“And let’s assume the antidote works to some extent, how are we hiding all these saved revenants? How are we explaining what happened to them and how they came to be in the situation? What if they are not fit to return to society at all?”
She looked around the room, waiting for anyone to comment, but the room of mostly men, save for Aurelia, Lawrie, and Alice, Hunter’s partner and mate, remained silent.
“Further, it’s quite possible that once Raymond Tyrone realizes we’ve created an antidote he may work faster, pushing his numbers higher until he’s found a way to infect all of Central City and beyond. Then what do we do?”
“Are you saying to let these people die rather than try to save them?” Lawrie asked.
“No. I think we should kill those infected as fast as we can.” Selene stared at Lawrie, unblinking and expressionless.
“What? That’s not the answer. That’s, that’s rotten.” Lawrie jumped up from her chair. “I’d say that’s equally as evil as Raymond’s experiments.”
“No, it’s not. It may sound cruel, but it’s the best choice. Based on what your slides display and what we’ve already seen of these revenants, odds are none of those infected can be saved.” Selene’s head tilted to the right as it always did when she was calculating some number. The slight tilt made the glow from the overhead light play with red highlights in her hair, which in turn made Oz want to feel the silky softness slide through his fingers.
“Terminating them puts these poor people, who will never be the same as they were when human, out of their misery as fast as possible. You, yourself have admitted on at least three different occasions you highly doubted the practicality of turning these revenants back into what they once were. Why make them suffer? For science?” Selene’s back stiffened, and Oz could easily predict that next her chin would rise and her shoulders would pull back.
If he ever had the chance, he’d make damn sure to teach her about predictability and telltale signs. She was so damn readable, even a blind, deaf vampire with no sense of smell would be able to tell she was ramping up to a lofty, soapbox-standing, ranting chastisement. He could hardly wait.
Her lips pulled to a straight line. Her nostrils flared and one eye, the left one, as always, narrowed.
Lawrie said nothing. Impressively, she managed not to attempt to argue. Instead, she slumped down into her chair with an audible and clearly resigned sigh.
“Do we try some experiment on them in hopes it will lead to a cure for vampirism? Is that the true goal behind this?” Selene pointed toward the screen where the last slide of manipulated vampire cells was barely visible in the lights.
The room fell dead silent. Everyone knew one of Serge’s goals for hundreds of years had been to try to find a cure for the vampire condition.
“I ask you all to look within your hearts and search for the reason you are doing this. Are you doing it for yourself or for these poor victims? Are you doing it for your own hopes of being human again? Is it worth it? What will change in your life if you become human again? Will you be better men?” She closed her eyes for a blink, then looked at Aurelia. “Or a woman?”
Along with every other vampire Oz sat quietly contemplating the question. What would change? Was there anything about his current situation he didn’t enjoy? Not really. He was accustomed to a liquid diet, and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the hunt or the skill of making it worth his prey’s while. For the most part he had to admit being basically invincible had serious advantages.
His attention was drawn to the table where Joao sat, staring into the crowd. Oz followed his gaze to Aurelia, his beloved daughter. An ache Oz had managed to keep locked away for hundreds of years throbbed.
Still after all these years, in spite of time and experience, heartbreak could not be forgotten. Nothing ever erased the memory of family or the loss of love. No one ever escaped the reality of outliving every single person you knew and loved. He’d miss them until he died. The pain of losing them would stay with him for eternity.
The silence in the room extended and the unsettled vibes of several vampires now questioned by one brave human chilled the air. As Lawrie, Alice, and Joao breathed, little puffs of air swirled before their faces.
With so many people staring at her, Oz could only imagine the weight Selene must have felt.
She sidestepped from her seat toward the door.
“Why do you have to change? Aren’t you good enough as you are? Or is what you’ve been given not good enough?” With that last question she slipped out of the meeting, leaving them to sit silently pondering their own existences.
HER VAMPIRE PROTECTOR
CHAPTER FOUR
Selene rushed down the hall, past all the interrogation rooms, the gym, the corridor that led to the homes of several members of The Guard straight to the cafeteria, not stopping until she caught site of the foolish sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway.
“What was I thinking?” She leapt upward, catching the lowest hanging leaf of the mistletoe and yanked it down, hurling it into the nearby trashcan.
She knew exactly what she was thinking, and the very thing she’d hoped for happened. Except it wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined it. In her little fantasy he pulled her into his embrace, kissed her with such passion that she swooned like all the other girls did in his arms, only she would be the only girl he ever held in those perfectly sculpted arms.
Lifting her open palm to her nose she sniffed the scent of Oswald’s cologne, breathing in the scents of lemon and bergamot and hints of orange and jasmine. The sound of her own sigh brought her back to the moment, and she realized she was standing in the cafeteria smelling her hand with her eyes closed.
“Good God. Get a grip.”
Thinking Oswald Addison could ever simply have one girl was nearly as dumb as asking a group of vampires if they were actually being selfish about wanting to be human.
“I’m going to need a guard to guard me from the guard.” She inwardly laughed, feeling her throat tighten. “It’s really not funny.”
Coming up the corridor mumbled voices and footsteps echoed. A twinge of panic gripped Selene. “Why is the meeting already over?” She glanced over her shoulder, knowing damn well one of her pompous, accusatory, overly bold spiels had yet again ended a meeting early.
In hopes of avoiding everyone she darted into the kitchen to hide.
“Hi Kit!” Brown-Eyed Susan and Judy Blue Eyes called, looking up from the tray of partially frosted and decorated cupcakes.
“Cupcake?” Judy offered.
They sure made the best chocolate fudge-filled cakes. But now was not the time to stop for a treat.
“Hi, and no, thank you though. I just need a place to hide for a few minutes.” She raced toward the one hiding place no one had found—the walk-in fridge.
“Offered your opinion again, did ya?”
“Yeah.” She pulled the door open to see a side of beef hanging only a few feet inside. “Ick.”
“Ya probably shouldn’t do that anymore.”
“Thanks for the advice. Now don’t mention this to anyone. Please?” She held onto the door, waiting for them to agree.
“Of course not,” Judy said, elbowing Susan.
“Mums the word.” Susan pinched her lips between gloved fingers, leaving a dollop of chocolate frosting on both her top and bottom lips.
“Great. Thanks.” Selene pulled the door shut and waited in the dimly lit soundproof room.
Fifteen minutes passed before her toes and fingers hurt, which left her surprised, pleased, and irritated all at the same time. Apparently repeatedly spending time in a walk-in cooler allowed one to build up immunity to the frigid cold. “I’m spending far too much time in this place.”
Hugging herself tight, she rubbed her arms and circled the beef hanging in the center of the giant fridge.
And just why was this happening so often? The vampires hired her to work here. Didn’t they want her opinion? Hadn’t Serge
welcomed her to the briefings? Wasn’t he the one who said it was important for everyone to be aware of what was happening and that turning over ideas, hearing concerns, debating strategies always helped to come to the best resolution?
Of course he did. “So why am I hiding in a damn fridge?” She brought her freezing hands to her mouth to blow a warm breath into them, which in turn sent a whiff of Ozzy’s cologne swirling.
With no other prompting Selene’s mind jumped to the mistletoe, then to the kiss. All at once everything about that kiss registered. It had only lasted a few brief, briefer than brief seconds. But still Selene remembered two large hands gripping her hips from behind and spinning her around, the wave of fright that she was about to topple off the step stool, and then the excited pleasure of seeing Ozzy’s face.
His deep green eyes weren’t hidden by those damn sunglasses he always wore. Oh, he had them on, but they were pulled down nearly to the end of his long thin nose, and he peered over them, looking at her as if she was the most thrillingly intoxicating treat he’d ever seen.
Tonight his cheeks were shaved smooth, which was not surprising. It was Tuesday, and on Tuesday’s Ozzy shaved. Tuesday and Friday. Those were the only two days he shaved.
“I don’t know why I know that fact, but…” She stopped herself from lying out loud to the side of beef, which she had for some unknown reason begun leaning on. “Sorry.” She stepped away from the cow and reminded herself she was talking to a deader than dead bovine.
With a sigh her mind drifted back to the moment Ozzy pulled her down and the way her body pressed against his, held firmly in his muscular arms. The way her hands, landing on his shoulders, felt each movement of the powerful muscles.
The feel of their bodies so close, closer than they’d ever been before was better than she’d imagined. For that short moment she felt completely safe, as if in that spot was exactly where she was supposed to be. Forever.
His lips grazed hers, softly at first, and then more firmly, demanding she respond. And respond she did, parting her lips and letting his tongue swipe between them.
If Garrison hadn’t whistled, and the flash of his phone hadn’t drawn her attention, God only knew what she would have done.
No, God wasn’t the only one who knew. She knew, just as well. She’d have kissed him hard and long and run her hands through his short dark hair mussing up the always perfect crop. She’d have left him with a memory he’d never forget, maybe even left him begging for more.
But as it was Garrison arrived, taking pictures as usual. Which meant there was evidence of the encounter. Evidence that she was certain would humiliate her, and if she ever saw the evidence, or heaven forbid, got her hands on her own personal copy of said evidence, she’d more than likely end up in some addicts’ recovery circle, clutching the picture like a lovesick junkie.
The truth of the matter was that Oswald Addison was deliciously, sinfully, exotic. He was larger than life. He was a hound, a moral-less hound who loved women, all women, even Brown-Eyed Susan and Judy Blue Eyes. In fact, Selene wouldn’t have been surprised to open the door and find him licking that frosting off Judy’s face.
Oswald was a sex fiend. This was, of course, common knowledge. Everyone knew. Just like everyone knew his shaving habits. Everyone knew. Everyone with a vagina who wasn’t already completely and utterly in love with some other vampire in this damn base knew.
Selene suspected that even those women knew. “How could they not? It was impossible not to notice. He’s scruffy and then scruffier, and still the scruffiest, and then he’s not. Then he’s smooth.” She tapped her fingers, then glanced up to find her hand resting on the cow’s hip right over the giant Grade A circle. “Gross.”
But still, for those few seconds she thought maybe she could…well, actually, it appeared for that ever so short period of time that Oswald had an interest in her that was not his usual “I’ll fuck anything that walks” interest.
She’d seen him look at other girls over his glasses, and in fact, he’d looked at her several times before with those dark shades positioned as they were, but never had she seen that look, that power, that pull in his eyes before.
“That must be what he does to the women he…snacks on,” she mumbled through twisted lips.
There were facts that should have been faced. Oswald Addison was a womanizing vampire. Handsome. Very handsome. And charming. Charming with a capital C. In all honesty the entire word should be capitalized when using it to describe Ozzy, but that was not important.
“I will not be one of his, his…” Selene waved her hand in the air. “One of those women. Absolutely not. I’m a wonderful catch and I deserve a dedicated, loving, honorable…hmm…well, he is honorable.”
There was no denying that. He stuck to his word, was always there for The Guard, Central City, or for anyone who fell within his circle.
“Okay, so he’s honorable. The point, Selene, is that you, we, I deserve a monogamous man who is not going to chase after every girl he sees.” She poked her finger to drive the point home and chipped the polish off her perfectly polished nail, leaving a fleck of red sparkles on the side of beef.
“And why in God’s name am I talking to myself out loud about him?” She punched the beef. “He means nothing. We are not in the same league. An accountant and a vampire. Ridiculous.”
Giving the side of beef a couple good jabs with her right fist felt good. Well, not on her hands, but in her mind it felt perfect.
“Not that he has any interest in me or that I have any in him.”
Punch. Punch. Jab. She kicked off the high heels.
Jab. Jab. Hook.
Left. Left. Right.
For the next few minutes Selene danced around the side of beef, shuffling with the swinging slab, pounding her hands against the raw, freezing carcass, forgetting everything except the deep annoyance she felt with herself.
Why in the world did she have any interest in that damn vampire? She didn’t want to be anyone’s less than equally respected partner in any relationship. Fifty-fifty. Loving. Respectful. Devoted.
Yet, her mind focused on the look he gave her, the taste of his kiss, the perfection of his embrace.
“Grrr!” She snarled at herself for being such a fool. Massaging her hands she reminded herself that she was first, not Rocky Balboa, second, ladies did not cavort with men the likes of Oswald Addison, and lastly, ladies did not punch things.
That’s when the two-foot long salami caught her eye. “But we do play softball.” She picked up the salami, testing its weight and noticing how darn cold the tube felt in her frozen hands.
Stepping into the imaginary batter’s box, she rolled her shoulders, then her neck, and stared at the spot on the side of beef where she’d landed repeated punches.
“Why am I torturing myself?” Remembering how her father taught her, she aimed for the target and swung as hard as she could.
The door opened, triggering the bright overhead light.
“I’d like to know why you’re torturing that side of beef.”
Momentarily blinded, Selene closed her eyes against the glare, which in turn taught two people a very valuable lesson.
HER VAMPIRE PROTECTOR
CHAPTER FIVE
When Oz peeked around the swinging beef, a hard pole of cured meet landed perfectly against his ear.
“Ow!” He stumbled backward out of the fridge, cupping the side of his head. “What the hell was that for?” Blood trickled into his hands and down his arm.
“Ah, ah. Ahhhh.” Selene’s cries sounded as if they came from the other side of the world. Her voice was choked and echoed in the confines of the walk-in fridge.
“Ozzy!” Susan and Judy rushed forward, waving kitchen towels. “Poor baby.”
“I’m fine.” He did his best to untangle himself, but there was no use. The ladies descended on him like vultures on road kill. “Selene needs—”
“Allow me,” Serge said, stepping over his legs, which were no
w propped up on a sack of potatoes. “Selene?”
“I’m fine. I’m, I’m not fine. My hands are, they’re, Oswald’s stupid head did this.”
Serge stepped into the fridge. “Let me see.”
After several “ows” and “don’ts” and “why do my elbows hurt so damn muchs,” Serge managed to get her out of the fridge.
“I’m certain the shocks from the impact of that salami against the side of Oswald’s head will wear off in short order,” Serge said, pulling up a chair for Selene, who glared at Ozzy.
“What?” He peered around Judy’s plump face. “It’s not as though I did anything. You were the one swinging the cured meat bat at a side of beef.”
“Why is your head so damn hard? And, why was it in the way?” She straightened her arms as Serge applied warm compresses to her elbows.
“Isn’t the more appropriate question—why were you beating up a perfectly good side of beef?” Susan shot an annoyed look over her shoulder.
“Again,” Judy added.
“I certainly think that is the most appropriate question,” Ozzy said with a sigh of overly dramatized exhaustion.
Selene’s back straightened as she drew in a breath and turned her nose up at Oz for what Oz estimated to be the millionth time. “Well, I was simply passing time.” She looked at Serge, who permitted a slight grin to appear, then quickly vanish.
It confused Oz that she was always indignant about something. Always. She never seemed fully satisfied. Even when she was not annoyed she seemed slightly irritated.
Did she hate working with the vampires? He couldn’t tell. He’d have asked her, but asking was out of the question, given she rarely spoke to him and made it absolutely clear that without a doubt she never wanted to speak to him.
The fact that he’d managed to sneak a kiss today was a veritable miracle. Actually copping a feel in the supply closet and sneaking a kiss all in one day proved miracles really do happen and there probably was a God.
Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas Page 100