by Erin Hayes
I started to tell him why I was there and stuttered like a schoolgirl.
He shifted ever so subtly. "You found her?"
I swore I could hear my heart pounding. I nodded.
"And where is she?"
I wished he'd show me some expression to go with the tone. Both of them were flat and uninterested, and both were really disconcerting when a girl was used to getting some reaction when she stood on a man's doorstep just before midnight with absolutely no invitation to be doing so. I fidgeted, telling myself I was just freaked out about the chance of Gio making an appearance and enthralling me into letting him climb atop my ghost-riddled carcass.
"Can I come in?" I rasped out.
"You need an invitation?"
"I guess I--"
He moved deftly aside, sweeping his arm toward the foyer, but with an equally sweeping gaze over my shoulder, panning the yard behind me. No matter how luscious the interior of the manse was, no matter how beautifully lit, how incredibly rich looking, I couldn't force my feet to take one step. I could hear myself swallow.
"Jade?"
I sent a harried glance his way, pinching myself beneath the armpits as I tried to quell the trembling that had overtaken my torso. He released a short but definitely annoyed sigh.
"You were the one that asked to come in."
"I can't help it," I blurted, sick at hearing the abandonment of my bravado. "Last time I was here –"
I didn't have a chance to finish. I felt one of his arms slip beneath my knees, deftly forcing them to buckle as his other arm cradled my shoulders. He hoisted me as though I were nothing more than a fitted sheet that he had pulled from the dryer. He strode inside with quick, lengthy steps and dropped me next to the fireplace I'd seen the first time I'd come here with Sam. That first time, Magnus had been standing right in front of the mantel, and I'd caught his gaze as he greeted everyone, that mountainous man of hardened sinew only barely disguised beneath the old world furs and steel of a Viking costume. Except man wasn't the appropriate descriptor for Magnus, not even remotely close as I'd learn later. I shivered, recalling my indulgent fantasy about him capturing me in his arms. I'd been such a fool. Such a horny, pitiful fool.
"There," he said, backing away. "You're in."
He raked a hand through his blond hair, making it fall in swaths about his temples. He flipped his wrist, revealing a gold watch that he adjusted fastidiously.
My tongue probed the corner of my mouth nervously as I watched him turn his attention reluctantly to me.
"So," he said. "Where is she?"
"There was a bit of a problem."
He let loose a hint of a groan but caught the end of it short. "Recruiters fix problems. They don't bring them to me."
I didn't think I could keep my legs much longer. I spun in place, trying to find a place to sit down. The fireplace was broad and beautiful, made of stone with a magnificent granite mantel, but there wasn't a single stick of furniture next to it. Seriously. What was the good of having all this money if you couldn't provide a few seats for guests?
"Do you think I could have a chair?" I lifted my gaze to his, finally. The cobalt blue of his eyes was enough to take the rest of the steel from my legs. "Never mind," I said, sinking onto the hearth. "This will do just fine."
I let my legs splay out in front of me, not caring about the way they spread apart in an incredibly unfeminine manner. I thought I must look like a cheap Barbie doll, and I felt just about as stiff. I snorted on a giggle.
He sighed. "Do you have the silver chain?"
"Hell, yeah," I said. After my last encounter with Gio, I was willing to swallow the chain link by link just so I'd always have it with me. If the bastard came near me again, I fully planned to shove it straight up his ass and let him burn from the inside out.
"Good," Magnus said. He crouched in front of me, planting his thumb on my chin and tilting my face to his. This close, I could smell the sweetness of grass and something metallic on him. Blood, I realized. He must have just eaten.
"I forget about furniture," he said. "It's not like I have to sit idle very often." It was about as empathetic and emotional as I'd seen him.
"I would think you'd have plenty of time to sit idle."
He cracked a smile at that, and for a second I thought my throat wouldn't let my heart fall back down into place as I took it in.
"You mean because I'm immortal?"
"Something like that." I leaned against the stones and eyed him warily, thinking about who he might have had for dinner.
He pursed his lips as he looked at me, but I thought that while his eyes roamed my face thoughtfully, his mind was anywhere but on me.
"Come with me." He reached his hand out and waited for me to take it. I hesitated.
"It's okay. I won't bite."
I squinted at him, trying to decide whether he was making a joke. He'd read my mind before; I was sure of it. Why wouldn't he be doing so now?
"I said won't bite, not don't bite." He blinked. All impassive stony facade again. The good humor gone.
"How am I supposed to take that?" I demanded.
He shrugged. "Like I take you, I suppose, with much tolerance and patience."
That rankled. "Would it kill you to have a bit of furniture?"
"If only a bit of furniture could," he said.
"What?"
"Come."
He waggled his battle-hardened fingers at me. I let them press into the belly of my palm, helping me stand. The calluses felt glorious against the softness there. I think I even broke a sweat when my traitorous mind lit up with images of those hands running down my legs. The single word made my blood--what was left of it--burn as it raced through my veins. Damn my brain. The man was a vampire. The man wasn't a man at all. Hadn't I already seen what it was like on the other end of my mortality? Hadn't I already decided to live no matter the cost? It was the sole reason I'd taken on the recruiter job.
"I think I'd rather stay here," I said, pulling my hand free of his. I very purposefully took two steps away from him. I willed my trembling knees to lock up tight.
"You're afraid," he said.
I wished he'd blink or something. "Damn straight."
"But not of me."
"Who the hell else would I be afraid of?" I made an obvious point of peering around the room as though I expected someone else to step out from behind the velvet curtains.
He shrugged, and the movement of the massive shoulders made his entire shirt ride up, displaying a hard, toned belly. "Not who."
"What?"
"Exactly." He took two very purposeful steps toward me. "You're afraid of your reaction to me." He leaned against the fireplace, propping his palm on the stones as he regarded me. "You want to fuck me."
Chapter Ten
BORN TO BE WILD
I was so flabbergasted I couldn't form a word of protest.
"It's okay," he said, leaning toward me as though I was a fidgety squirrel he was trying to coax. "It happens all the time."
I thought he could see me struggling to breathe. He swooped in and back as though he'd planned to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. I braced myself.
"Except we don't have time for that tonight, Jade." He adjusted his watch again, sent a quick glance toward the foyer.
I stuttered out something that sounded like how dare you and he had the nerve to chuckle.
"Don't worry," he said. "You're attractive enough in your way but I'm just not interested."
"Because I'm not your type," I spit out. I had no trouble keeping my knees rigid at that. Even my fists spasmed into tight balls.
The chuckle transformed into a growling laugh, infuriating me more.
"Good one," he said, extending his hand again. "But no. Not a type issue. More a matter of urgency. I need you to come with me. That's all."
I threw my shoulders back stubbornly. I had a reason for being there, one he had thrust on me, and now that he'd insulted me, I felt as spiteful enough to chew the nose of
f my own face.
"I will not."
"You will." His face tightened in anger.
"Does every vampire have some sort of super inflated ego?" I demanded. "I said no."
"You have very poor timing, Jade. End of point. I'm expecting company."
"Hey, you're the one who told me I had a week to get you a priestess..."
"I did, yes. And you said there was a problem. Then you asked to come in. Now, we're here and I am now in the position of having to keep you out of sight. You might think cooperation would be a nice show of gratitude."
He waited precisely three seconds for me to comply before he commandeered the silence.
"If you don't come willingly, I will have to force you." He took me in from head to heel and I had the very distinct impression that he was about to fling me over his shoulder. I backed away, and butted up against the fireplace. That simply wasn't going to happen.
"Since there is a problem," he said in low tones that almost sounded threatening if I decided to take it in just the right context, "and since we don't have time to discuss it, I'm going to put you somewhere you won't cause trouble. And you will wait there. And you will be quiet."
I wasn't sure I liked where this was heading. I inched along the fireplace, back tight against the stones, making for the door. "I'll just come back tomorrow."
He grabbed my elbow as I tried to push past him. "Like hell you will." He gave me a shake much the same as a parent would a child. My teeth clacked together once and then came down hard on the edge of my tongue. I yelped and my hand shot to my mouth in reflex.
I tasted blood.
Before I realized what was happening, I was yanked hard against his chest, the palm of his hand pressing in against the small of my back, forcing me to arch upward. His chest felt as movable as the fireplace might be, and while I expected him to be cold, he radiated heat as though he burned from the inside. It enveloped me so completely I was shocked into yielding. His invasion of my mouth was so complete and aggressive it forced a gasp of surprise from me. He drew hard, his tongue swirling around the inside of my cheeks until I imagined the only thing holding me up on my feet was the suction he had on me. I felt him shudder against my torso, all the way through me. I thought I heard him moan.
And then, just like that, he released me.
"I never cared for chianti," he grumbled as he pulled away, his fingers probing the neck line of my shirt. I had the irrational thought that he was going to strip me right then and there. He hooked his finger beneath the material of my shirt, and I felt something pull tautly against my throat. The silver chain. He scooped it away from my neck using the material of my shirt as a buffer between the chain and his skin.
He glared down at it from above me.
"Why the hell are you wearing this if you're not going to use it?"
I started to stutter out an excuse, but he cut me short by lifting me just beneath my buttocks and throwing me over his shoulder.
"Forget it," he said. "We don't have time. He'll be here any second."
"He, who?" I said against his back, trying to clamber down from his broad shoulder and ending up twisting about like a gnarled up rubber hose.
"Gio, you stupid wench."
I fought him in earnest at the impatient way he said it. I yelled and punched and kicked all while he nonchalantly strode away from the fireplace toward some part of the mansion I'd not seen. A dungeon, perhaps, some rusted out cage where he could drink his fill when he wanted, offer me up to another vampire? Human trafficking on an entirely different level than the world had yet to define. I had just managed to plow him in the left kidney, eliciting a satisfying grunt and a near stumble when I heard a shout come from the foyer. It was then that I realized we weren't alone and that Magnus's reaction to my kidney punch had really been a reaction to something else. Something equally as physical. I was dropped without compunction onto the floor, rolling my ankle in the process of trying to spring to my feet.
Seized by pain splintering its way up my shin, and a wave of dizziness, I did my best to make out the blur of motion that confronted me as I sprinted toward the door.
Not Gio at all. Several men and one incredibly beautiful russet-haired woman who must herself have been some sort of Viking warrior in a past life. They fanned out in a Roman-esque formation. I imagined warriors of Sparta being no less impressive.
"Fuck," Magnus said.
"Don't they have to be invited in?" I said, my mind reeling through old vampire legends. He threw me a disgusted look.
"They're human. And that's an old wives tale."
"Oh," I said, relieved. The relief abandoned me when the woman charged.
She headed straight for Magnus with a fluidity that made me doubt she was human at all. She twirled what I could only describe as a Russian scythe and yet it looked distinctly more primitive and way more pointy. It could have come straight from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer; I would have laughed except one of her male cronies took for me with a vengeance even as the others surrounded Magnus. I'd thrown down a few times in my day, but not against Van Helsing and his merry band of ass-kickers. I scrabbled backward with all the grace of a crab, losing sight of, and interest in, Magnus and his mess. All I knew was my opponent had murder in his mind and blood in his gaze and I was still struggling to move up a pint. Mashing his potatoes just wasn't going to be a possibility.
He leveled a pistol at me.
"What the fuck," I complained. "Magnus gets a farm tool and I get a gun?"
"Hunga Munga," he said, lifting the barrel so it aimed at my forehead.
"Heeby Jeebies, you bastard," I yelled and dove for his ankles. It was a sloppy maneuver at best and I skidded into his feet. I wasn't sure if he fired the gun from surprise or if I'd truly beaten the bullet, but I wasn't taking the time to find out. I bit him square on the ankle. The report of the gun shocked me from his leg and made me wince hard enough that I bit my tongue for the second time.
"Fuck," I said.
I had enough time to wipe my mouth against his trousers before I ended up climbing his leg as I tried to stand. He tried to kick me off, until someone--I'd guess merry ass-kicker number two--cracked me in the ribs with a hefty combat boot. All my air evacuated. I collapsed onto the tiles in a ball. Another report rent the air. This time, I was sure I'd been hit. I even felt a heavy thud slam into my shoulder.
I rolled over to my side, panting for breath. It took me several long moments to register what was happening. We were winning. Impossible as it was, with the she-bitch rolling and leaping, and twirling always just out of Magnus's reach, he had evidently taken the time to kick me out of the way so he could tear through my opponent. The gunslinger lay next to me, his heart showing through its pulled-open chest cavity. I watched the muscle pulse and found myself wondering where his ribs were. I dry-heaved, trying to tear my gaze away from the grisly, glistening mess and saw Magnus in full Viking fury. He smiled down at me briefly, and I dimly noted his mouth was full of blood. His clothes were covered in it.
Two men lay just past him, their throats torn open and pumping the last of their life's fluid onto the floor.
One of the remaining three men advanced on him, less sure than before, I thought, but the woman hadn't seemed to lose one ounce of confidence. She spun backward, kicking out in a floor sweep that took Magnus's feet out from beneath him. The man rushed. She rushed.
But Magnus didn't land where they expected. Somehow he had managed to fling himself so that now he was behind them. They were, for one blissfully ignorant moment, oblivious to the hell that was about to rain upon them from behind.
A thought crept its way into my consciousness, then. They were human. I was human. Magnus was a vampire.
I remembered how it felt to be enthralled by Gio, to have no control over my own body but the control that he wanted.
I remembered how it felt to be drained.
Then I remembered the gun.
I scrabbled for it, slipping through the greas
e of the fluid on the floor that pooled around the man who had aimed the pistol at me just moments earlier. I pulled it from his hand and flipped over, using his body to prop me up as I lifted it, muzzle pointing forward, just as Magnus lifted one of the men over his head and heaved him at the woman. She fell backward, slipping on a pool of blood and collapsing with her comrade on top of her.
At that moment, I heard a click behind my ear. At first, I thought perhaps I had pulled the trigger and let go on an empty chamber. Magnus must've heard the click at the same moment, because just as I felt the cold steel behind my ear, rustling my hair, he flew toward me. The feeling of hard iron disappeared from my skull. Seconds later, I felt splashed in hot gel, and my assailant fell to his knees and then slumped on his side.
Chapter Eleven
WILD FLOWER
It's weird the thoughts that invade your mind when you're under great stress. All I could register was the very sharp thought that if I puked right then, I'd lose the last bit of chocolate I'd ever taste, and that that last bit of chocolate would be a sour, half digested mush. My skin went electric with rage.
I let loose such a yell it set my vocal cords afire. I charged the woman who had regained her feet and was even then advancing on the two of us. I gave my fury full reign of my body, abandoning any sense of humanity. I would shove that weapon of hers so far up her Vajajay, she'd birth iron ore. I'd tear her eyes from her sockets and play marbles with them. I'd sink my teeth into her cheek and chew it like it was my last meal.
Except I couldn't move.
Magnus had me by the waist in a grip that might as well have me tied to the trunk of a tree. He pinioned me against his side.