The First Vampire

by Alicia Ryan

  A series of quick turns brought them into a formal dining room. This was a rarity in New York, and Ariana was delighted to see that it was set formally and just for two. She couldn’t say why, but having to share Ash with strangers making small talk would have been too much for her to bear. She wanted to get to know him.

  The realization made her stop short, so that Ash almost ran into her. “Is everything all right, love?”

  The casual endearment uttered in that voice of his made her skin tingle. What was it about this man that he had such sway over her after one meeting?

  She suddenly realized she hadn’t once thought of James since she’d arrived. A sick feeling crept into the pit of her stomach and lodged itself there like underdone hamburger. She walked farther into the room without turning back to explain.

  Ash followed and pulled out a chair at one of the places for her. He took the place set to her right.

  The same little maid who’d let Ariana in earlier now appeared to pour them both wine. Ariana took advantage of the interruption to get her thoughts in order and give herself another lecture on keeping business separate from pleasure. She was determined to get the discussion back into safer territory. “So tell me more about your plans,” she invited. “Roger gave me the bare bones, but that was about it.”

  “Well,” Ash took a sip of his wine, “over the years, my financial house has been allowed to get a little too diversified. I have investments in projects of all sizes, all over the world. I want to consolidate the management of at least a portion of my assets, and I want to do it with Tailwind Investments, with you and Roger.”

  “And you think I need to come to London to assist in executing the transition?”

  “Not assist, Ariana.” Ash’s tone was newly serious and careful. “You, assuming you come, will have complete control of the process. My London advisers will take direction from you.”

  He seemed to want her pretty badly. “Who are they?” she asked.

  Ash shrugged. “A couple of suits I hired away from Goldman Sachs to work full-time for me and a couple of others.”

  “Won’t they be reluctant to work with me since I’m essentially going to be taking away part of their job?”

  Ash shook his head as he spoke. “I don’t think so. They are already overworked. Plus, they know they don’t have the expertise you and Roger bring to the table.”

  Ash paused while the maid placed salads in front of them. “Thank you, Nancy,” he said, quickly turning his attention back to Ariana. “My lead adviser, Justin, and I have discussed this at some length, actually, and he’s one hundred percent on board.”

  Ariana opened her mouth and started to speak, but thought better of it. Even if she could come up with a hundred good objections, they didn’t really matter. Roger was counting on her to make this work, and make it work was exactly what she would do.

  “This will be good for your career, Ariana,” Ash said, surprising her. “You’ve achieved much in a very short time. I would never ask you to do anything to jeopardize your professional future.”

  “Thank you.” Ariana turned her attention to her salad, not knowing what else to say. Sensitivity to her career aspirations was an unexpected development.

  Soon salad was replaced by grilled wild salmon on a bed of vegetable couscous.

  “You know, Ariana,” Ash said, setting aside his perfectly weighted silver fork, “other than your resume and your successful management of my money to date, I don’t know much about you.”

  Though she found his impersonal tone comforting, a smidgen of dread crept into the pit of her stomach, marring her enjoyment of the perfectly cooked fish. It’s a completely legitimate question, she told herself. No need to read anything too personal into it.

  Ariana smiled brightly. “What more do you need to know?”

  Ash half returned her smile, but his gaze was piercing. “Everything.”

  Spending time with this man was definitely going to be bad for her digestion, she thought. “Everything isn’t really that much, I’m afraid.”

  Ash looked skeptical, forcing her to continue. “I went to undergrad and law school at Duke, then to Stanford for an MBA. I worked in the San Francisco office of a private equity fund for a few years, and then came to New York to work at a hedge fund, which is where I met Roger. When he left to start his own fund, I went with him.”

  “Did you meet your husband in California?”

  Ariana wasn’t prepared for that question, and her bewilderment must have showed on her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Ash said, compassion warming his dark eyes. “Roger told me. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, no.” Ariana recovered her composure. “It’s all right. James and I did meet in California, while I was still in grad school. He was working for a software company in Silicon Valley.” She didn’t like where this conversation had strayed. “How about you?” she asked. “Is there a Mrs. Samson?”

  “No. There was once, but... it didn’t work out.” He looked away from her, taking a long gulp of his wine

  Soon Nancy served dessert, and they ate in awkward silence. After the plates were cleared, Ash rose and came behind Ariana to pull out her chair. “Let’s go into my study. I need to give you something.” She rose, and he pushed her chair back under the table. “And I need a drink.”

  Ariana followed him from the dining room into a wood-paneled office. “So you’ll be back in London next week?” she asked.

  “That’s right. I’m going back the day after tomorrow on the overnight flight.” Ash strode around to the other side of his desk, picked up a manila folder and handed it to her. “I had Justin pull together some initial information for you.”

  Ariana resisted the temptation to open it and dig in. When it came down to it, she really did love her work.

  “When would you like me to fly in?” she asked instead.

  “I’d like to get things rolling as soon as possible, but I know this is short notice. When do you think you can get your plate clear here in New York?”

  “Well, today is Friday.” Ariana started to think out loud and turned to stare at a spot on the wall as she often did when trying to concentrate. “It will take me at least a few days to work out with Roger how my responsibilities here are going to be divided and how we want to function going forward with me in London. Plus, I’ll probably need a day to tie up a few personal things since it looks like I might be away for an extended period.” She turned back to Ash. “So, maybe Thursday of next week?”

  Ash came around the desk and walked over to one of the panels on the side of the room and pressed a button Ariana couldn’t see. The panel slid silently to the side revealing a previously hidden, but well stocked, bar. Ariana heard the clinking of glassware before Ash handed her a glass half-full of caramel-colored liquid.

  “Shall we?” He made a motion as if to toast, and so Ariana raised her glass.

  “To the fulfillment of wishes,” Ash said.

  Okay, that was weird, she thought, as she touched her glass to his and took a small sip of the amber liquid. Cognac, she guessed, but she wasn’t an expert on after dinner drinks. A nice chocolaty Bailey’s was more her style, but this was smooth and warm; its comforting heat helped quell some of her nagging doubts.

  “You’ll stay at my house, of course.”

  So much for the quelling of doubts, Ariana thought, turning and setting her glass on the desk to cover her unease.

  “I have a large manor house outside the city,” Ash continued. “I’ll have Justin copy all the necessary documentation and bring it over. Then the three of us can work from there.” He paused and must have seen her hesitation. “Of course, I also have a flat in the city proper that I will put at your disposal,” he said, “but I think you’ll be more comfortable at the house. I’ll have an office set up for you there, and we’ll all have plenty of room to work without getting in each other’s hair—so to speak.” He smiled slightly at what seemed a private joke.

  There
now, Ariana thought. That all sounded perfectly reasonable. In fact, Ash had been perfectly reasonable all night. No hint of the predatory sex god she had glimpsed at the restaurant the night before. Maybe he had been a one-sided creation of her sex-starved imagination. That would be good. She wasn’t ready for real temptation.

  “Sounds perfect,” Ariana said, finally showing a hint of a smile. “I’ve never been to a manor before. If it’s even half as cool as your James Bond bar service over there, I’m sure it will do just fine.”

  Ash laughed and moved closer to her. “It has a few surprises.” His voice took on the seductive rumble she remembered. Ariana was a little surprised, but she liked the idea that he might have a wicked streak after all. She liked it so much she did something totally inappropriate. She took a step and closed the distance between them.

  Then she promptly lost her nerve.

  God, she was a mess, she thought as she stood there frozen, staring at the smooth skin at the collar of Ash’s shirt.

  His hand came up and one finger lightly lifted her chin until she allowed her eyes to meet his. And that was the real mistake, she thought. Suddenly it was as if the mask of the polite Ash she’d had dinner with fell away to reveal the man—no, what had she called him? Right, the predatory sex god—inside.

  Ash smiled down at her and the spell was cast. Don’t stop there, angel.

  She couldn’t tell if he’d actually said it or if it was in her imagination like the other night, but it didn’t matter. The Voice was back. She reached up and put a hand lightly on his chest.

  His smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of such intense desire that Ariana almost turned away from the force of it. Almost, but not quite.

  In an instant, his arms were around her, his lips came down to find hers, and Ariana was awash in the heat and motion of his lips and his fingers. She was being crushed between the two, but she didn’t care. The urgency of his touch warmed her insides where they had been cold for so long. She returned his kiss with a fervor that terrified her.

  Ash groaned and moved his hands lower down her back. Ariana was both relieved and alarmed to know that she wasn’t the only one so affected.

  One of his hands pushed its way up into her hair. He bent her head back slightly and deepened the kiss. Ariana felt suspended beneath the sensual onslaught of his mouth.

  Then, suddenly, Ash pulled himself away. He still looked at her with hunger, but now there was distance between them.

  Ariana was confused. Confused and more than a little ashamed of herself.

  “Ariana.” Ash’s voice sounded as strained as she felt. “I think you should go.”

  Ariana turned silently to get her bag and prayed her shame wasn’t visible on her face. She’d come on to a client, for God’s sake! And now they might lose that client. Roger would kill her. And James… she no longer owed him her loyalty, but this still felt like betrayal.

  “Ash,” she turned around, prepared to make a very long and unbecoming apology.

  “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t apologize. I want you. I want to get this deal done. If you come to London all these things and more are possible.” He handed her the folder she had laid on the desk and would have forgotten in her distraction. “I just didn’t want to scare you away tonight.”

  His words rang true, Ariana thought, but still, she hesitated. She met Ash’s gaze and was glad to see that he looked worried.

  “Come to London, Ariana,” he said. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

  He turned and pushed a button on a console on the desk. “I’m going to have Nancy see you out.”

  Ariana nodded, not wanting any front door goodnight awkwardness to pile on top of the I-just-came-on-to-a-client-whom-I-just-met awkwardness.

  “Where did you find her anyway?” Great, merciful change of subject.

  “Nancy?” Ash queried. “Oh, she’s been with me for ages.”

  CHAPTER 15

  On his way to the warehouse, Luc picked up a homeless man and sat him on the back of his motorcycle. He wouldn’t stay upright, so Luc climbed on in front of him and wrapped the man’s arms around his shoulders, holding him in place like a stinking, slobbering sweater. The man nestled his head between Luc’s shoulder blades. Luc grimaced and gunned the engine.

  In under a minute, they were pulling around the side of the large concrete structure he’d selected to house his business venture. At one point, when this part of town had still been industrial, it had stored goods for shipment out of the nearby docks and rail yard. Now, with its small office and subterranean warehouse space, it suited Luc’s needs.

  He carried the man through the empty space on the ground floor, his cowboy boots kicking up dust around his feet. At the back of the cavernous space, Luc took a set of flimsy metal stairs down to the cage level, turning on lights as he went.

  The warehouse space on the lower levels was two stories deep and, except for a row of makeshift cages, almost completely empty. Everything about his operation was shoestring, but he’d made sure the cages were sturdy enough to do the trick. One wall of the warehouse was divided into eight concrete cubby-holes, four on top and four on the bottom. Luc assumed they’d been used to store smaller, loose freight at one time. But now the four on the bottom were each outfitted with a fourth wall of steel bars, each two inches thick and three inches apart. He was fairly proud of his handiwork, as no vampire had yet been able to escape.

  Luc walked further into the darkened space. Inside the cages sat three young vampires—two males and a female. They had been there quite a while, long enough that they had stopped screaming and trying to talk to him every time he came in. Quite a change from when he’d captured them over a month ago. Vicious killers, each of them. Or so they fancied themselves. Luc didn’t feel one bit of sympathy for them. Even if he did, what was one month out of their wretched eternal lives?

  There was a fourth cage, but it remained empty. He’d gotten distracted by his brief stint as a member of Council House and never captured a fourth. Not to worry. Since Ash Samson had gotten him kicked out, it was back to Plan A without distraction.

  Luc forced his mind back to the task at hand and crossed to his workspace on the wall flanking the cages, where a stainless steel prep table gleamed in the low light. It had a sink in the middle with a drain that was connected into the cages by a series of plastic hoses.

  Luc laid the man on the prep table, quickly snapped his neck and waited for the inevitable. As the soul departed, Luc said an earnest prayer that it come back to a better life.

  Then he went to work, pulling a hook down from the ceiling and removing the man’s right shoe and sock. One short incision with a small knife freed the Achilles tendon, and Luc slipped the metal hook through it. He removed the head with one stroke of a large cleaver.

  The cleaver went into the sink and the head up on the high end of the slightly slanted table. Luc closed the eyes as blood began to drip into the narrow channels in the table and flow toward the drain.

  A bright yellow control box dangled from a nearby chain. When Luc grabbed it and pressed the black button, a pulley system cranked on overhead and raised the man’s body so that it hung, neck down, over the sink. Blood slopped into the drain and began to run through the feeder system. Luc added the contents of a small bottle to the flow and made one last incision down the length of the man’s torso.

  Sticking his hand in near the pelvis, he raked the man’s innards into a large bucket. Those he’d save to add to the next batch of synthetic blood to make it go farther. He put the bucket into the big freezer that sat against the opposite wall.

  As Luc washed his knives and his hands, precious pints flowed out of the homeless man and into the three succubi in the cages. Luc let the water run, glad to stay off to one side where he couldn’t see them sucking blood from metal spouts. It wasn’t natural.

  Once they’d drunk enough to sustain them, and the sedative began to take effect, he came around and pressed a button on t
he cages’ control panel. The three chains fastened to three vampire wrists began to slowly withdraw into the back wall of each cell. Once in place, three small blades came out and made three incisions, and vampire blood began to flow through the channels he had carved in the concrete walls, ultimately collecting in a five-gallon plastic bucket that sat on the floor to the right of Luc’s prep table. It would be filled in one drawing.

  Once the draining process was underway, Luc set the timer for the cell doors. It was time to let this bunch go.

  He took the elevator back up to the street level. He’d had enough of vampires for one night.

  Or not, he thought as the elevator doors opened into his upstairs office to reveal a khaki-clad vampire rummaging through his files.

  CHAPTER 16

  When he awoke, James found himself behind the bars of one of the cages he had observed earlier, when he’d followed the sound of running water down a rickety metal staircase onto a narrow catwalk above Luc’s operating theater. He’d only watched the gruesome sight long enough to assure himself that Luc wouldn’t be coming back up for a while. Apparently, he’d misjudged.

  A polite cough had interrupted his search of Luc’s files. He’d turned, and was caught totally off guard by the fist that whipped out and caught him underneath the chin. He got a glimpse of blond hair, a denim jacket, and fangs just before he lost consciousness.

  Now he cursed his carelessness. He might have just solved the mystery of the missing vampires, but he couldn’t tell anyone. And there was no sign of his blond captor.

  As the hours ticked by, James went over all the things he’d done wrong. If he ever got out of this, Toria was going to be furious at him. But that was not the most immediate of his problems; he was starting to get hungry.

  He wondered if Luc would let him starve. That didn’t seem to be the purpose of this little enterprise, but then, he was a prowler, not a specially chosen victim. Maybe Luc was some sort of demented vampire serial killer.