Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

by Sara Humphreys

  His expression was serious but his tone was playful, and it confused the hell out her. What was his endgame?

  “Hang on.” Trixie shook her head and held up both hands. “Wait just one damn minute. Stop answering my questions with another question. Okay?”

  “Why?” His lips tilted and he shifted his body nearer. “Am I finally crackin’ that tough shell you have wrapped around you?”

  The tingling in her belly turned to throbs, and her fangs hummed as his hungry gaze met hers. Trixie had the unmistakable sense of being hunted. That’s what he was doing. Dakota was sniffing around and hunting for answers to questions she didn’t want to face. Ever.

  The man was attracting her and repelling her at the same time, and the entire situation was making her dizzy.

  “See?” She took a step back as awareness hummed through her blood. “Another question.”

  “Yup.” He winked and kept moving toward her. “I’m full of ’em.”

  “You’re full of something, alright.”

  “I never could walk away from a curious situation. My mama told me it was gonna get me in trouble someday, and I guess she was right. After all, it was my curious nature that got me turned vamp.” His voice, a raspy whisper, fluttered over Trixie as a cool breeze whisked through the trees. “Who is Chelsea? Why are you so dang sad every time you look at little Emily? And why are you hell-bent on fightin’ with me when all I want is to be your friend?”

  “My friend?” She scoffed. “Not my bloodmate?”

  “Yeah. What’s the matter? You have so many friends you don’t need one more?” He frowned. “And why do the two have to be mutually exclusive? If you ask me, the woman I’m meant to spend eternity with damn well better be my friend.”

  “Okay, friend.” She held up two hands to stop him from getting any closer, but of course he kept coming. “There’s not going to be any eternity togetherness. How about you stop with the twenty questions and answer my one.”

  She could have run or flown away but she didn’t. She knew she shouldn’t entertain this unhealthy attraction to Dakota, but she also couldn’t resist it. God. What the hell was wrong with her?

  “I told you.” Dakota’s hands hung at his sides but she sensed tension in his broad-shouldered frame. “I came out here to follow up on somethin’ and it doesn’t have to do with your friend Chelsea. Not directly anyway.”

  “What are you talking about?” Frustration, sexual and otherwise, shimmied up her back. At least the bloodmate revelation explained why she was ridiculously attracted to him. Unaware of what was behind her, she bumped into a tree and hit her head. “Ouch. Damn it.”

  She went to rub at the sore spot on her scalp, but Dakota’s large warm hand cupped the back of her head with lightning speed, beating her to it. Trixie’s entire body stilled and her fingers settled over Dakota’s while he tenderly rubbed where the tree had left its mark. Her back pressed into the bark, her black leather jacket protecting her flesh from any further injury. She stilled when the firm planes of his leather-clad thighs brushed over hers.

  The man in front of her was far more dangerous than the stupid tree, and if she allowed herself to explore the attraction, she really would get hurt. Flesh wounds knit easily but blows to the heart were another story altogether. He was picking at old scars that would never fully heal.

  “Careful, now.” His voice, almost a soothing as his touch, was quietly commanding in the darkness of the woods. “It’ll get better in a blink, but I’m sure it stung like hell. See? Now if I could add one more perk to being a vamp, it would be no pain. I mean, it’s real nice that we heal fast and all that, but gettin’ shot or stabbed still hurts like a bitch. Especially silver. That sting sticks around for too damn long.”

  Trixie swallowed hard and dropped her hand to her side but Dakota didn’t let go. His fingers threaded through her hair and fluttered along her scalp, the movement tender and seductive. Had anyone ever touched her with such reverence and gentleness?

  The answer was a resounding no.

  She’d had sex since being turned vamp and plenty of it. But it was all flesh and bone. Quickies with willing human men in the darkest corners of the city, with men who never knew her name or even cared to ask. It was about satisfying an urge, scratching an itch with quick furious strokes.

  Sex in Trixie’s world—human or vampire—had never been tender.

  Even though she and Dakota weren’t having sex right now, and they were both fully clothed, he was touching her more intimately and seductively than anyone had in her entire existence.

  “It’s fine,” she whispered shakily. “You can let me go now.”

  “It’s not fine.” Dakota’s hand slid along the nape of her neck as he shook his head slowly. “And I don’t think I want to let you go. Not even a little bit. In fact, I’m just gettin’ started with you.”

  “Why?” Her voice trembled as a storm of confusion swirled inside her. “What do you want from me, Dakota?”

  “I’m not entirely sure.” He cupped her face gently and swept his thumb along her cheek. “But let’s start with gettin’ to know each other. I’ve been here for almost two years, and until a couple of weeks ago, you’d barely said three words to me. And now that we know we’re…you know…”

  “Don’t say the B word. Please, this whole situation has me totally freaked out.” Trixie studied him closely, looking for any sign of deception, trying to see if he really was the good guy he claimed to be. “I-I’m not good with men. My track record sucks.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip and the whisper of friction sent a shiver up her spine. “I had a hunch that was the case. You strike me as a woman who’s been burned more than once. But lucky for you I’m stubborn as a mule. I want to know you, Trixie. I want to know who you are…who you really are. Is that so bad? Forget the bloodmate stuff for now and let’s just get to know each other.”

  When Dakota’s mouth covered hers, the world around her erupted in an explosion of color and light. His lips, warm and firm, melded over hers and his tongue gently but persistently sought hers. Trixie moaned and opened to him, her hands instinctively curling around his leather coat, tugging him hard against her.

  He tasted like cinnamon, sweet and hot. It was those lollipops he was always sucking on. It had to be. No one could just taste like this. Or maybe he could. Damn. Whatever the reason, Trixie didn’t care. All she could think about was getting more.

  He grasped her face with both hands and groaned as he tilted her head, deepening the kiss, taking full control. His tongue lashed along hers, the intensity growing with each passing second. And with her body crushed between him and the tree, every nerve ending beneath her skin flared to life.

  It was like being hooked up to an electrical current.

  No live feed or any drug she’d taken as a human could compare to the taste and feel of this man. She held him against her, matching his greedy kiss with her own, and when the hard evidence of his desire dug into her hip, Trixie’s fangs burst free.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” Dakota murmured against her lips. He lifted his head but kept her pinned against the tree. “You taste like summertime in Texas. Sweet and hot. Damn, girl. If I still breathed, I’d be suffocated by how much I want you.”

  Trixie stilled. There was something in the tone of his voice. Gentleness? Emotion? Whatever it was, it made her nervous. If he wanted to get physical, that was one thing, but anything more than that was not happening.

  Sex? That she could do.

  Intimacy? Nope.

  “Then why are you stopping?” She nipped at his lip. “Let’s keep this going. As long as we don’t do a blood exchange, we can avoid the full mate bonding. We can still fool around.” She pressed her breasts into the hard planes of his chest and grasped the buckle of his pants.

  “What’s your hurry?” He brushed his lips over h
er forehead and covered her hands with his, stopping her from going any further. “I said that I want to get to know you and I meant it.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do,” she said before popping up on her toes and flicking her tongue over his lip. “Come on. Saddle up, cowboy.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Trixie said with more than a little incredulity. “You don’t want me?”

  “That’s not what I said,” he murmured. “And I believe I’ve made it plain that I want you.”

  “Great. Then let’s go.” She tried to unbuckle his belt, but Dakota tightened his grip over her hands. Trixie fought the tickle of panic that flickered in her chest and let out a flippant laugh that didn’t even convince her. “Well, it would be easier to do this if you didn’t have clothes on.”

  “That’s true, but gettin’ to know you doesn’t involve gettin’ naked.” His cocky grin widened. “At least, not yet.”

  What. The. Hell. He was turning her down?

  Anger and embarrassment flashed hard and fast as she yanked her hands away from his belt. Shoving him away from her, Trixie pushed her hair off her forehead, then folded her arms over her breasts. She couldn’t think of the last time, or any time, a man had rejected her for sex.

  “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to seal the deal. All that swagger of yours is bullshit.”

  Dakota didn’t move but kept his narrowed steely gaze on her, studying her like some damn bug under a microscope. She knew that look. She’d been on the receiving end of the judgmental well-aren’t-you-a-slut look plenty of times as a human.

  “What’s the matter? Didn’t the women from your time have sexual freedom? You think I’m a slut because I want to fuck you without having a freaking conversation first?”

  “This isn’t about sex. Not by a long shot.” Hands on his hips, he looked her up and down. “And, no, I don’t think you’re a slut but I do think you’re scared. And I sure as hell want to find out why.” He winked and said, “You can add that to my list of questions.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him what he could do with his list. Before she could respond, a woman’s scream pierced the night. Fear bloomed bright in Trixie’s chest.

  Chelsea.

  * * *

  Trixie’s frightened voice shot into Dakota’s mind as she bolted into the air like a bullet. The surprise of hearing her voice in his head, the sweet beauty of it, set him off balance for a split second—just long enough for Trixie to get ahead of him. Dakota swore under his breath and took off after her. It took only a few moments for him to catch up and match her speed, but he suspected that she barely noticed. The fierce, determined expression carved into her features spoke volumes as they zipped above the tree line and seared through the air side by side toward the cabin.

  You watch your pretty little ass. He touched her mind with his, praying she’d heed his warning. I think your friend is mixed up with some—

  She’s a good girl. Trixie shot back. Anger and fear laced her voice but she didn’t take her eyes off the cabin. You don’t know anything about her.

  Maybe not but you don’t know as much as you think you do.

  Damn it. Suzie warned me about this. I’ll never forgive myself if I’m too late.

  The gargoyle’s scent grew stronger as they approached and Dakota scanned the area with his heightened senses. The same car from the other night was in the driveway but the area was hauntingly quiet. Too quiet.

  Only death brought silence like this.

  Movement in the air to his left captured his attention as they dived down to the gravel driveway. Dakota whipped out the stone dagger as he landed solidly on the ground and carefully surveyed the area. The door to the porch stood open, and golden light spilled out into the darkness. No further sounds came from inside. That could easily mean that the worst had already happened. Trixie landed silently beside him, but he grabbed her arm, preventing her from going any farther.

  Let me go. She tugged but he held fast. I have to get in there.

  Wait. He shook his head slowly. The scent is strong and it could still be here.

  What are you talking about? The blood? That’s her blood, Dakota. I know it. Trixie’s brow furrowed. I have to get to her… She’s hurt. Oh my God. I can hear her heartbeat, Dakota. It’s fading. Her voice shook and tears filled her eyes. Please let me go. I have to help her. Damn it all. This is your fault. If I hadn’t been out there wasting time with you, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

  Fine. Her words stung like hell but he didn’t flinch. But I’m a sentry and you damn well better do as I tell you. Besides, you don’t know what you’re messin’ with. He pulled her closer and scanned the area around them intently, his enhanced vision revealing who or what could be hiding in the woods. The gargoyle’s pungent aroma was fading and the trail was off to the west of them, toward the main road, which was probably where the coward ran. You’re gonna get yourself killed.

  You don’t understand. Tears spilled down her cheeks and tugged at Dakota’s withered excuse of a heart. She’s my daughter.

  Stunned by her admission, Dakota loosened his grip just enough for Trixie to yank her arm from his grasp. As she disappeared inside the house in a blur of speed, a renewed surge of hatred for gargoyles bubbled up. He closed his eyes and refocused his attention, immediately picking up on the gargoyle’s scent. He snapped his head to the left and a growl rumbled in his chest as he leaped into the air, following the bastard’s trail.

  Chapter 7

  The smell of blood overwhelmed Trixie the instant she stepped inside the tiny cabin, but it was the first time in decades that it made her stomach turn. This wasn’t just any human’s blood…it was Chelsea’s.

  She’d been too late.

  Clutching her belly with one hand, Trixie stood in the living room and tried to calm her quaking body, but it was useless. A sense of dread filled her as she moved through the house, surveying the wreckage. The sweetly decorated home, the one that Chelsea had worked so hard to maintain, was completely destroyed in the wake of what must have been an epic battle.

  Trixie made her way toward the bedroom at the back of the cabin, following the horrifying sound of Chelsea’s fading heartbeat. She wanted to run, to fly. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. Fear and disbelief had her in their viselike grip and made her feel as though she was walking through a river of molasses.

  She was rendered practically immobile by the idea of what she might find in that bedroom. Blood smeared the wooden floor of the hallway, and the sight turned Trixie’s stomach. Mingled with the familiar scent of blood was the aroma of rotten flowers.

  Trixie pushed the door open and let out a strangled cry. Chelsea was on the floor, unconscious and bleeding from several wounds to her chest. The white nightgown she wore was stained red and torn from whoever had attacked her, but amid the damage, it was evident she was no longer pregnant.

  On the ground nearby lay the body of a creature Trixie had never seen before. It was covered in greenish-gray scaly flesh, its body contorted in death, its face frozen in mid-wail. It looked like something that hovered between man and animal. A high forehead gave way to long pointed ears. It had a flat nose, a mouthful of sharp-looking teeth, and large pair of leathery wings that were curled around the body in a macabre embrace. Long, daggerlike claws curled out from the bony, blood-covered hands.

  Chelsea’s blood.

  Whatever that thing was, it was dead.

  Dakota! She screamed his name, praying he would hear her. I need your help!

  After what she’d said to him, basically blaming him for Chelsea getting hurt, she wouldn’t be shocked if he didn’t respond. Trixie launched herself across the room and knelt down next to her daughter. She pushed the matted, bloodied strands of hair from Chelsea’s sweet face, gently lifting the girl’s wounded body into her lap. Tears spilled down, blurring her vision. She glan
ced around the room frantically and spotted an empty cradle.

  There was no sign of the baby anywhere.

  “H-he took her,” Chelsea whispered in a shaky brittle voice. “He took Rebecca.”

  Trixie stilled, and for the first time since the day Chelsea was born, she found herself staring into the beautiful brown eyes of her daughter. Trixie was no longer a ghost lurking in the shadows, but a mother holding her baby girl. Why had she waited? Why had she stayed away and listened to the stupid Presidium rules? If she hadn’t, maybe none of this would have happened.

  This wasn’t Dakota’s fault. It was entirely hers.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” Trixie murmured. She cradled Chelsea in her lap and pressed a hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “I…I know you.” A flicker of recognition whispered across Chelsea’s face. She licked her dry lips and between labored breaths she whispered, “You’re the angel lady.”

  “No.” Trixie’s brow furrowed with confusion and she shook her head. “I’m no angel, Chelsea.”

  “I-I saw you.” Her voice was weak and barely audible as her blood-spattered fingers went to the gold chain around her neck. “You gave me this and said you’d watch over me.”

  “But I glamoured you,” Trixie said with a strangled sob. “You remember that night?”

  “Yes.” She curled her hand around the necklace chain as another wave of pain racked her ravaged body. “He tried… It burned…”

  “Shh.” Trixie held her tighter and gently moved the shredded nightgown so she could inspect the wounds. “Don’t try to talk. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to save your strength. We’re going to take you some place safe and then I’m going to find your baby.”

  “He…took her… Rebecca…” The words died on Chelsea’s lips and her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost consciousness.