"Of course. I have arranged for a meeting with a fence in two hours. I can go to Mr. Race's house first, then meet the fence."
"A fence!" I stared at Clare.
"Yes. Raul the fence. He wouldn't talk to me on the phone, so I am going to meet him later tonight—"
"How on earth does an underwear-modeling faery know a fence?"
Clare gave me a wounded look. "I do wish you would stop being so silly about that faery business. And as for Raul, I met him at a party. He is a very nice man for a criminal."
Now, how on earth was I supposed to reason with that sort of an attitude? I didn't even try.
"Be careful, no matter how nice a criminal he is. I'll call you in a bit, after I check out Paen. Er.. check out Paen's house. It shouldn't take long, so hopefully I will be back in time to help you with your fence guy."
"All right," she said, her eyes worried. As I started to leave she tugged on my arm, saying in her soft, sweet voice, "Sam, I'm not sure you going to this man's home by yourself is a smart idea. He's a vampire! He's powerful! He could do any number of wicked things to you, and you wouldn't have any way of stopping him!"
I sighed as I looked at the dark figure waiting for me in the hallway. "Yeah, I know. Makes me goose bumpily all over just imagining what sorts of wicked things he could do, too. Especially with those delectable lips."
"Sam—"
"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Unless I get lucky and Paen tries to seduce me over to the dark side."
"Sam!"
I laughed and patted her arm as I passed. "Stop making that scandalized face, I'm just teasing you. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing ever happens to me, remember?"
I really hate it when my own words come back to haunt me.
Chapter 3
"So, you're Scottish," I said by way of making polite (if inane) conversation as Paen drove us to his home.
"Yes, I am."
"A Scottish vampire… er… Dark One."
"Yes." He kept his eyes on the road as we drove into the darkness. Night had fallen fully, the air thick with the promise of more rain, the stars and moon obscured by the usual soggy clouds that I'd seen hang over Edinburgh for much of the two years I'd lived there.
"Is that unusual? I mean, I always imagined you guys were from Eastern Europe. Romania, or somewhere like that. Or is that just legend?"
His silver eyes flashed my way for a moment. "The origins of the Dark Ones are lost to us, but much of our heritage goes back to the Moravian Highlands in what's now the Czech Republic."
"Huh. Interesting." I looked outside at the black nothingness that whizzed by us as he drove beyond the suburbs of Edinburgh into the lowlands, quickly heading into the windswept hills of East Lothian on a long, empty road. "I'm Canadian. And American. Both. My dad is from the US, but my mother is Canadian, and I grew up there. I've got a dual citizenship thing going, in case you were wondering. That's how I was able to open up a business here."
He said nothing. I took that to mean he wasn't wondering about the ins and outs of my heritage.
"Did I thank you for giving me a ride to your house? Clare has a car, but she tends to start writing poetry to the stars or a flower and doesn't pay much attention to actually driving, so I really do appreciate you giving me a lift."
"Yes, you thanked me."
"Good." Silence fell between us—not a companionable, comfortable silence, but one that was fairly awkward and weighty. It itched along my skin like raw wool. "Finn was nice. Are you sure he won't mind being left in Edinburgh? I hated to rush you into leaving, but I wanted to see the house before deep night was upon us."
"No, he won't mind."
"OK." More silence. I surreptitiously picked at a fingernail for a moment, wondering why I could be silent with so many other people without feeling anything, but was bothered by Paen's silence. I mused on that for a few minutes, then decided I'd put the question to the man who sat so close to me that his hand brushed my leg every time he shifted gears (something I was very well aware of). "Paen—"
His shoulder twitched.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you by using your first name. I realize that's rather unprofessional of me, but it kind of slipped out."
"I don't mind if you call me Paen," he said, rather gruffly, I thought.
"Oh. Good. I'm Sam, by the way. Do you dislike talking to me?"
That got me a startled glance. "Pardon?"
"I wondered if you disliked talking to me. Especially since you were doing that whole non-verbal talking-into-my-head thing earlier."
Thank heavens for seat belts, that's all I can say. The belt kept me from bashing my brains out on the windshield when Paen slammed the brakes on, sending the car into a little spin in the (thankfully empty) rain-slickened road.
"Are you all right?" he asked once the car came to a stop, flipping on the overhead light so he could peer anxiously at me.
"I think so." I sat back and rubbed a spot on my neck where the seat belt had burned it. "I'm just a little shaky. Nothing like pulling a one-eighty to get your adrenaline flowing, eh?"
He didn't answer, just opened the car door and got out to look at the front of the car. I sat for a minute, figuring he was just checking on the car, but when he started walking away from me, I got out.
"Is the car OK?"
"Yes. I'm looking for the demon," he said, peering into the night. "Damn. I wish I'd thought to bring a torch."
"Demon? What demon?" I hurried over to where he stood, the car's rear lights our only illumination.
"The one that I almost hit when it jumped out in front of me. At least I assume it was a demon—it rose up from the ground, and there are few beings but demons which will do that." He frowned at me. "Do you have much experience with them?"
"Demons? No, not a lot," I answered, thinking about the one who had given me the bird statue. "All I really know about them is that they're bad news, and they have a nasty-smelling smoke."
"Exactly," he said, lifting his head.
I sniffed along with him, the faintest hint of a smoky stench reaching my nose. "That does smell like a demon. That or really bad fertilizer. But why would one jump out in front of us?"
"A good question, but one I can't answer right now," he said, giving me a gentle push toward the car.
I reentered the car, belting myself in, pulling down a small mirror to look at my neck.
"You're hurt," Paen said as he buckled up, leaning close to me in order to eye the spot on my neck that stung. That's what my mind said, anyway. My body didn't care why he was close; it just wanted him closer.
"Not really. It's just a little abrasion. All in a day's work," I quipped, suddenly overwhelmed by his nearness. His aftershave, a citrusy scent that mingled with something that was much earthier, much more male, and 100 percent pure pheromone as far as I was concerned, curled around me. I breathed it in again, my breath coming in short, shallow little bursts. Shivers skittered down my back while goose bumps broke out on my arms. I'd never had this sort of a reaction to anyone before, and I wasn't quite sure if I was comfortable with such an overpowering reaction. I tried to analyze just what it was about him that held such an attraction for me, and ended up putting it down to the fact that he was different from everyone I'd met before. Paen was missing something; he had a great need in him that I could feel even when I wasn't near him. That need called to me.
His eyes lifted from the spot on my neck to mine, two brilliant points of silver light in the dark, and I was suddenly reminded that needy and attractive as he was, I was trapped in a confined space in the middle of nowhere with a man who had no soul, a man for whom the word dinner meant who, not what.
"You're not going to bite me, are you?" I asked on a breath, my heart beating madly from the combination of adrenaline and Paen.
"Do you want me to?" His voice made me shiver again, the sound of it like the touch of raw silk on my bare flesh. In the blackness of the car, his eyes shone like the purest mercury.
&
nbsp; "Part of me does," I answered. "Part of me wants to…"
"What?" he asked, his head moving closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, just above the spot the seat belt had scraped.
"Bite you back."
His head tilted slightly as he considered me. "How would you bite me?"
"How as in how, or how as in give you a demonstration?"
His eyes glittered.
"Demonstrate how you would like to bite me."
I swear, looking into those eyes was like falling into a pool of quicksilver. They seemed to mesmerize me, pull me in and consume me. Without thinking of the wisdom (or lack) of making out with a client, I tipped my head slightly to the side and nuzzled a spot behind his ear, where the tendons of his neck met his jaw. All reason, all common sense, all thought but that of the man whose presence drew me disappeared as I licked a spot, then gently bit it.
Paen sucked in air, shuddering slightly as I nibbled the spot behind his ear, swirling my tongue over it once more before withdrawing.
"That is how I would like to bite you. Well, just one of the ways."
He didn't move, didn't pull back in disgust or triumph, either of which I half expected.
"You are a very honest woman," he said after a moment's silence.
I frowned. That wasn't quite the response I had imagined to my nibbles. "Yes. Half elf, remember? It pretty much makes it impossible to lie, what with that whole elves-can't-dissemble thing happening. Plus I've found it's just easier all around to tell the truth. Did you like it?"
"Yes." Too much.
I smiled.
"Would you like me to reciprocate?" he asked, his breath hot on my skin. I shivered again, a delicious shiver of anticipation and excitement and arousal. Beneath that, a deep, endless need of my own burst into life, consuming me with its power.
"You know, I think I would."
Heat flared along my neck as his tongue swept across the spot that had been scraped. Pleasure of a nature more profound than just sexual burst into being within me, setting my whole body trembling as his tongue caressed the sore spot, taking with it all the pain and discomfort, and leaving me strung tighter than a concert violin.
"You're hungry," I said suddenly, wondering how I knew.
"I am." His teeth nipped my skin.
"Then go ahead." I waited, my body clenched hard.
"I don't normally—" He stopped, hesitating.
"Don't what? Drink blood?"
"No, I must drink blood to feed." Paen's eyes had darkened until they were the color of clouds over the moon. "I don't normally feed from women I respect."
His words touched me in an oddly endearing way. "Are you saying you like me?" I asked, wondering why it meant so much that he did.
"Yes," he answered, his breath hot on my neck.
"Good. I like you, too."
"It is for that reason that I hesitate," he said, his lips caressing the skin on my neck. I melted. "But if you're sure—"
"I'm sure," I said, pressing myself against his mouth.
"I won't take anything you don't want to give," he reassured, his tongue flicking across my pulse point.
"Dinner's on," I said, my head lolling back as his tongue swept across my skin once again, sending ripples of excitement through me. Pain, red and hot and deep, flared from my neck for a second before it dissolved into a pleasure that seemed almost obscene in its quality. I twisted slightly so I could clutch Paen's head, my fingers tangling into his curls as he drank from me.
"Dear god, don't stop," I gasped, my body seemingly one gigantic erogenous zone as he took life from me.
I won't. I can't.
A familiar rush of lightness raced through me. I struggled against it, clutching Paen's head even harder as my mother's blood kicked in and sent my consciousness flying out of my body.
"No, dammit!" I yelled silently as my ethereal being floated out of the car, Paen's head bent over mine the last thing I saw before I was caught on an astral wind and whipped away from the car. "Dammit, this isn't fair! Why can't I stay? Nooo!"
I drifted down the road, past houses, up over trees, gaining speed as the wind carried me farther and farther away from my body. There was no moon, so I couldn't see where I was going, but as I was whipped along over fields, housing tracts, and stretches of untouched land, I had a feeling I was heading to somewhere specific.
I've found that time passes differently when you're an astral projection. Either it seems telescoped, running so slow a second seems to take minutes, or it's speeded up like a movie being fast-forwarded. In the time it took me to swear silently (in my astral form, I couldn't speak aloud), I found myself zooming up to a looming black structure, a castle, an ebony mass silhouetted against a midnight sky. Before I could blink, I was whisked through the castle, down stairs, and suddenly plunked down in a rectangular room lined with bookcases. At one end of the room sat a large desk, a man seated behind it, shadowed by the light that illuminated only one corner of the desk. He shuffled through papers, and occasionally peered at a computer monitor as he tapped a couple of keys. He looked vaguely familiar. For a moment, I couldn't place him, but in a flash of memory I realized he was the man who had been arguing with the antique shop owner.
"Huh. I wonder what I'm doing seeing him? It's certainly not the man I'd like to be looking at right this moment."
Although the words I had spoken didn't make a sound, the man's head snapped up just as if he had heard them. He half stood while scanning the room, evidently startled by my interruption, but I knew that wasn't at all possible. My astral form was soundless and invisible. In reality, I wasn't really there, so how could he see or hear me?
"Uh… hello? Can you hear—whoa! Where did you come from?"
The small monkey named Beppo—at least, I assumed it was the same monkey; I couldn't get close enough to see if he wore the same leather collar—raced across the room and jumped onto the desk. The man had been in the process of sitting back down, but he shot up again at my words, his head turning back and forth as he scanned the room. A chill rippled through me as his gaze approached me. I was suddenly very, very afraid, and wanted nothing more than to be away from that room. There was an aura of something powerful around him, as if he suddenly presented a threat. I tried to tell myself that I was being ridiculous, that there was nothing anyone could do to me in astral form, but my brain didn't want to listen.
I froze when the man's eyes met mine, holding my breath as if that would make my invisible self even more invisible. He held out his arm for the monkey, going still when Beppo scrambled up to his shoulder.
Then he smiled at me. Slowly. With so much menace that a scream built up inside me. Just as it was about to burst from my formless lips, a voice in the distance called my name.
"Samantha!"
The man snarled something and lunged toward me, but my ethereal body was yanked out of the room, whisked back toward the voice that so imperiously demanded my attention. "Samantha, you will answer me!"
The trip back to my body was conducted much more quickly than the journey out—the world seemed to shimmer and blur, shaking itself for a moment, then suddenly I was sitting in Paen's car, my neck tingling, my body tight and tense as if it had been on the verge of an orgasm.
"Welcome back," Paen said dryly.
"Hi," I said, touching my neck. There didn't seem to be any open wound, so I gathered he had some power to heal up any signs he had been dining at Cafe Sam. "Oh, thank you. Thank you so much."
"For what, boring you?" he asked, reversing the car, turning so we were headed back into the hills.
"Boring me? No, Paen…" I put my hand on his arm, slightly surprised to find that I was shaking from my encounter with the dark man. "I was thanking you for pulling me back. I… there was someone I would not care to meet again, and you anchored me when I needed it, so thank you. But I wasn't bored with you—it's not that at all. It's just… I have… oh, it's a little difficult to explain."
"Is it?"<
br />
I sighed, rubbing the chill from my arms. Just being near Paen seemed to drive away the nightmarish quality of my out-of-body experience. "The truth is that it's all my mother's fault."
His jaw tightened as he drove. "Indeed."
"I didn't mean that it's her fault I'm here, and thus with you—I meant it's my mother's fault because she passed on a couple of elf traits to me. I was born with her pointy ears, elf-tipped eyes, talent for finding lost things, and a really warped version of her ability to do out-of-body trips. Unlike Mom's skill with astral projection, however, mine only hits whenever I'm sexually aroused."
He looked at me in patent disbelief. "You what?"
I nodded, then pointed to the road. He turned back to it, but glanced curiously from the corner of his eye a couple of times. "Whenever I get aroused, my body and consciousness part ways, and I go drifting off while it has all the fun. I can't begin to tell you how frustrating it is."
"I can imagine," he said dryly.
"Oh, you think you can, but I doubt it," I said mournfully. "It's awful, and there's nothing I can do about it. I've tried everything, too. Once I'm gone—pfft! I just have to wait it out. No one has ever called me back like you did. That was pretty amazing."
"Hmm." He didn't look like he disbelieved me, but he didn't look like he was buying everything I was saying, either.
"The worst is when I come back and find out that evidently I've been having wonderful sexual experiences, but wasn't there to enjoy them."
He shot me a curious glance. "Are you saying this happens every time you engage in sex?"
I nodded. "It doesn't even have to be sex. Just doing what we were doing is enough to send my brain into astral mode."
"So you've never actually… er… for lack of a better phrasing, been there for any of the times you've had sex?"
"No."
Even Vampires Get The Blues do-4 Page 5