Sweet Last Drop

by Melody Johnson

  “You do that. And take more silver nitrate as well. More never hurt.”

  “Thanks.” I snatched a can of the silver spray from the console and shut its lid. I preferred the silver nitrate over the stake because if a vampire turned the spray against me, it wouldn’t harm me. I couldn’t say the same about a wooden stake. One stab through the heart would kill me as effectively as it would kill them.

  I actually had more than Walker’s weapons as protection against vampires, including new silver earrings I’d bought to match the silver necklace Dominic had given me, but I couldn’t tell Walker about the necklace. A vial of Dominic’s blood hung from the chain in a hollow, glass pendant. I’d shied away from wearing it when Dominic had first bestowed the gift—in general, I made a habit of avoiding jewelry containing bodily fluids—but his blood could heal injuries when applied topically. Anything that could do that was more precious than silver nitrate and stakes combined. Inevitably, no matter the caliber of weapons we carried, I’d need to heal in some capacity after interacting with vampires.

  I swallowed nervously as the Chevy rolled to a halt a few feet shy of the shadows. “Just because she’ll burn, doesn’t mean she won’t cross into the sunlight anyway. Dominic once deliberately melted his hand on silver just to prove a point. They don’t think of pain and injuries like we do because they heal so quickly.”

  “I know,” Walker said. He opened his truck door. “But she won’t.”

  “I don’t want to bet my life on it.”

  “It’s not a bet. It’s guaranteed. Bex is very careful not to remind me of her true nature. She doesn’t threaten me with her fangs or claws like Dominic. She never allows herself to burn or growl in front of me. I’ve seen her drink blood from a wine glass, for God’s sake, as if that’s more civilized than drinking it from the vein. After all her time and efforts to seduce me, I doubt she’ll stop now.”

  I snorted. “I’m doubting,” I said, but despite my reservations, I gripped the door’s handle and stepped out of the truck to face Walker’s Master.

  Bex was fully disguised in human-illusion, as I referred to it. Dominic had a similar look right after he fed, like the blood swelled his muscles, shined his hair, and smoothed his skin to healthy perfection, so he looked deceptively human without any of our human flaws. Bex was no exception. Her body, though feminine, was lean and sculpted. She wore dark skinny jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a fitted tee as if she were just another hometown heartbreaker. Her bronze locks swayed in gentle waves past her shoulders, and her glowing complexion looked smooth and tempting. Despite the act, as valiant an effort as it was, Bex couldn’t hide the telltale luminescence of her reflective, yellow-green irises that bled to white toward the pupil.

  Bex may have looked flawless now, but I knew from experience with other vampires what she’d look like when she didn’t drink blood. I’d been stabbed by their gargoyle-like claws and bitten by their razor-sharp fangs. Although Dominic enjoyed flaunting the sculpted perfection of his well-fed body, he also enjoyed taunting me with the monstrous version of himself. To see how long I’d last before flinching. To test how close he could draw near before I stepped back. I called his bluff most days, but one day I suspected, like the wild animal he imitated, his instinct would be to strike.

  Bex smiled, carefully close-lipped. “Ian. It’s lovely runnin’ into y’all,” she said, her voice a dainty drawl, more belle and less redneck than the rest of Erin’s locals. I wondered if her dialect was an act to lower our guard or if she was truelly southern.

  Walker crossed his arms. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”

  I stepped around the Chevy and grimaced as pain stabbed through my hip. I’d sat on a bus for most of the day, but I knew by the click and grind of bone on bone that the little time I’d spent on my feet had been too much. Five years had passed since the stakeout I’d taken a bullet for Officer Harroway. The injury had been worth the story I’d scooped, and of course, it’d been worth saving Harroway, but I’d live with chronic arthritis for the rest of my life.

  I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried not to limp the ten feet it took to reach Walker. We stood in the shining warmth of sunlight, and like a divider between us, Bex remained confined to the overpass’s shadow.

  Bex cocked her head. “Won’t you introduce me to your friend?”

  “She’s of no concern to—”

  “DiRocco,” I said, and Walker groaned.

  Bex’s eyes flicked to study my face and something, not quite recognition, but something akin to familiarity, sharpened her gaze.

  “Cassidy DiRocco, night blood to Dominic Lysander, Master of New York City,” I specified. I nodded in greeting instead of offering my hand. She wouldn’t extend hers into the sunlight and I sure as hell wouldn’t extend mine into the shadows. “Great to finally meet you.”

  Bex didn’t say anything for a moment. I braced myself for her attack, considering the threat she posed to Dominic, but she just stared at me, stock-still. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was shocked. After living a few hundred human lifetimes, I’d imagine that shock was rare. I’d been an iron-clad cynic at only thirty years old; then I’d met Dominic and discovered the existence of vampires. Now, shock was normal.

  “Likewise,” she said, suddenly animated again. She smiled wider, still close-lipped but lovely nonetheless. Her amiability didn’t seem forced, but I’d bet that without that strip of sunlight between us, I’d already be dead, or maimed and writhing at the least. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  I smiled, but my expression certainly felt forced. “All good things, I hope.”

  Walker leaned in threateningly. “Let it go, Bex.”

  “You were Walker’s partner while he was in the city, is that right?” Bex asked, her glowing, unearthly eyes trained on me.

  “Unofficially, yes, I suppose you could call us partners. I covered his back, and he covered mine on numerous occasions.”

  Bex nodded. “I’d like to extend my gratitude. The rule of New York City’s coven is collapsing, and bless your heart, I’m grateful that my night blood had someone to rely on in my stead.”

  “Your night blood?” Walker asked. His voice was low and growled from somewhere deep and ugly inside of him.

  I winced from Bex’s opinion of the city. “I’m not sure ‘collapsing’ is an accurate assessment of Dominic’s rule.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re wrong,” I stated, and the depth of my feelings surprised me. It almost felt like loyalty. “Once Dominic survives the Leveling, the coven will once again be under his full reign.”

  Walker looked at me like I’d sprouted a wholly unwelcome second head.

  Bex raised her delicate, carefully sculpted eyebrows. “If he survives.”

  “When,” I corrected.

  “You sound so certain of Lysander’s abilities.”

  “And my own,” I said, nodding. I had my issues with Dominic, but he’d saved my human life when he could have easily taken advantage of my injuries and unconsciousness to have his way and transform me into a vampire. But knowing my preference to remain human, he hadn’t. For that, despite my misgivings, he’d earned a sliver of my trust. “We’ll weather the storm.”

  “We,” Bex murmured. “Your attitude is refreshing.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help my reaction. It bubbled up from my gut in a swift burst.

  Bex narrowed her eyes.

  I raised a hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just that not many people qualify my attitude as ‘refreshing.’ I’m usually a little too outspoken for most people’s tastes.”

  Bex smiled, and this time, she let her fangs slip from between her lips. “I like the taste of you just fine.”

  “That’s enough,” Walker snapped. His face was boiling red, and it took me a moment to realize that he was embarrassed, like Bex had exposed something private. “Why did you stop us?”

  Her fangs were longer than any other vampi
re’s fangs I’d ever seen while still in human form, even longer than Dominic’s. Like a snake’s retractable bite, her fangs must slip into sockets in her lower gums. Otherwise, they couldn’t fit in her mouth.

  “To say hello, of course. It’d be rude to cross paths with y’all and not acknowledge one another,” Bex said, her fangs tucked neatly away, once again the dime-a-dozen country sweetheart.

  “Hello. So we’re done here then,” Walker said. He ushered me back toward the truck. “Have a good evening.”

  “But now that we’re all acquainted, it’d be rude not to extend an invitation. You protected Ian with your life, and I would be remiss not to extend my gratitude to such a loyal partner. Are you free tomorrow evening for dinner?”

  Walker snorted. “When was the last time you extended an invitation to Ronnie?”

  Bex’s eyes shifted like two lasers to target Walker. “Bring her as well.”

  Walker snapped his mouth shut. The muscles in his jaw flexed convulsively, and I wondered if he was chewing on his tongue.

  I cleared my throat. “Tomorrow evening works for me.”

  “No it doesn’t,” Walker growled.

  I glared at him. “Then you don’t have to come.”

  Walker stared at me, his eyes wide and searching, like he was desperate to find something he’d lost.

  I turned to face Bex again, and she was much closer, less than two feet away. The setting sun had begun to cast a longer shadow in the five minutes while we talked, and Bex had inched along its growing path toward us. This close, even wearing her human façade, she couldn’t pass as anything but the creature she truelly was. Her skin was too flawless, her features too sculpted, and her eyes, those glowing yellow-green swirling orbs, too animal. Looking into her eyes, I knew that her brain didn’t feel like ours. She had goals and desires, but when her motivations boiled down to their core, I suspected that she and Dominic and all the rest of the vampires, although capable of love or the memories of love from their human existence, now acted primarily on instinct.

  Bex lifted her hand up to my face, and I realized that the overpass angled toward me. I was centimeters shy of its shadow. She ran her fingertips down the line of sunlight between us, mere inches away, and I froze. A thin, rotting stream of twirling steam hissed from the pad of her pointer finger. I stared at that finger as it boiled, the skin beginning to bubble and ooze scant millimeters from touching my hair.

  I held my ground, determined not to flinch. Her thumbnail elongated into a claw, but her face remained beautiful. Dominic’s transformations were often a result of his emotions and maybe instinct, so when his fingernails elongated, his nose flattened, ears pointed, and brow furrowed. But Bex wasn’t losing control of her other features. She had deliberately only transformed her thumbnail.

  She sliced her claw-like nail across the lock of my hair. It clipped in half and fluttered to the ground.

  I stepped back into full sunlight and out of reach. Bex let my remaining lock of hair slide from between her scabbed fingers. Her hand dropped to her side.

  Walker’s gaze flicked back and forth between Bex and me, and I didn’t appreciate the calculation in his expression.

  “Until tomorrow,” Bex murmured.

  I blinked, and she was suddenly, inconceivably gone. Her reflective, otherworldly eyes had illuminated the shadows like twin halos, rendering the darkness a little deeper in her absence.

  I reached up and wearily tugged on the shortened lock of hair. Her swift departure reminded me of Dominic. Despite my growing experience with vampires, his abilities still awed me. It didn’t matter that he displayed inhuman physical and mental feats at least once a night. I doubted I’d ever consider his exceptional abilities anything but exceptional.

  “Get in the truck.”

  Walker pounded the gravel in three long strides to his driver’s side door. He didn’t seem awed by Bex’s abilities in the least, but I knew better than most the comfort and clarity of being downright pissed. I bit my tongue and got in the truck.

  Walker kicked the ignition, and I held my breath as we drove under the overpass and into the shadows. The cab dimmed for a heart-rending moment. The roar and hiccups of Walker’s truck and the squeaking grind of its wheels crunching over the pavement was the only noise between us. Walker didn’t offer any assurances about our safety now that Bex was gone, and I wondered if, despite knowing Bex longer than I knew Dominic, or perhaps because of his better acquaintance, he didn’t trust her not to double back and attack us.

  Light beamed through the windshield as we crossed over, and in the next moment, we were once again basked in the sun’s protection.

  I released a shuddering breath.

  “What does Dominic have on you?”

  I turned to face Walker. “Excuse me?”

  He wrung the steering wheel in a punishing grip. “He can’t control your mind like the rest of us, so the only way I can even fathom that you would consent to that circus I just witnessed a moment ago must be blackmail.” Walker turned to meet my gaze. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said flatly. “Dominic doesn’t have anything on me.”

  He sighed. “I can’t help if you don’t let me in. Whatever it is, Cass, I’ll take care of it.”

  A laugh burst out from the same deep, dark corner I’d stowed my agony over Nathan, so the laugh sounded sarcastic and hysterical and not funny in the least. “Oh, you’ll just—” I snapped my fingers”—take care of it.”

  Walker locked his earnest, velvet brown eyes on mine; the strength and confidence in his gaze made me believe that he could take care of it, or at least, that he believed he could.

  “He might have healed the injuries you sustained in his coven, but make no mistake, healing you was for his benefit, not yours.” Walker said tightly. “He wants you. He’ll use you, and when he’s done, he’ll discard you. Dominic Lysander can’t be trusted. None of them can,” he said, his expression fierce. “If you need help, place your trust in me, Cass.”

  An infinitesimal blossom of hope ripened inside my chest. The feeling was just a pin-prick of light, but it was more warmth than I’d felt inside myself in weeks. I had to look away before I started believing him.

  “You weren’t there when I needed you last time,” I said softly.

  Walker reared back, shocked. “The hell I wasn’t.”

  I nodded, feeling deflated. “We infiltrated Dominic’s coven to kill the rebel vampires, but you wanted to kill them all. We were outnumbered and losing daylight, and when I asked you to fall back, you forged ahead with your plan without me.”

  Walker closed one eye on a wince and massaged his temple. “You’re twisting what really happened. When I realized we were outnumbered, I told you to leave while I finished the mission. I was protecting you.”

  “You never should have finished the mission! You should have left with me because that’s what partners do, they stick together, but you were too hell-bent on killing vampires—all the vampires, not just the rebels we had agreed to kill—to recognize a suicide mission when it’s slapping you in the face. Or in your case, when it’s driving its talons into your stomach.”

  Walker was quiet for a long moment. I didn’t expect him to agree with me. His savagery concerning vampires was an established note of contention between us, but I expected him to say something. He remained silent and continued massaging his forehead.

  “Are you ok?” I asked.

  “You’re right.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “I left you alone and without backup because I was greedy to finish the mission and kill the vampires. We should have stuck together because, like you said, that’s what partners do. I’m sorry.”

  My mouth fell open at his honesty. He was such a reasonable and intelligent man in every way except in his single-minded vendetta against vampires; still, I was shocked that he’d admit fault.

  Walker stopped massaging his templ
e and took hold of my hand. His thumb stroked over the inside of my wrist. Shivers shot up my arm to my shoulder. “Can you forgive me, darlin’?”

  I pursed my lips against the dual heat and chill his touch ignited. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

  Walker narrowed his eyes. “But you don’t trust me.”

  I shook my head. “I accept your apology, but it’s one thing to say you’re sorry. Even if you mean it, which I believe you do, it’s something else entirely to show me.”

  “Give me the chance to prove myself.”

  I released a long sigh. The crushing weight of Dominic’s situation in New York City and his approaching Leveling was my constant shadow, no matter the distance. “You can prove it to me by joining me for dinner with Bex. I need you to play nice and have my back.”

  “Play nice,” Walker said quietly, nearly inaudible.

  I nodded.

  “With Bex.”

  “Dominic needs this alliance. We—”

  “I don’t care what Dominic needs! We are not visiting Bex’s coven for dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Well I certainly am, with or without you.”

  “Helping Dominic isn’t the answer,” Walker ground out. “Whatever he’s using as leverage over you, tell me. Let me help you.”

  “I need you to be my partner and accompany me to dinner. That’s the help I need,” I pled, the argument familiar and bitter for its familiarity. “Please.”

  Walker winced and covered his eyes with his hands.

  I glanced at the road as we listed slightly. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

  “Let Dominic mend his own alliances, and if he can’t, what do I care if they tear each other apart? Just two less vampires in the world for me to kill.”

  “Right,” I said, realizing that I’d be having dinner with Bex tomorrow night on my own.

  “Besides, Ronnie can’t go into that hell hole. She’d fall apart.”

  I put my palms up. “You got her involved. Not me.”