giving her a glimpse of the tip of one of his fangs. Trixie let out a strangled groan and licked her lower lip. Why was seeing only a part of his fangs such a fucking turn-on?

  “If by ‘tangle’ you mean have me kick your ass?” She hoped like hell he couldn’t see right through her. “Then, yeah, and for the record, I’m not afraid of you.”

  Dakota’s bluish-gray eyes peered at her beneath his furrowed brow. His short-cropped dark blond hair glistened in the silvery moonlight. His hands hung at his sides and his lack of response both frustrated and confused her. He was a sentry for the Presidium and she’d basically just attacked him, but the guy did nothing. Most sentries, even Shane, wouldn’t take crap from a vamp like her.

  “Say something.” Trixie softened her tone.

  “Like what?”

  Maybe she’d get a more favorable response if she wasn’t so bitchy. The worst part of this whole stupid mess was that her instinct was to be nice to him. She liked him but she didn’t want to want him. Not like this.

  “How about,” she began slowly, “if you promise me that you won’t come here again. Ever.”

  In a surprisingly disarming move, Dakota’s large hands settled on hers and he held them against his chest. A rush of warmth whisked over her skin when his flesh covered hers, and her blood hummed with awareness. She’d touched other vampires, platonically and otherwise, but none of them made her feel like this. For a human, a vamp would feel cool to the touch. To another vampire, their skin was basically room temperature or neutral.

  But not Dakota.

  His hands were warm, firm, and rough. They were the hands of a man who knew a hard day’s work, and damn if that wasn’t a turn-on. What was it about a man’s man that could get a girl’s blood moving? She thought of the little horse he’d carved for Emily and something inside her quivered. These hands of his could put down an enemy with swift precision, but they could also gently and painstakingly cradle a piece of wood, massaging it and whittling it carefully until it became a delicate treasure. There was more to this cowboy than met the eye.

  Tender and rough. Sweet but lethal.

  How would it feel to have these hands running over more sensitive parts of her anatomy?

  To be cherished, cradled, and coveted?

  What was she doing? Trixie blinked. He was a sentry, a soldier who dealt in death and violen
ce. There was nothing tender about that. But still…

  Pinned beneath his intense blue stare and his impossibly warm hands, she fought the surge of desire that sizzled and simmered in her blood. Her arms were crushed between their bodies, and it was impossible not to notice the subtle movements of his muscles as he inched closer.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” he whispered, his thumb rasping lightly over her knuckles. “You tell me why you’re comin’ to this house in the middle of nowhere, and I’ll promise to keep your secret.”

  “You don’t know my secrets.” Trixie tried to tug her hands from beneath his but he refused to release her. “Please let me go.”

  “Not yet.” He held her in a viselike grip, cool as ice. “So you have more secrets than these little visits to the woods?”

  “I said, let me go,” she ground out.

  “Why?” he asked in an almost lighthearted tone. “The sun won’t be up for a few hours and you still haven’t answered my questions. I am a sentry for the Presidium—you know, that pesky vampire government. Didn’t anyone teach you to respect authority?”

  “Yeah, you may be a vamp cop,” she scoffed. “But your boss is my maker. I win.”

  “You are a spitfire of a woman, do you know that? You remind me of a horse that hasn’t been broken yet. All skittish and full of wild energy.”

  “Are you for real?” Her jaw fell open. “Did you just compare me to a horse?”

  “It’s a compliment. You’re spirited. I always preferred wild horses to the ones who’d been saddled.” His eyes twinkled with mischief and flashed at her in the dark, twin pools of silver that harkened of desire and danger. “I like that in a woman. And tellin’ me you have secrets is like throwin’ a scented shoe in front of a hound dog. Only makes me want to find out what they are.”

  “Whatever secrets I have are mine and they’re called secrets for a reason, genius. It’s stuff I don’t want anyone else to know about. Okay? It’s personal. I don’t know you well enough to tell you my favorite band, let alone my secrets.”