by Erin Hayes
"If you're working for me, I can protect you," he said. "Most recruiters work for us in the hopes of gaining immortality. Enough deliveries, and they earn it. Yours would be different." He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "For the first time in our existence, we would have a recruiter working for her mortality.
"I can see you don't believe me," he said. "You think this is all some weird role-play. I assure you it's not."
If I had my eyes open, I might have seen him come toward me. As it was, I just knew he was there. I opened my eyes and stared into a mouthful of elongated teeth. The hot Viking from the party, the one so smoking hot I'd imagined him plundering his way straight toward me, had turned into a feral beast. His eyes blazed through the dark as though lit from within. He took hold of the hand with the chain and pressed it into his neck. I could smell his flesh burning.
"This isn't hot wax meant to rid the skin of hair. It hurts," he growled. "It hurts like a brand searing through mangled flesh." He dropped my hand and the chain fell free to the deck.
"We are vampires, Jade. Make no mistake. You can believe it or not; it doesn't change the fact that we exist. And right now you have the oldest vampire in existence salivating over you."
My vision started to tunnel down to one small spot centered on those ferocious looking teeth. Teeth like that had gone into my neck, they'd sunk into my breast, they'd bitten down into my tongue. How could I deny it? The dizziness stealing over me was made much worse from the weight of truth I heard in his voice. Somewhere deep within myself, I knew everything he was telling me was fact.
I swallowed, trying to stay conscious.
His thumb crept forward from the shadows and I felt it on my chin. At his touch, the dam finally broke loose. The four-day ugly cry over losing my fiancé was nothing to the waterworks that gushed from me on that balcony. That bastard. It all came back to him, the hedonistic prick. I was here, ultimately, because of his cheating, and now here he was again cheating me of something even more precious than my self-confidence.
If all those movies and novels were true, I was nothing better than vampire bait. And the bait in those things never came out ahead. They always died first. Horribly.
"Jade. Look at me," Magnus said.
I refused to look up. I would accept that he was a vampire. I would accept that a vampire had made me his bitch. I would even accept that I was going to have to... Recruit people for a chance to stay alive. All of that I would agree to accept, but I absolutely would not look up. He couldn't make me.
"Have it your way." I heard the scuffle of his shoes aiming for the French doors. "But I'm hungry and I don't have time to coddle you. Either get up and come with me, or stay there and freeze till Gio comes back."
Two choices? Was that all? There had to be more. My brain struggled to find another alternative. I heard the door open. He was going to leave me out here. Alone. With that monster out there somewhere.
I croaked out a word. It even sounded like "Wait."
I searched for him in the shadows and found him standing with his feet planted apart, his arms crossed over his chest. The light from the bedroom lit one half of him, showing stubble on his chin and a fierce, almost possessive expression on his face. Under different circumstances, he would make my knees go weak for entirely different reasons.
I pushed to my feet and found a wobbling stand. Given the two options, following the Viking vampire, frightening as it might be, sounded like the best alternative.
"That's it my little mambo," he said. "Don't go gently into that dark night." He chuckled.
With my hand on the railing, I was able to shuffle my way toward the door. He didn't so much as reach a hand out to help me, but waited for me to claim the victory on my own. I was grateful for that. It gave me some sense of myself back. When I reached the door, he put his hand on my waist to steady me and at his touch, I nearly collapsed.
He cursed beneath his breath, and before I could protest, he scooped me against his chest and carried me the rest of the way. This time in his arms, I realized what had been missing before. There was no heartbeat. I didn't feel him inhale or exhale. Undead. Truly undead.
A woman in a nurse uniform stood where Gio had before. Her fingers were knitting together with anxious contemplation as she stood near the bed. I noticed that she avoided Magnus's eye.
"Hook her back up for one final bottle, Ana."
Magnus moved across the floor so fluidly, I thought we were hovering on a current of air. I assumed because of my fragile condition he would lay me gently back down on the bed. I even braced myself, thinking I would help ease the transition.
He dropped me onto the mattress with as much care as he would take for a pile of dirty laundry. I felt myself bounce twice and even bit the side of my tongue, making me cry out in sudden pain.
He peered down at me thoughtfully. "It would be safest to stay for the night," he said. "But you can go in the morning." With that, he turned heel and strode from the room. Hungry, he'd said. Well I suppose I could thank my lucky stars that I was already tapped out. Except for that strange warmth between my legs, I could've almost believed it.
Ana bustled about for a moment, pulling the sheets up over my bare legs. She fiddled with the IV, sticking the needle back into the waiting host. She left me to my thoughts for a few moments then came back with a tray. A bowl of tepid broth sat on it next to a single spoon.
"They forget we need to eat," she said.
I tried to ask her if she believed in vampires. What came out sounded something like: "Beleath wampeer." But she got the point.
She lifted a smoky brow, the color of it the last evidence of her youth.
"Honey," she said. "The only thing I don't believe in anymore is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."
Chapter Six
MOVING ON UP
"There's nothing like it in the world." Magnus looked uncomfortable on my fake leather sofa and while I enjoyed looking at him, it was very much like admiring a panther reclining on Astroturf. The activity was both ludicrous and dangerous at the same time. I eyed the deep burgundy vinyl from my reclaimed La-Z-Boy chair opposite him, chewing my lip and thinking that I had definitely taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque when I tumbled into this existence. The faux leather was just the most recent evidence of that fact. I'd bought the thing because I thought it offered a certain sophistication, and even in my tiny apartment with the shelves of books, I was satisfied it had achieved the look I was going for. But with Magnus sitting on it, I saw it for what it was: cheap. And I realized my existence for what it was: temporary at best.
"Nothing like it anywhere?" I asked him. "How do you know?"
He shook his head. "I'd know because the oldest vampires, the richest of our kind, come to us. If there were other clubs like us, we wouldn't be able to boast that." He fidgeted where he sat, and then finally stood to tower over me as though he'd lost patience trying to be polite and patient with me.
For the last hour since midnight, he'd been schooling me on the elite club that he'd set up, the club I now recruited for apparently. He'd lost his temper with me three times so far, indicating that I was a slow learner, and I'd lost my temper at least as much. I mean, it wasn't as if all of my faculties were raging in the on position quite yet. I still got dizzy if I moved too fast. He really needed to cut me a break.
It had only been three days since I'd last seen him at his posh mansion, and I'd begun to believe that the whole horrible night had just been some sort of evil fugue state. After checking in with my boss to be sure that I actually had lost my job--I had, by the way – I sunk down into the fluffiest part of my bedroom with every single light in my apartment left blazing and two 4 liter jugs of water next to me. I pumped the water jugs with powdered electrolytes and power-peed by hovering over the toilet seat because I was afraid of the time it would take to get up if someone broke in.
I slept because I was exhausted and spent, but every time I closed my eyes, the visions behind my lids teased
me awake.
I was completely unfit for anything except hiding out in my apartment, doing my best to pump my body with nutrition to combat the general malaise and fatigue that hounded me. Two days, and with no visits, I started to think that I might be able to shut off a light or two. Three days, and I was willing to close my bedroom door rather than leave it wide open in case a monster entered my apartment that I needed to see.
The third night, I realized that I had been measuring my time completely backwards.
The undead moved at night, not day. Silly woman.
I'd woken with him standing over me, and I nearly vomited out my heart along with the twenty ounces of water I'd ingested.
He held my hair back for me as I let go into the garbage can.
"You make the strangest noises," he said.
"What?" I demanded, insulted. "Haven't you ever thrown up?" I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and craned my neck to look at him. He appeared interested, but not disgusted. Score one for the undead.
"I'd forgotten what it was like to see someone truly sleep." He took the garbage can that I'd hastily grabbed for when my stomach rebelled and placed it delicately in the farthest corner of the room.
"I'm lucky I can make noises at all," I said haughtily.
His blond brows lifted in surprise. "Very good, my little mambo" he said. "You're healing nicely."
I didn't miss the fleeting glance he'd sent trailing down my throat to my chest. I remembered I was wearing an over-sized T-shirt and that was it. I hesitated getting out of bed. Something about lying beneath the quilts in the sanctity of my own bed made me feel safe. I had the ridiculous notion that if I lifted the blankets, I'd somehow be inviting him closer. Something about him being closer made me squirm uncomfortably.
"I'm not healed enough," I said.
He cocked his head at me, thinking. Realization flooded his face with humor. "You're worried I'll bite you." It almost sounded like he was holding back a laugh.
"Well," I hedged. "Yes."
"Yes?" he asked. "Is that really it or are you afraid I'll get in with you?" His taunting gaze made me feel like there was an entire confession running across my forehead like a neon sign.
I'd flipped the sheets back with a snap and headed for him, oversized T-shirt sticking to my thighs as I went. I forced myself past him into the living room where my bookshelves and fake leather couch made me feel like I was living in an exotic library. I sat down in the Lazy boy and crossed my arms, waiting. He followed behind me, chuckling beneath his breath until I was ready to work up the nerve to kick him in the shins.
"What do you want?" I asked him.
"I told you three nights ago," he said. He repeated his command that I find a job in the governor's office, and that I begin working for him, and I told him to go straight to hell. Which put us at an impasse that took us into territory I would rather have not entered.
"It's a club for vampires, Jade. Very elite. Our members pay large sums of money to have us feed their addictions. We all crave something, my little mambo. Vampires are no different."
"Stop calling me that."
He ignored my pique. "You know how we survive, the things we do. The older we get, the finer our palate becomes. Those of us who have lived long enough have managed to amass enough fortune that we can coddle that palate."
"And what does this Gio want from me?" It was a question that haunted my dreams. Why me? Why didn't he just kill me?
"I think you know the answer." He stretched himself onto the sofa, letting his arm ride the back. He surveyed the room from the spot. I could totally imagine him stepping from his longboat onto the shore, his sword in hand, assessing which place to plunder first "Better to ask me whether he will stop wanting you."
I pulled my legs up beneath me, determined not to show my anxiety.
"So then what do you want?"
"I told you this. You're going to recruit for me."
"And what is it that I recruit?"
"People."
"People?" I laughed nervously. "What? Are you building an army?"
"Food."
"What?"
"You heard me. Much like going to the supermarket and selecting the finest ingredients." He shrugged. "But a better explanation would be going down into a massive wine cellar and selecting just the right bouquet to accompany a gamy entree."
"That's disgusting." I gawked at him.
Again, he shrugged. "Perhaps."
"You want me to find people to kill." I could hear the incredulousness in my tone and didn't bother to hide it.
"I want you to find people that we will kill." He said the words slowly, drawing attention to the difference.
I swallowed down the remnants of bile. "I can't do that. That's disgusting."
"So you said." He took the news impassively, not a muscle in his body betrayed what he might've thought of my disgust. More than likely, it was because he didn't care.
I watched him watching me, he so obviously waiting for me to change my mind.
"I won't do it." I leaned back in the chair, trying to mirror his posture.
"Fine," he said. "I'll just let Gio know that you're available."
"You can't be serious? You want me to find people, to lead them to their deaths. That's ridiculous."
"It may be ridiculous, but it's necessary."
"What if I say no?"
"You can say what you like. You can even pretend to have a choice. We both know better."
I fumed as I sat there. "And what about this governor's job? Exactly what do you think I'm going to do there? Assuming I manage to find one."
"I'll let you know when the time comes."
"You're infuriating."
He ignored that. "You need to start recruiting right away."
"Of course I do." Of course I did. When did a man, vampire or not, ever want anything except straightaway.
"I need you to find me a very special recruit."
"Of course you do."
A smile snaked across his face. "Of course I do," he repeated.
He was mocking me; I just wouldn't have it.
"You mean I need to find you a very special murder victim."
"She."
"What do you mean she?"
"I mean this very special recruit needs to be a woman."
"Of course she does."
He ignored the vitriol in my tone. "A priestess."
I almost gave away my surprise, but I managed to keep my hands screwed into my lap. I suffered a moment of panic. He had to think my costume had come from a clerk I believed was some sort of Haitian voodoo priestess. The bastard was reading my mind and using information for his own gain. Either that, or someone at the party had seen me dressed as a voodoo Queen and had decided that he just had to enjoy a taste of that vintage. I had to struggle not to let my gaze trail to the drawer of my coffee table where I'd stuffed the bone bracelet when I'd come home.
"A priestess," he repeated. "You will find me a priestess and you'll find yourself a job. In that order."
It took me long moments to formulate my answer as I looked at him, sprawled across my couch with a grace that looked both powerful and dangerous. I had to be careful with this one lest I end up trading one set of teeth for another.
He grinned at me like he'd heard my thoughts, but he waited for me to answer.
"Sure," I said, nodding, even though I knew full well that when he left I'd promptly be forgetting that shit. I just needed to get him out of there. That's all I could work out for the moment. Say what he wanted to hear; get him the fuck out.
"I'll be back in a few days. See how you make out." He didn't get up right away, just blinked at me.
"Sure."
"A priestess, and a job."
"Right."
His gaze fell to my chest and I felt my hand reach for the spot where Gio had sunk his teeth. I felt a flush creep up my neck.
"Don't forget the chain," he said and got up finally. I would have walked him to the door, but
he was across the living room so fast I didn't have time to even contemplate it.
He turned his Viking gaze, all smoldering with the heat of promised plunder, on me. "As for the teeth, my little mambo, I don't trade dishes with anyone." He surveyed me from throat to wrist, giving me the distinct impression he was imagining my taste and wasn't savoring the resulting bouquet. I felt oddly offended.
I threw a book at the door when he closed it behind him.
I made the foolish mistake after Magnus left of looking into the bathroom mirror, thinking to splash some cold water on my face to shock me out of the fantasy world I'd somehow slipped into. Truth be told, after I'd got home from the party, I'd slept most of the time, and when I did make my way into the bathroom to relieve myself of all the water I drank, I avoided the mirror because I didn't want to see the bruises on my skin. This particular time took me off guard. I splashed the water from the sink onto my face, and as was habit, peered into the mirror to sop up the wet with a face towel.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, thinking that the face that peered back at me was some horrible succubus trying to worm its way into my dimension. My hair was still a tangled mess from the party, but instead of a lustrous black, it looked like gobs of SOS pad. My cheekbones strained against my skin, creating black hollows of flesh that were just this side of crone-like. Even the eyes that stared out of the mirror retreated from the sight. They were hollowed in, red-rimmed, and jaundiced looking.
"That fucking bastard," I said and fell back against the other wall, groping at the tiles to keep myself upright. I scrabbled from the bathroom and fell on the bed backwards. "That fucking blood-sucking bastard."
Mess with a girl's self-esteem, her B12 and iron levels, maybe even her bag of potato chips and vanilla ice cream when she's PMSing, but seriously do not mess with her looks. Mi amore, indeed. The beast had some serious issues if he was attracted to that disgusting mess I just caught a glimpse of in the bathroom. And that disgusting mess had some serious beauty sleep to catch up on. I doubted Jesus rising from his grave on the third day looked as bad as that old corpse. I remember how hot I'd looked wrapped in that rayon sarong with my hair teased into a sensual if not messy pile on top of my head, strolling about the party as though all I had to worry about was whether or not my deodorant would hold on until I'd managed to get Sam between my legs. I would've cried if I wasn't so worried about losing more fluid and drying my skin out more.