Blood Dreams 03 Endless Night

by Mlyn Hurn

  Darien got to his feet, looking down at the petite, unconscious woman lying on his sofa. Taking the card, he held it for a moment, observing the design. “I like this design, Dargon. This black and white is simple, but tasteful. Why didn’t you get me something like this, Birdie?”

  “Dargon chose the color, Master. I told him you didn’t really like purple.”

  Darien paused for a moment, wondering how the hell he inherited these two incompetent servants from his father. Several times, he’d considered packaging them up and mailing them back to the castle. Let Simon deal with the headaches for a while. Sure, in the beginning, Dargon had seemed like a good idea. Pretty quickly, he realized why his father had moved the old wizard first to a third-floor room, and then to a shack far in the hills behind the castle.

  “The purple would have been fine,” Darien replied, looking from Birdie to the old man. “It was the raspberry pink print with the plaid drop shadow that I have an objection to.”

  Dargon, now sitting cross-legged on the narrow sofa back, defended himself. “The website had them on sale. You liked that pale pink tie I got for your birthday last year.”

  Darien nodded. “That was a subtle shade, and it looked quite good with the gray suit. Now, this card says she is Taryn Blue.”

  Birdie leaned way over, looking at the unconscious woman. “Pretty. Could I keep her?”

  Darien shook his head in disgust. “No, you can’t keep her like a pet. Now the rest of this card says… Vampire Hunter. Holy shit!”

  Darien’s shout upset Dargon and he fell backwards off the sofa. For a few seconds, only his curlicue purple slippers showed. Scrambling sounds heralded the old man’s crawling around the side of the sofa, his hat definitely askew, with a kink in it. He was already muttering as he stood once again. “Have to kill the hunter! But how do we get rid of the body? This is awful! It is terrible! Birdie! Look for big boxes to dispose of the body.”

  “No!” Birdie cried out, clearly distressed. “I could keep her. I’ll get a cage.”

  Darien smiled, pointing to the broken wand in the old wizard’s hand. “You’ll have to fix that before you go spell casting again.”

  “Damn! She’s bringing me bad luck already. Don’t you worry, Master, I’ll take care of her.”

  “Stop it, Dargon. I’m going to have to restrain her, until I can figure out why she is here. What did she say again, Birdie? Did she ask for me by name?” Darien put her card into his jeans pocket, and then bent to pick her up. Her small body seemed to weigh almost nothing. He turned to go into his bedroom, but stopped to look back towards Birdie. “Yo! Birdman! What did this sprite say before Dargon decked her?”

  “Are you sure that I can’t keep her?” Birdie walked behind Dargon, who was following Darien into his bedroom.

  “I’m positive none of us can keep her, no matter how much the two of you might want to.” Darien set her down gently on his bed. Removing her leather jacket, he pulled from beneath the bed a set of chains with the handcuffs attached, placing them around her wrists. Looking at her for a moment, he decided taking off her boots and placing the ankle cuffs might be a better idea. Moving to the foot of the bed, he started to tug off her knee-high boots.

  “I could do a spell and send her off in time or to another dimension. Or I could tie her up in my room. It’s been a really long time since you’ve let me keep—”

  “Stop right there, Dargon. If you want a pet, get a cat. NO!” Darien shouted as he realized what he’d said. “You cannot have anything as a pet, ever again, Dargon. What you think of proper pet care will get us reported to the ASPCA, again.” Frustration made his voice rise. He finished attaching the second ankle cuff. “Do you think I should have taken off her vest?”

  Birdie pushed the floating Dargon out of his way to get to the other side of the bed. “I’ll help.”

  Darien saw all four hands wiggling back and forth, eagerly reaching towards the woman. “No! I don’t need any extra hands, or help. Go back upstairs to the bar, Birdie. Hopefully she came here alone.”

  Birdie reluctantly left the room, sniffling loudly as he went.

  Dargon made a disgusted noise as he spoke. “Wimp! Now if I put some tape around the tip of my wand, I could probably whip up a time transference spell by morning. I bet I could have her in China by noon, Siberia by afternoon tea!”

  Darien sat on the padded stool at the foot of his bed. He had removed Taryn’s jacket and was folding it when a slip of paper fell out. Turning it over, he read the names silently. Immediately, he recognized the locations were all vampire and demon hangouts, all getting marginally worse in reputation as the list descended in order. But he didn’t see the name Dragon Pit anywhere on the short list. Obviously, this pint-size hunter was searching for her prey. He doubted her ability to survive a vampire attack.

  Standing, he moved back up the bed, unbuttoning the leather vest. Beneath it she wore a thin t-shirt. Darien paused to admire the firm, up-tilted bosom. Even though he wasn’t attracted to such things, he could still appreciate a well-sculpted human form. Detaching the chains and leaving her hands free, he removed the item, adding it to the pile of her boots and jacket.

  A noise at the doorway caught his attention.

  Dargon floated back into the room. He grinned and danced a jig of some sort, using his wand to create circles of golden starbursts. “I found a brand-new wand at the back of my closet. Now, we just need to decide where to send her.” Dargon sat cross-legged, but still floating, drifting towards the bed now. “I could send her back to the seventeen hundreds. She could meet the Count that way.”

  “Stop it, Dargon! She isn’t going anywhere. I’m just restraining her until I can discover why she came here. I don’t want some pint-size hunter trying to put a stake in my heart.” Darien paused to slide the cuffs at the foot of the bed, which attached to a wooden bar the width of the frame, closer together, to be more comfortable for the woman, should she try and move. She would be able to sit up, just not get off the bed.

  “It won’t be any trouble, Master.” Dargon floated closer to the woman.

  Darien turned, shaking his head. He did wonder if her visit here had anything to do with the frequent time travels he’d been doing the last few years. He doubted anyone had the ability to detect the rifts that occur during time or dimensional travel. Thanks to Dargon, he was becoming very adept at sliding in and out of the different times. Of course, each was carefully chosen for maximum absorption—

  “I just cut her hair, Master, and then I can—”

  “What the hell? Don’t tell me you actually cut off a piece of her hair?” Darien turned angrily, walking back towards the bed. He stopped abruptly when he saw the wizard had cut a length from the poor girl’s ponytail. At least, it wasn’t the whole damned thing! Great! “Damn it all, Dargon! Are you crazy? You can’t go around doing stuff like this!”

  Darien stared in disbelief at the way the cut hair fell forward onto her face. She could sue him that much was sure. All she needed was a good lawyer, and he could kiss this place goodbye. He glared at the magician. “Get the hell out of here, Dargon! Stay away from this woman, do you hear me?”

  Dargon shrank visibly, almost flying out of the room.

  Carefully, Darien rubbed his fingers around her skull, glad that he didn’t feel any new bumps, and the first one hadn’t gotten any bigger. Hopefully, when she’d hit the floor, she’d not damaged anything and her prolonged period of unconsciousness was due to Dargon’s spell and not the fall from the barstool. Finally, he pulled a blanket over her. He’d planned on sitting up to observe her until she awakened, but decided to lie down beside her since she was sleeping so soundly, and partially restrained. There were no stakes or hammers lying around, and he was dead tired. With the lights dimmed, she shouldn’t be frightened when she first awoke.

  It seemed like a good plan anyway—

  Chapter Nine

  “Oh, shit!”

  The moment she awakened, Taryn realized Bongo drums
were playing inside her head. Keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her hands and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Slowly, she became aware the lights were on in her bedroom, or she’d overslept her early alarm and it was daylight already.

  Logically, she assumed it was the first. Lately she was keeping the lights on to keep the earlier darkness at bay. Now, she wasn’t sure if it was day or night.

  “Damn! I have that early class.” She opened her eyelids a crack, barely letting in the light. Her fingers stopped abruptly as she realized this wasn’t her bedroom. As she glanced around, she felt a tightening of the muscles in her stomach even as her heart started tripping along at a faster pace. This bedroom was one she’d never seen before. “Oh, God!” she whispered softly, closing her eyes quickly.

  Where had she been last night? She’d been home, talking to Damon… then she’d decided to go out. That’s right! She’d recalled the name of a place at the bottom of Blue’s list, figuring Blue and Simon probably wouldn’t get to all the places on their list. Since there was the two of them, she assumed it would undoubtedly take them longer. She could just imagine Blue and Simon butting heads on information-gathering and interrogation techniques.

  Now was not the time to be thinking of others, she reminded herself. First, she needed to face her current dilemma, or catastrophe, if she wanted to see this as a glass half-full or empty.

  “Good morning.”

  Taryn’s heart caught in her chest. From beside her, a deep, husky voice sounded. It sounded familiar. Turning her head, she gasped as she saw Damon lying next to her on the large bed. The light was dim but it still allowed her to recognize him from his voice and appearance.

  Heaving a sigh of relief, she took a quick inventory.

  She was still dressed and her neck didn’t hurt. Whew! She started to move when she felt something around her ankles, and it restricted the movement of her legs. Quickly she sat up, tossing aside the blanket.

  “Damon! What’s the meaning of this? And what are you doing here?” Taryn stopped to take a closer look at her situation. “Wait… where am I? Take these things off me.”

  Damon moved off the bed, walking to her side. He turned the light switch to brighten the whole room.

  As he looked over his shoulder, Taryn felt a cold chill go through her. “You aren’t Damon, are you?”

  She watched as the attractive man straightened his clothing. Now that she saw him in the full light from the lamp, she could see definite differences. His skin was paler, and his features seemed more aesthetic. A moment passed before she realized that Damon resembled the general demeanor of the classic cowboy dressed for the cover of a gentleman’s magazine. This other man could easily find work as a haute couture model. Still, she was pretty sure this had to be his twin.

  “Hmm, so you know my brother, Ms. Blue. I do hope you haven’t staked him,” the man spoke softly.

  “Of course, I didn’t!”

  “I am guessing you know my brother rather well, considering how relaxed you appear to be waking up beside him in bed.” The man grinned.

  Taryn tried to get off the bed for the first time. Jerking on the restraints, she glared at her captor. “Release me, damn it!”

  “I will, as soon as I know you won’t break off a table leg and stake me.”

  Taryn glared at the man who so closely resembled the man who had captured her heart. She clutched the sheets at her sides. No way could she admit she cared so deeply for Damon… a vampire. She couldn’t! To allow herself to become involved with Damon would be a betrayal of her Aunt Lamenta.

  She took a deep breath. Something was trying to get her attention, she realized, but the detail was buried in her subconscious. It probably had something to do with this place. “How did I get here? I was in a bar… I remember giving my card—”

  “Master? There’s somebody upstairs asking about the girl.”

  Taryn and Damon’s brother both looked towards the voice. She saw the bizarre-looking bartender again and remembered giving her business card to him.

  “You! I gave you my card last night,” she accused, pointing her finger at him.

  The big bartender waddled into the bedroom, smiling. All four hands came out to wave at her. “Good morning, missy. Did you sleep good with my Master? He wouldn’t let me keep you. If you prefer, you could ask him to let you share my room. I have bunk beds.”

  “What?” Taryn jerked her head around to glare at the man. The movement allowed the cut strands of her ponytail to loosen completely, falling into her face. “Oh my God! What happened to my hair?”

  Darien cursed under his breath. Things were escalating out of control once again. “Birdie! Get back upstairs and give the visitor some tea. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  As soon as Birdie was gone, he looked at his captive. This whole situation was getting close to exploding beyond recovery. “I’ll explain everything as soon as I get back. I don’t mean you any harm, I promise you. It’s just that last evening… well, things went a little crazy. Just sit tight.”

  As he left, he pulled the bedroom door closed. He paused for a moment to consider finding Dargon and telling him to stay away from the girl. Then he decided that perhaps the old guy was still sleeping. No need to wake him up. At least if he was asleep, he couldn’t cause any more trouble.

  As Darien entered the bar from the back room, he immediately noticed the way his visitor’s blond hair was lit by the single ray of sunlight, which managed to sneak in past the heavy sunshade on the only window in the place. He avoided the sun at all times, still being sensitive to the degenerative rays. When he went outside in the daytime, he always used heavy protective clothing. Yet, the bright gold of this man’s hair was a lure to step into the danger.

  Rounding the bar, he stopped abruptly. As a gay vampire, he had seen and experienced a great deal over his years. Acceptance was something he had come to live without for himself, yet he gave it freely. He’d never had a long-term relationship and he had told himself that he was all right with that. There were lots of attractive gay men in the world, and he had experienced many “lust at first sight” brief affairs, always being safe.

  As he looked at the blond man’s hair, he felt that same jolt of recognition that had heralded other hot, torrid short relationships. In an instant, he was aware of the attraction as well as the opening up of himself for something to happen. He wasn’t stupid in his sex life, but he knew what he was feeling.

  He must have made a noise because the man’s head turned, and Darien found himself looking into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Damn! He thought as he crossed the room. This was no ordinary man… he was the blond Adonis from ancient mythology.

  A moment later, light glinted off bright metal. Darien felt as if he’d been struck a glancing blow from a well-aimed stake. The stranger, who should be running through sunlit meadows, was stuck in a damned wheelchair!

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Darien spoke carefully, keeping his voice even. “I’m the proprietor of this dump. Can I help you?”

  “Hello! I’m Jordan Dampier, and I’m looking for information.”

  Darien pulled out a chair across from Jordan’s, and sat. He called out to his bartender lurking behind the bar. “Bring more hot tea, Birdie! Not too many people brave my wheelchair ramp. I’ll get it repaired,” he promised without forethought.

  Jordan smiled. “This isn’t hot tea,” he told Darien. “It’s some kind of iced tea and I have to admit—it’s rather tasty.”

  Darien looked from the tall glass the blond god held and over at Birdie. “Damn it all, Birdie! Not Long Island Iced Tea! Geez… sorry, but my bartender has a little trouble following directions. That’s an alcoholic beverage and you probably shouldn’t be drinking.” Darien reached for the glass but Jordan moved faster, pulling it towards himself.

  “One drink once in a while can’t hurt. I hadn’t anticipated drinking this early, but perhaps you’d join me?”

  “Sure, but I don’t drink this early in
the day normally. Okay, Birdie, you are off the hook. Make one for me too, please!”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Darien looked back at the other man as Birdie spoke and he saw the surprise in his eyes.

  “Master? That is an unusual term to hear these days, especially in the United States.”

  Darien shrugged, hoping he looked nonchalant. The last thing he wanted was to scare the man before he had a chance to know him… perhaps test the waters for something more? “He’s from the old country,” he replied carefully, keeping his voice calm. “He is used to the old ways and habits.”

  Birdie waddled over a few seconds later with Darien’s drink in his right hand, wiping the table off using a cloth held by the hand snaking out from under his shirt. “Anything else, Master? I’d be happy to go downstairs to take care of things. Uhm, you know, just feel my way around and see if something needs my attention.”

  Darien sharply shook his head, picking up his drink. “There is nothing down there that needs taking care of, Birdie.”

  Birdie duplicated his action, except his floppy ears started shaking as well. “Oh, I’m sure I know what to play with downstairs, Master. I could even clean up a little.” Birdie brought all four hands out to demonstrate his usefulness.

  “Nothing downstairs needs occupying or cleaning Birdie.” Darien stopped as he realized his voice was getting more tense and strident. The last thing he needed to deal with was Birdie’s usual stubborn nature.

  “It’s not fair—” Birdie protested.

  “Enough Birdie!” Darien cut him off abruptly, gesturing with his hand. “Just stay behind the bar. Meditate.”

  As Birdie shuffled away, Darien was sure he heard Jordan chuckle. It did sound pretty silly, he thought, imagining the big, floppy-eared, four-armed, pear-shaped demon trying to get into some kind of meditating position. Sipping the drink, he looked back at Jordan. Damn! The young man was just as beautiful as he’d first thought. Surely, there was a law, or rule, in the homosexual handbook that said in cases like this you could turn off the attraction? The last thing he needed in his life, Darien acknowledged silently, was to fall for a handicapped man, who might not even be gay.