by Jessica Sims
He nodded. “Holy water?”
I patted the two flasks taped into my bra, between each boob and underarm. My sweater was loose-necked enough that I could reach through and pull one out, and I’d practiced the move repeatedly. I’d wanted to tuck them into the front of my sweater, but that had provided a quadra-boob effect that fooled no one. “Holy water ready.”
“Garlic?”
I groaned. “God, I really hate this part.”
Rand gave me a rueful smile. “It is as painful for me as it is for you.” His hand caressed my cheek briefly, then he took a step back, waiting.
I sighed and reached into the backseat of the car. “This is the worst.” In a bag, I had a plastic spoon and an extra large jar of minced garlic for cooking, plus a bottle of water and a tiny bottle of mouthwash. I glared at Rand, as if this was his fault. “I’m never eating garlic again when I get home.”
“I would encourage that,” Rand said, leaning up against the car and waiting for me to continue. His mouth tugged up in a teasing smile. “Be strong.”
Strong. Sure. He wasn’t the one that had to choke down minced raw garlic. I’d considered getting entire bulbs and just chugging the cloves, but that presented two problems—one, getting it in the car with Rand (who didn’t seem to be affected by the jarred variety), and two, the fact that I’d have to chew all that garlic. At least the minced was chopped finely enough that I could mostly just swallow it down if I got it to the back of my throat.
Mostly.
I groaned as I unscrewed the lid on the jar. Normally I loved a bit of garlic in food, or garlic bread with my pasta. But this? This was just revolting.
I dug my spoon in, sucked in a deep breath, and shoved a mouthful in. Think of Gemma, I told myself as my gorge rose. I squinted, eyes streaming, and cough-gagged my way down.
“Keep going,” Rand said.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I said, taking a swig of the water. “You try eating some raw garlic and see how fast you can go!”
“You know that wouldn’t work at all,” Rand said, and pointed at himself. “Vampire.”
“Sarcasm,” I retorted, then pointed at myself with the spoon. “Lindsey.”
“Less complaining, more eating,” he teased, keeping his distance. As I spooned another mouthful, I noticed he took another step back, his expression becoming less amused and more uncomfortable.
As much as I complained about the taste (because really, it was awful), this was all part of our strategy. If I happened to be found by a stray vampire, and if he was the bitey kind, he’d get more than he could handle. We were hoping it’d be enough, between the garlic and the stakes and the holy water. The garlic so far was the roughest part, because I couldn’t slowly build up the amount in my body over a few days. It would have reeked out of my pores with the quantity I was currently chowing down on, and that would have been a dead giveaway.
As it was, all I needed to do was get through this jar and then freshen my breath with mouthwash. Lots and lots of freshening.
By the time I got a few more spoonfuls in, my stomach was burning a protest, and my gag reflex was threatening to go off. “That has to be enough. I can’t take any more,” I told Rand, chugging the bottle of water before switching to the mouthwash. I rinsed and spat on the roadside a few times, then spritzed myself with a light, fresh perfume. I looked over at him. “Do you want to come smell me?”
He moved forward, expression wary, and gave me a quick sniff. “I smell that blue drink.”
“That’s mouthwash.”
Rand sniffed me again, leaning so close his nose was practically in my hair. “You smell delectable, as always.”
“I imagine that’ll change once things digest and soak in,” I told him ruefully.
“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” he said. And before I could agree, Rand leaned in, grabbed me, and pressed his mouth to mine in a quick, firm kiss. “That is for luck,” he said, then wove unsteadily on his feet.
“Eeep.” I barely managed to grab him before he went down. “Maybe you don’t kiss the girl that just tongued a bunch of garlic, huh?”
“I wanted to kiss you,” he murmured, voice sleepy. He pushed me away gently, then braced himself against the car. “If this is to be my last memory, I wanted it to be a good one.”
That was alarming. “Don’t be so gloomy,” I told him, keeping my voice cheerful. “We’re going to get Gemma, and then we’ll figure out what comes next.”
He nodded, shaking off the effects of the kiss and straightening.
I looked down the road into the tiny, dark valley, where a small Swiss chalet was nestled amongst trees. That was Guy’s hideout. “I guess I should start heading down.”
“Stay safe,” Rand told me, his gaze sober. “I mean that. I need you.”
“Of course you do,” I said blithely, capping the garlic and leaving it next to the tire. I didn’t want it back in the car. “Who else will be your guide to the twenty-first century?”
“No. I need you, Lindsey.”
Speechless, I gazed at him. At his handsome, sad, noble face. I wanted to say so much, but Gemma first. So I gave him a faint smile, then turned on my heel and began to race down the path toward the home of Guy. We needed to do this, and I wouldn’t let Rand down. Or Gemma.
Determined, I kept walking. We’d found Guy’s house and parked a mile or so away so we could have the element of surprise . . . well, such as it was. I had no doubt that Guy knew Rand was closing in. I just hoped that Rand’s plan would work and any vampires in the vicinity would come after Rand and not me.
And I hoped Rand could handle them.
I paused and glanced back. The hills of the valley were steep and green, but if I squinted hard, I could make out a shape darting through the trees at inhuman speed. Rand. Stay safe, I mentally sent to him. If we get through this alive, you can totally use me as your personal juice box and I will love every moment of it, I promised.
I headed down the deserted road, toward the tiny house. If I were a centuries-old vampire, I don’t know that I would have chosen a remote little valley in Switzerland to set up shop, but everything about the place bespoke privacy. Maybe that was all Guy wanted after hundreds of years of servitude to the Dragon? Who knew how his mind worked? As I sprinted, I kept to the trees on the side of the road, trying to stay out of sight in case a car came down the way. The altitude was killing me, though, and I huffed and panted my way across the steep hillsides as I avoided the road.
I wished we’d done this in the daytime, when everyone was asleep. Maybe then I could have broken into the house, gotten Gemma out, and whisked her away before anyone could notice. Rand had been totally against the idea, though. What if Guy set traps? he’d asked me. He wouldn’t be able to rescue me for hours on end, and at least this way, if things went south, I still had someone for backup. We’d purchased a burner phone for Rand, and even though he didn’t really know how to operate it, he knew that if it rang, I was in trouble and he should come for me.
The Swiss house was an adorable sort of chalet set off on one side of a steep, tree-covered hill. I imagined in the winter it would be nestled in snow, but for now it was just surrounded by wet green grass. My boots slipped as I scrambled up the hill, heading for the lit windows. After all, it wasn’t as if I could go to the front door. The wooden chalet had a steep A-shaped roof and a balcony wrapping around the house. From where I was sneaking up, I could see a heavy stone fireplace, multiple windows, and what looked like a woodpile under the steps. The windows all had their shades drawn, which worried me a bit. Were we expected?
I circled the house, looking for the best way in. The front was a no-go, obviously. The windows were too high off the ground, and the balcony looked as if it was made of wood, and wood creaked. Since the chalet was set on a slope, though, the back of the house was closer to the ground, and I found a small window back there that looked as if it would open up into a room. Perfection. I snuck up on it, keeping my steps as quiet a
s possible. Rand had incredible hearing, so I wagered that Guy did, too, if he was home.
Please, please don’t be home.
It felt like it took forever for me to cross to my chosen window. Once I was there, though, I put my fingertips carefully on the lip at the bottom and tried to pull it up.
No go.
I studied the window. It didn’t look as if it was locked. I tried again, then felt stupid when it gave inward. It was one of those windows you flipped in to open. Duh. European houses were different from American houses. I peered into the dark room. It looked like a bathroom.
Okay, I could deal with that. A bathroom could be a safe spot to enter the house. Heck, a bathroom wouldn’t be used much by a vampire, so that could totally work. Carefully, I pushed the window in a bit more, judging the width. When it was big enough for me to slide in, I stuck my legs through, turned on my belly, and began to do a weird sort of shimmy into the house.
I misjudged the fall inside, though. My legs hung in the air, touching nothing no matter how much I pointed my toes. I wiggled a few more inches down than felt safe, trying to find a foothold—
—and my entire body crashed through to the other side. My head smacked against the lip of the porcelain tub, and I had to bite back a groan of pain as red shot through my vision. Dear God, that hurt. I lay on my back in the tub, panting, trying to fight back the pain, and hoping against hope that I hadn’t made enough noise to bring anyone—
The door opened, light flooding into the small, dark bathroom. A man stood there, his hair inky black, skin pale. He had a neat, manicured goatee and pointed features. And he looked at me and tsked.
“Now that is just sad.”
I struggled to sit up. This had to be Guy. “S-stay away from me.”
“Right.” His voice was smooth and lightly accented, and familiar. It was the voice from the phone. “Do me a favor and try not to break anything else with your head, will you? And shut that window. I don’t want any birds flying in.” When I didn’t move, he sighed. “Come on, then. We both know you’re not going to take me down with your superb fighting skills. You can’t even sneak into a house.” He gestured at the doorway, as if I’d been a guest. “You want to see your friend, right?”
Fifteen
Guy kept his hand on my elbow as he led me into his living room. “Would you like a cup of hot tea?”
Would I what? I stared at him as he ushered me forward. Offering me tea when he should have been ready to rip my throat out? “I—I don’t think—”
“Lindsey!” Gemma’s happy voice cut through my confused thoughts. “Oh my God, wow! It’s so fucking good to see you!”
“Language,” Guy warned.
“Sorry, of course,” Gemma said in her sweetest voice. She was seated in a parlor chair near the fire. A bit of embroidery was in her lap, and she was wearing a long dress instead of the jeans she normally lived in. But she looked healthy, and she smiled at me when I entered. I wanted to weep with relief.
“Gemma,” I breathed. “Oh my gosh, are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right,” she chirped. “And did you mention tea, sweetie? I’d love some, too.”
Guy gestured that I should sit in the chair across from Gemma, and I did, dazed. My cheek throbbed from my fall, and maybe it was affecting my brain, because all of this seemed really damn confusing to me. I watched as Guy headed to the far side of the living room and crossed into a nearby room, presumably the kitchen. Was he really going to make us tea?
The moment he left, Gemma grabbed my knee. I looked over at her in time to see her twirl a finger near her ear and mouth the word crazy. “Just go along with whatever he says,” she whispered to me, then straightened in her chair and began to poke at her embroidery again.
Embroidery? Gemma? It looked like she was doing nothing more than doodling stick figures on the fabric, but I did have to admit that she looked perfectly ladylike. “What—”
She kicked me. Didn’t even look up. Just kicked me and made a soft noise that said, Talk later.
I shut up. So much for ladylike.
Guy returned a moment later with two dainty china cups of tea. He handed me one, and Gemma the other. She thanked him with a sweet smile, then promptly put it to the side, shooting me a look. Right. Even I grasped that. Don’t drink. I held the cup in my hands and watched as Guy pulled a stool up and sat near us.
“So tell me,” Guy said. “To what do I owe the dubious honor of your presence?”
I blinked, trying to think of something clever yet un-accusing to say. I had nothing. “I came to rescue Gemma,” I said, deciding to go with the truth.
“Commendable,” he said, smiling over at Gemma. She returned the smile, a little too brightly. Then he looked over at me again. “You do realize she was safe with me all this time, yes?”
“Because you want to exchange her for Rand?”
“That,” he agreed with a slight inclination of his head, “and she is A positive.”
I stared at him blankly. “Huh?”
“Blood type A positive,” Gemma said helpfully. “Apparently it’s not a favorite of vampires. Remember how Rand said I’d taste terrible? There you go!”
“Ah,” I said. Because this was the weirdest conversation. I twisted my ID bracelet, knowing that it showed that I was actually Hh—Bombay blood—and super-rare. If he found out about my rare blood, it might make me even more attractive to the vampire.
“Gemma has been a true model of a prisoner,” Guy said. “Once we gave her the appropriate clothing and coached her on her speaking, she’s been a joy to have around.” He gave Gemma a pleasant look, and she beamed at him, then stabbed her needle into her embroidery again. His gaze swiveled back to me, his eyes lighting with interest. “I do see why Rand has taken such interest in you, though.”
I squeezed the teacup in my hands. “You do?”
“Mmm,” he said, and leaned in toward me. I scooted backward, but I could only go so far. Pinned between the chair and the vampire, I watched, horrified, as he took a long, languid sniff, so close that I could see his pores. Alarm pounded through me. Was he going to smell the garlic I’d ingested and take that as an attack against him? But he only smiled, his eyes thin slits of amusement. “AB negative?”
Oh. “My blood type?”
He nodded. “A rare and delicious vintage. You smell different, though. Sweeter.”
My skin prickled. “I’m actually something called Hh. No antigens or something. It’s called Bombay blood. Only sixty people in the world have it.” God, why was I telling him this? He had to be using compulsion on me to make me confess. Now he’d want to taste me for sure.
“Ahhhh. Rarer than even the rarest of vintages. No wonder you smell so decadent.” He smiled even broader, and I saw a hint of fangs. “It makes a man completely forget himself.”
Oh dear. My teacup trembled a bit on its plate.
“Why don’t you set that next to my drink?” Gemma offered, reaching over and taking it from my hands. I shot her a grateful look. “She’s some weird rare blood, yes,” Gemma told him. “But as for Rand, they don’t get along. Why, just the other day—”
“Silence,” Guy hissed, and Gemma’s mouth snapped shut, her face going pale. He turned back to me. “Do I look stupid to you?”
Was this a trick question? I said nothing, my eyes wide.
He pointed downward, his finger digging into my thigh. “I know you are with Rand. I spoke to both of you less than a week ago. I am not a fool. No doubt he is even now distracting my guardsmen so you can come here and free your friend. I bet he did not expect you to be so incompetent, did he?”
No, he probably didn’t. “W-what are you going to do with us?”
Guy leaned back, and for a moment, he wore the same sad expression that Rand often wore. “You assume the worst of me, do you not? Is your friend not safe after spending time in my company?” He gestured at Gemma. Frightened, embroidering Gemma.
“Perfectly safe,” I whi
spered.
“I know Rand will come for you,” Guy stated. He studied me thoughtfully. “If I had a blood vassal such as you, I would come for you as well. Not this one.” He flicked a dismissive hand at Gemma. “A pretty face is easier to find than a pleasant taste.”
Gemma’s smile remained frozen.
I wanted to punch him. How dare he insult Gemma, who was sweet, outgoing, and kind, all because of her blood type? What a dick. “I don’t let Rand drink from me,” I told him.
“Then he’s a fool.”
“I guess he is, because I’m not his personal keg,” I shot back.
“No, but you could be mine for the short time I have you,” he murmured, and put a hand on my knee.
I pushed it away.
“We both know Rand is coming.”
“You said that already.”
Guy’s smile was wry, lightly mocking. He sat straight and shrugged. “I can predict how this will all play out tonight. I knew he would not be able to wait the week. I knew he would never turn himself over to me.” He gestured. “We are all puppets in a larger game. You. Me. Rand.”
“Puppets?”
“Who do you truly think wants Rand dead, little girl?” Guy’s look was sardonic. “Who else is intimately aware of his return after six hundred years of silence? Do you think I care whether or not my brother in arms has returned? Do you think I care so much that I will bring him to my home, my sanctuary, over one disposable human woman, all so I can wag a finger in his face before destroying him? After riding with him for two hundred years? Do you think it was my idea to kill William and Frederic?” His smile twisted into something ugly. “Do you think I have any control over any of this, at all?”
“It’s the Dragon, isn’t it?” I whispered. “The Dragon wants him dead.” Because only the Dragon could give him release. Or death. Or a burrito. Or whatever Google Translate had come up with.
Guy gave a small nod, indicating I was correct. “The Dragon has decided that we are all expendable. Six hundred years ago, Rand showed stirrings of discontent, so the Dragon bade me get rid of him.”