Vampires in America

by D. B. Reynolds

  The jerk must have known Mirabelle from somewhere else, maybe school, because there was nothing to distinguish her as a vampire tonight. It wasn’t like she was standing there with fangs dripping and speaking in a Transylvanian accent or anything. Actually, she looked really good. She’d put on about fifteen pounds since Cyn had rescued her from Jabril, and she’d needed the weight. Jabril had kept her on a starvation diet, part of his control over her. But now, she looked healthy and happy, her long hair returned to its natural blond color, courtesy of Cyn’s own stylist. It was nearly impossible for blondes to remain blond when there was no sunlight to be had. A vampire either colored her (or his) hair, or settled for a permanent dull brown.

  But even more than Mirabelle’s physical appearance, it was her attitude that made Cyn’s heart warm. Gone was the terrified little mouse that Jabril had created. That Mirabelle would have been shrinking in terror from her asshole accuser. This new Mirabelle was beautiful and confident, her eyes flashing, her smile wide as she politely responded to the jerk’s irrational rant.

  “Ms. Shinn and the others do no such thing,” Mirabelle said gently, her voice clear in the sudden silence surrounding her. “And, in your heart, you know that, don’t you? As for me, I’m here to support the wonderful work of Jessica’s House, just as we all are.”

  It all sounded quite straightforward, but Cyn caught the slight reddish gleam behind Mirabelle’s dark, blue eyes, heard the gentle rhythm of her words. In a flash, Cyn realized something. This was a test for Mirabelle. Raphael could have subdued the rude human without moving an inch or muttering a sound. Juro could have done so with a subtle word or two. But Raphael had clearly decided that they would wait and see if Mirabelle could handle it herself. The ability to manipulate humans in situations like this was a skill Mirabelle would need if she hoped to move up in the ranks of Raphael’s vampires. It had to be so subtle that no one, not even the human being manipulated, was aware.

  The idiot drew back with a sucked-in breath, and Cyn thought Mirabelle had failed, but then he raised his head and offered her his arm, with a murmured apology. Mirabelle looped hers through his. “Did you know my sister was saved by the team here?” she asked conversationally and steered her accoster deeper into the crowded yard with its cobweb-draped trees.

  Rude guy covered Mirabelle’s hand with his own and smiled as he said, “Is your sister as beautiful as you are?” The crowd, which had been holding its collective breath—mostly because they didn’t want to miss a word—blew out a sigh of relief, and, with a few mumbled comments, quickly returned to their pre-confrontation conversational hum.

  “Crisis averted,” Cyn whispered, touching her lips to Raphael’s jaw. “Yay for Mirabelle.”

  “She’s doing well,” Raphael agreed. “But then, you knew she would. It’s the reason you brought her to me in the first place.”

  “I brought her to you because she needed someone strong enough to protect her from that asshole Jabril,” Cyn corrected. “But . . . you’re right. The minute she agreed to climb into my truck, I knew she had a backbone.”

  He was silent a moment, surveying the crowd, then he said, “If I write a check, can we leave now?”

  “It’s not only about checks, fang boy. I’m part-owner. I have to show the flag.”

  “It’s a very big check.”

  Cyn laughed despite herself. The truth was, she didn’t think Luci would miss her. Cyn wasn’t any good at schmoozing, and, just passing through the crowd, they’d been here long enough to be seen by anyone who cared.

  “Fine. What do you have mind?”

  Raphael leaned down and whispered what his plans were for her once they got home. And Cyn had to fight the urge to press even closer to him and rub her body all along his.

  “Right, then,” she said briskly. “Let’s go. We can take the side gate to the street. It’s faster. And don’t worry about the check. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.”

  And that was how Cyn and Raphael ended up creating a brand new, and quite spectacular, memory for Halloween.

  The End

  Aden and Sidonie’s First Christmas

  December 2013

  (Between ADEN and Vampire Vignette #16)

  ADEN MANAGED TO wait until the elevator doors closed before rubbing his forehead in a fruitless attempt to relieve some of the stress. Life had been so much simpler before he’d become Lord of the Midwest. Sometimes he wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. The elevator doors opened on his private quarters, and a rare smile crossed his face as he was reminded of the one reason he’d never regret coming to Chicago. He’d never have met Sidonie otherwise, and, although few people knew it, after centuries of bitterness, she’d made his life sweet.

  She was in the other room now, singing along with Christmas music on the radio. And she’d lit a fire. He could smell the aromatic smoke from the applewood she’d bought just for the holiday. After a slight detour to his private office, he followed the sound of her voice to their bedroom and found her dancing around a small Christmas tree, hanging ornaments. He paused, leaning against the door jamb and watching her silently. She was graceful and beautiful, and she was his.

  Sidonie spun around at that moment and saw him standing there. A welcoming smile lit her face. A smile of such warmth and happiness . . . for him. It still surprised him sometimes. But tonight, the surprise was for her.

  “Aden!” She skipped over to greet him, going up on her toes, her fingers fisted in his jacket, face raised expectantly. He rested a hand against her lower back, fingers splayed as he pressed her closer. He brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, before crushing her mouth against his, wrapping her long, curly hair around his fist and holding her there. She moaned softly and his dick was instantly hard.

  “Good evening, habibi,” he murmured. “Did you miss me?”

  “Endlessly.” Her arm brushed against the gift he was hiding behind his back and her eyes lit up. “What’s in the box?”

  “What box?”

  Sidonie did a fair imitation of a vampire’s snarl, and he laughed. “It’s a present for you.” She made a playful grab for it, but he pulled it away. “It goes under the tree. Isn’t that how this works?”

  “Only if you believe in Santa Claus. Too bad my brothers ruined that for me ages ago. Can I open it?”

  Aden pretended to consider her request. The truth was, he’d fully intended that she open the gift tonight, since it was something for her to wear two nights from now, when they had dinner with her parents. Aden didn’t give a damn whether her parents liked or approved of him. Sidonie was the only one who mattered. But he knew it was important to her, and he wanted them to know that she was important to him. If anyone hurt his Sidonie, parents or no, they would pay.

  “I guess you’re right,” he agreed. “Let’s sit over there.”

  Sidonie gave him an extra-long, lingering kiss, then snagged the elegantly wrapped box and hurried over to sit on the sofa, her face flushed with pleasure. Aden sat next to her, leaning back to watch in bemusement as she stroked the embossed silver foil and caressed the brilliant blue silk ribbon, before finally ripping it all apart and lifting the lid. It was a fair-sized box, big enough to hold a pretty party dress, or a warm jacket. But what Sidonie found was layers and layers of silver and sapphire tissue until finally . . .

  Her face paled, losing all of its color as she looked up at him in shock.

  “Open it, habibi.” He could hear her heart racing as she opened the small velvet box.

  “Aden,” she whispered reverently, then gazed up at him, her blue eyes full of crystal tears. “But we’re already—”

  “Mated. But this is for you. For your family, so they’ll know you’re mine.”

  Sidonie lifted the stunning ring with shaking fingers. She looked up. “Will you . . .”

  Aden took it from her,
then cradled her elegant hand in his huge paw and slid the ring onto her finger. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckle, then raised his eyes to meet hers. “Will you be mine, Sidonie?”

  Sidonie launched herself into his arms, gripping his neck so tightly, he could feel her heart beating against his chest.

  “Silly vampire,” she whispered. “I already am.”

  The End

  A Council of War

  July 2014

  (Between VINCENT and DECEPTION)

  NICK WALKED JUST ahead of Lucas as they moved down the wide corridor of the Chicago hotel. Chicago was Aden’s territory. Lucas and his people had flown in from Minneapolis right after sunset, staying there last night so that Lucas could have some time with his mate Kathryn, who was an FBI agent in the Minneapolis office. Aside from Lucas’s need to spend quality time with his mate, there was the fact that none of them had been too keen on spending their vulnerable daylight hours in another vampire lord’s territory, no matter that Lucas and Aden had been friends for over a century. It was one thing to party with a guy, it was another to trust your life and the lives of your people to his goodwill.

  The hotel hallway bristled with aggression. Vampires from two separate security teams already filled the corridor, with more emerging from their separate suites to stare with thinly veiled suspicion at the new arrivals.

  A pair of double doors opened at the far end of the hall, and Aden’s lieutenant, Bastien, emerged, followed by a stunningly beautiful female vamp. The female was Emelie, Rajmund’s lieutenant. Word was that she was as vicious a fighter as any male, regardless that she looked like she should be walking a runway instead of guarding the back of one of the most powerful vampires in North America.

  Tension in the hallway drained abruptly as the team’s respective lieutenants headed Nick’s way, with Bastien smiling broadly. He and Nick knew each other well. Yet another result of Lucas and Aden’s longtime friendship.

  “Nick,” Bastien greeted him warmly. The two of them gripped hands and thumped shoulders in the acceptably macho way of big men. Behind Bastien, Emelie was rolling her eyes.

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t slam bodies along with the two of you,” she said dryly. “How are you, Nicholas?”

  “How about a hug, then, Em?” Nick joked, laughing at the exaggerated look of horror Emelie threw his way.

  Bastien stiffened to attention with military precision as Lucas caught up with them. “Lord Donlon,” he said with a small bow.

  “Bastien,” Lucas drawled. “Is your boss inside?”

  “He is, my lord.”

  “And Rajmund?”

  “Also inside, along with the ladies. This way, if you would.”

  Nick and Lucas exchanged a look, agreeing without words that it was safe for Lucas to proceed. Not that there’d been much doubt. The three vampire lords were meeting to discuss their mutual defense. They were allies of a sort, at least for now. Such an alliance went against centuries of vampire history, both on this continent and elsewhere. But when times changed, survivors changed with them. And one thing vampires had always been good at was survival.

  Nick and Lucas followed Bastien and Emelie into the elegant hotel suite. The rest of their team stopped at the entrance, remaining in the testosterone-filled hallway with the other security types while Nick closed the door so the meeting could begin.

  Turning from the door, Nick scanned the room quickly. Aden stood near a wall of windows, his head bent to listen to something his mate, Sidonie, was saying. Her mass of red curls sparked gold in the lights from the city outside the glass.

  Continuing his scan, Nick noticed someone moving around in the bedroom on the right, someone both female and human. Nick caught a flash of blond hair and knew the person was Rajmund’s mate, Sarah.

  Nick’s gaze shot leftward as Rajmund rose from his seat on an uncomfortable-looking designer sofa to greet Lucas. None of the vampires in this room were small, with the exception of Emelie, and even she was six feet tall, albeit a very slender six feet. But Raj, as Rajmund preferred to be called, was bigger than any of them, well over six feet and probably close to three hundred pounds of pure muscle and meanness. Raj was said to be friends with Raphael’s former lieutenant Duncan, who was now a vampire lord in his own right, with his HQ in the human capital of Washington, DC. But in this room—given the friendship between Lucas and Aden—Raj was the odd man out, and he clearly knew it.

  “Lucas,” Raj said, his voice a deep rumble that conveyed no emotion at all, his gaze the icy blue of his Polish ancestors.

  “Raj,” Lucas responded with his usual easy and relaxed demeanor intact. Lucas was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, and not someone you wanted to cross, especially when it came to the people he cared about. But as for the rest of it . . . Lucas Donlon enjoyed life too much to get stressed over details. Until he did. And then all bets were off.

  Lucas nodded at the glass of vodka in Raj’s hand. “Any decent scotch in this place?”

  “What would you know about decent scotch?” Aden said, crossing from his spot near the window to grip Lucas’s hand, the two of them bumping shoulders in much the same way Nick and Bastien had earlier.

  “I’ve had good tutors,” Lucas said cheerfully. “What’s available?”

  “There’s some forty-year-old Glenfiddich, if that suits,” Aden said, rounding the bar and pulling out a crystal tumbler. “Have a seat.”

  Lucas nodded, accepting Aden’s invitation for what it was, an attempt to get everyone to settle down and relax, never an easy thing with three vampire lords in the same room. Lucas sat on one of the two big chairs, lounging back as he always did, with Nick taking up station behind him. Aden handed him a glass filled more than halfway with a tawny gold scotch that had a wonderful aroma, or what the scotch snobs would call a nose. Nick wouldn’t be drinking tonight, though, no matter how enticing the nose was.

  Raj sat back down on the sofa, one arm stretched along the back, the other holding a crystal tumbler of vodka that was frosty with condensation.

  “So,” Aden said, taking the chair next to Lucas.

  “So, war is coming.” Raj said what they all were thinking.

  Lucas nodded soberly. “Raphael thinks the Europeans will come at him first.”

  “Makes sense to take out our strongest fighter, if they can manage it,” Aden agreed.

  “He also thinks they’ll make their move soon,” Lucas added. “He’s sensing a disturbance in the force lately.”

  “Bet you’re glad I made you watch those movies now,” a woman muttered from the other side of the room, clearly forgetting about vampire hearing and not intending to be heard. Sarah should have known better by now.

  Raj glanced over at the bar where Sarah was perched on a bar stool next to Sidonie. The two of them were sipping fine champagne and giggling like schoolgirls. Sarah caught Raj’s amused look and gave a little wave of acknowledgment. She was a pretty little thing, short and curvy, with long, blond hair, and an admirable chest. Not that Nick would ever admire said chest. He valued his life too much to risk Raj’s displeasure that way.

  “So, we three have agreed to back up each other when the war comes,” Aden said, ignoring the amusing interplay between Raj and Sarah. “Duncan has said he’ll help out Anthony. But who helps Raphael?”

  “I do,” Lucas said quickly. “If he needs it.”

  “What if they succeed in taking out Raphael?” Raj asked, voicing something none of them wanted to consider.

  “They won’t,” Lucas said clearly.

  “But what if they do?” Raj persisted.

  The already charged atmosphere of the room soared into the stratosphere as Lucas stood, power rolling off him in waves so hostile that Raj and Aden both leapt to shield their respective mates. This was one of those times when cool and relax
ed Lucas disappeared. He wasn’t entirely rational when it came to Raphael, who was his Sire and the closest thing he’d ever had to a father. Although Nick was probably the only vampire in the room who knew that.

  “If Raphael dies, then we start killing,” Lucas snarled savagely. “And we keep killing until any of those fuckers left alive crawl back to the holes they came from.”

  With that pronouncement, Lucas spun on his heel and stormed for the door. The meeting was over.

  “Lucas.” It was Aden who spoke up, their century of friendship overriding Lucas’s rage.

  Lucas paused, one hand on the door knob as he turned to give Aden a decidedly unfriendly look.

  “We will all fight to the last man to protect what is ours, and that includes our friends. You know that.”

  Lucas nodded tightly, then pulled the door open and strode out into the hallway, with Nick following. The security team fell in without a word. They remained silent in the elevator and through the crowded lobby, showing no regard for the humans who shuffled aside, staring at the fast-moving huddle of big, hard men. Had the humans recognized Lucas for what he was, Nick thought to himself, they’d have been cowering in the corners instead of gawking like tourists.

  Lucas didn’t say anything until they were in the SUV and heading back for the airport.

  “Something’s up with Raphael,” Lucas muttered for Nick’s ears only, explaining at least part of his furious reaction upstairs. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Can you call him?” Nick asked.

  Lucas shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s happening right now. He doesn’t need to be distracted by me calling to worry like an old woman.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to Raphael, Lucas. Even if he wasn’t the biggest badass on the planet, he has a whole security team full of hugely powerful vamps to back him up.”