by Rose Wulf
She pulled in a deep breath, closed her eyes, released the breath, and nodded.
****
The story seemed strangely surreal as Veronica recited it for Seth—especially the part about the sharp, pointy tooth that had looked suspiciously like a fang. Still, she told him everything, sparing no details. Whatever Richards was involved in was obviously bigger than what she’d overheard at the park, and she wanted to be sure to help stop him however she could. Even if that just meant repeating her most recent traumatic event. As she spoke her voice seemed to find itself again, and by the time she was done she had stopped stuttering or stalling. Saying it all out loud seemed to have been at least a little helpful, in a perverse way.
Watching Seth’s face was an interesting event, too.
It was obvious that he had been trying to keep his expression neutral in the beginning, but by the time she got to the part about Richards choking her she could see the anger building. His eyes narrowed as she continued and his jaw tightened with tension. He was the human interpretation of the tiger crouched and just about to pounce.
But before she could find any heartwarming amusement in his obvious anger something else occurred to her. Never at any point during her story had he looked startled or confused. And while she mostly understood that, there was definitely a part that probably should have jarred the anger, even if only for a second. Unless…. Oh, that was a frightening thought.
“Seth,” she heard herself saying when her story was done. He blinked, focusing his gaze, and she continued, “Are you going to tell me I was hallucinating? Or that I read too much?”
It was clear from the subtle change in his expression that he knew exactly what she was asking. But he was quiet for a long minute before he slowly shook his head and replied, “I could, but I’d be lying.”
Veronica’s eyes widened. Normal people did not have fangs. But she wasn’t sure what that meant. And as she tried searching his face for answers something finally dawned on her. Though the light behind them was entirely different, Seth technically had the exact same eyes as Richards. Richards’s eyes were dark and angry, but they were also literally black. She had been right in his face and she hadn’t been able to find a distinction between his irises and his pupils. And now, she realized, she couldn’t find one in Seth’s eyes, either. What does that mean?
“I don’t understand,” Veronica declared softly, holding his gaze.
Seth looked away and released a heavy breath, clearly debating something in his mind. But it was only a moment before he returned his gaze to hers and said, “I can explain it, but I can’t guarantee you’ll like the explanation.”
Veronica nodded faintly. “That’s okay. I’ve always preferred honesty, anyway.”
The air was thick with impatience as they sat in silence for another beat before Seth quietly said, “Richards is a vampire.”
Disbelieving shock was slowly overtaking her body, and Veronica asked, “And…you?”
“Vampire.”
Chapter Five
Vampire. He said it so easily that Veronica almost thought she’d misheard him. But his expression never wavered—he didn’t even blink—and no matter how many times she ran his words back through her mind ‘vampire’ didn’t turn into anything else. If he was joking he deserved an Oscar. The problem was, she was quickly coming to believe that he was not joking. Only, vampires could not be real. Because if vampires were real—if she had to accept that vampires walked among them—then she would be forced to wonder what else was real, too. Did all of those other old monster-movie creatures exist? And what about aliens?
Okay, Veronica, take a deep breath and slow down. Just because Dracula could—possibly—have been a documentary-in-hiding does not mean everything else is real. She hoped. If everything was real she wasn’t so sure she could handle that. There was a chance (though, at this moment, it looked a little slim) that she could learn to accept that vampires existed. If she took it one step at a time. Seth, for example, was very real and still disturbingly appealing given what she’d just learned about him. He had never once made her uncomfortable—or even been rude. In fact, some strangely-well-adjusted inner voice offered, this could explain his manners.
She was speaking (slowly and awkwardly, as if she were still learning the language) before she even realized it, asking, “What about those brothers, the Wilsons?”
Seth inclined his head. “Vampires. The only one involved in this who isn’t a vampire, to my knowledge, is you.”
So much for asking about the faceless ‘Robert’ and ‘Tiffany.’ On the other hand, at least that answered her question. And that likely explained his insistence on leaving the police out of things. She somehow doubted that the local law enforcement was equipped for blood-sucking immortals.
Veronica blinked, finally focusing, and blurted, “Wait—you drink coffee!”
His lips twitched ever-so-slightly, most likely amused at her admittedly-sad argument, and explained, “As a supplement.”
“Oh.” Well that made too much sense. But now that she had found some way to talk about it without thinking about it Veronica realized she was uncovering a lot of questions. And though she doubted she should ask all of them—at least at once—she figured there was definitely one that needed to be clarified. “This isn’t one of those ‘now that I’ve told you I have to kill you’ situations, is it?”
The almost grin turned into a full grin and Seth shook his head. “No, it’s not. Ordinary people find out about us all the time.”
“That’s good,” Veronica replied, relaxing again. “I would definitely have had to re-evaluate my opinion of you if you had said yes.”
“I could understand that,” Seth assured her, the grin holding for a beat before fading.
She watched his expression return to the obviously-normal neutral and found herself frowning. He was unnaturally gorgeous (and perhaps it was time to find a new description) no matter his expression, but when he was grinning or smiling something happened and he became possibly twice as attractive. To her mind, therefore, he needed to do it more often.
“It’s all right if you have questions,” Seth offered, clearly misinterpreting her latest silence (for which she was grateful). “We only ask that you not tell others without solid reason.”
Veronica blinked at him, taking a full thirty seconds to understand his request. And then she wanted to smack herself on the forehead. “Oh, don’t worry about that! I’m really not a blabbermouth anyway.” She paused, pulling her lip between her teeth for a moment before hesitantly admitting, “I do have questions, though. I want to be nosy and ask how, well, old you really are—because you certainly don’t look a day over thirty—and I want to know if any of those other ‘creature myths’ are true and…. Well, I want to know.”
He offered her a small, real smile and supplied, “I was Turned at twenty-eight, back in 1787, but I suppose a couple hundred hard years will age even the immortal a little.”
Releasing a slightly-embarrassed laugh, Veronica said, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. It’s just all so much…I never even considered that vampires could be real.”
Shaking his head, Seth replied, “Don’t worry about it. I know it’s a lot, and I won’t be able to explain everything in one sitting, but hopefully I can fill you in on the basics.”
“That would be nice,” Veronica agreed.
“Vampires aren’t the only ‘supernatural beings’ in existence,” Seth began calmly, “they came into this world alongside the werewolves, sometime before recorded history. Legend has it they originated from the same family. Aside from werewolves there are two types of humans who qualify as something more than ordinary as well.”
“Supernatural humans?” Veronica repeated, one slim golden brow lifted curiously. To her way of thinking that was an incredibly oxymoronic phrase.
“If you will, yes,” Seth replied with a slight nod. “Witches—humans with self-taught magical ancestry who are therefore born with special abilities�
�and what we’ve come to call Slayers. Both are mortal, but both have abilities beyond ordinary humans.”
Veronica nodded slowly, attempting to process what he was saying. Werewolves almost made sense, given that vampires were apparently real and vampires and werewolves were always associated with each other. And witches seemed fairly self-explanatory, given the assumption that magic had, at least once, been real. But he had been entirely vague on the last one, so she repeated, “Slayers?”
Seth’s frown returned, though only faintly, as though the word brought an unfortunate taste to his mouth. “Humans with the ‘sixth sense’ to find any nearby vampire or werewolf. We call them Slayers because that is what they do—they hunt and exterminate supernatural beings for a living. Most claim they do it for the greater good of the naïve human population, and most exterminate any vampire or werewolf indiscriminately.”
Veronica was quiet for a second at that. She supposed, in a twisted way, it made sense that there would be people like that. ‘Survival of the fittest’ and all. But…wait. “Most?” she repeated curiously.
“There has been the occasional Slayer who recognizes that, like any other person, we have our good and our bad,” Seth explained. “But those Slayers are rare.”
“Ah.” The more he explained the more she found herself feeling as if it all just made sense. Which, of course, did not make sense. And, while she really wanted to know more about everything he was telling her, she supposed she really ought to get back on track to what was relevant. “So,” she began, “if I want to keep Richards away from me should I hang a crucifix on my door and start wearing garlic necklaces?”
The grin returned, accompanied by a low, short-lived chuckle, and Seth replied, “I think most people will avoid you if you start wearing garlic jewelry.” His expression faded back to neutral and he shook his head before continuing, “But, no, those things won’t really make a difference. I’d say your pepper spray is good to keep on hand, if you can catch him unawares, but the best way to keep him away from you is me.”
“You?”
“Very few things can hurt or stall a vampire,” Seth explained, “and they’re almost entirely physical. Without the right tools you couldn’t win a fight against him.”
Feeling slightly defeated, Veronica slumped against the arm of the couch (which was behind her) and sighed. “I’m going to feel guilty about taking up your time just to watch my back.”
“Then we’re in luck,” Seth replied, his eyes grinning at her. “I’m in town specifically to track down and detain a group of traitors in the local Family—traitors that, as fate would have it, you managed to identify. So if you happen to lead me to Richards or the Wilsons then you’re actually helping me.”
“Seriously?” Veronica asked before she could stop herself. And then, to make it worse, she grinned and teased, “Do I get a cut of your pay for the work?”
He chuckled and returned, “I did pay for your lunch.”
She released a breath, not really having the energy to continue the teasing, and in the moment of silence that passed another thought occurred to her. “If you’re looking for Richards…should you be going back out? He might still be at my house.”
The humor fled from Seth’s face at her words, reality clearly returning to him as well. She could see the hesitance in his eyes as he said, “Probably. But I would have to leave you alone—are you all right with that?”
It was her turn to hesitate at his words. Obviously he was right, and she would feel horrendously guilty for making him lose out on the possibility of capturing one of his targets for her sake, but could she deal with being alone in the meantime? It was a good question. Suck it up, Veronica. This is bigger than you. She could handle it, even if it wasn’t her first choice, so she nodded. “I can handle it. Go, get him and end all this.”
Seth nodded, accepting her words, and pushed to his feet. “You can stay here. You’ll be safe. And I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she replied with a nod of her own. She watched him start toward the door, walking past her in the process, and had to curl her hands into fists just to keep from reaching out for him anyway. Only she wasn’t about to stop him—she wanted to kiss him. She didn’t care what he was or that it might be very strange to kiss a man with fangs, she still wanted to kiss him. The urge had struck her earlier, and been rather difficult to ignore for a long minute, but after he’d come running to her rescue and opened up to her like he had she found herself more attracted to him than ever.
But she resisted, fists staying firmly in her lap, and watched as he reached the door, only barely remembering to give him her address. He nodded and stepped through, telling her to keep the door locked until his return. Not that she needed to be told.
The faint roar of the Corvette backing out of the drive resonated in her ears until she couldn’t hear it at all. And then she was alone, left to think about everything that had happened and everything she’d just learned.
She cringed at the sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. After sitting on the couch for a while, replaying their conversation over and over again in her mind, Veronica had decided it was time to do a damage check. It hadn’t taken her too long to find a bathroom, and in the meanwhile she’d allowed herself to note with a strange type of amusement that he’d rented a place (or did he own it?) with a rather small kitchen. Not that she supposed he needed one. And now she was wishing she could do something about her bruises.
There was a nasty, and rather obvious, set of fingermark bruises on her neck from where Richards had choked her. She was going to need a scarf and makeup to hide those, because there was no arguing that they might be something other than what they were. Beneath that, on the left side of her collar, was another odd-shaped bruise, though this one was less formed at the moment. Fortunately, it would probably be coverable with just about any shirt. There were also a few bruises forming on her left upper arm, but those would be easier to hide also—she’d just have to wear sleeves.
At the least the bruises explained the pain. The shoulder/collar area of her chest had been throbbing since the adrenaline had faded, which made sense in conjunction to that bruise. Do vampires use pain medication? It would be awfully hard to take anything if she didn’t have access to it.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Veronica stepped back from the counter and left the bathroom, being sure to turn off the light as she moved. Yeah, she had some nasty bruises—and they’d only be worse when she woke up in the morning—but it could have been so much worse. As horrible as it sounded, she was well aware that she’d been lucky. And if I’m really lucky Seth will find Richards and I won’t have to worry about going through that ever again. But that was probably too much to hope for.
****
Frustrated, Seth let himself into his condo a couple of hours later. Richards had been long gone by the time he’d gotten to Veronica’s house, and once again the man seemed to have vanished into thin air. He undoubtedly had a hideout that no one knew about, and now that he was being hunted by his former Family he was staying there permanently. Unfortunately, Seth didn’t have a clue as to where to look for it. Instead of wasting another night searching in vain for another lead he had opted to return home and check on his houseguest.
Veronica was curled up in the corner of the couch, feet tucked beneath her and hands wrapped around a mug of what smelled like tea, watching reruns of a recently-popular comedy. Only she didn’t really look like she was paying any attention to it.
“Sorry I was gone so long,” Seth called gently as he flicked the deadbolt behind him.
With a shake of her head Veronica offered him small smile and said, “It’s okay. Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to some of your tea….”
“I don’t mind,” Seth assured her as he crossed the short distance to the couch. As he sat he set down an old duffel bag on the cushion between them and added, “I took the liberty of bringing you a few changes of clothes. Your purse is in here, to
o.”
Eyes wide, Veronica turned her full attention to the bag and said, “It is? I just assumed he’d have taken it.”
“I guess he doesn’t have a need for a purse,” Seth replied. “But I don’t know what may or may not be missing from inside.”
The look on her face said she was kicking herself for not considering that possibility, and she leaned forward so that she could set her mug on the small coffee table before turning toward the duffel. “Then let’s find out,” she mumbled as she unzipped the bag and wrapped her hands around the straps of her purse.
Seth watched as she dug through the contents within. Most vampires that he knew would never bother stealing from a human (or anyone else, for that matter), but he was well aware that he tended not to associate with the ones who gave vampires a bad name. And he’d certainly met a few who might consider it too good an opportunity to miss if someone’s purse fell at their feet. He suspected Richards fell into that second category.
“Damn,” Veronica grumbled, setting the purse down with a frown. “He swiped my entire wallet. And my car keys.” Eyes widening, she looked up and asked, “Was my car still parked next to the house?” She groaned even before he could answer, adding, “That means he has my house key!”
Trying to keep the glare from his face, Seth scowled and replied, “Your car was still there, and you can get your locks changed.” There wasn’t much he could offer for the missing wallet. She was going to have to cancel her credit cards and get a new driver’s license if he didn’t find her missing things soon. Hopefully she didn’t have bank records in her purse.
Veronica slumped back against the arm on a sigh. “That’s something, at least.” She was quiet for another minute before adding, “I don’t usually condone violence, but, when you find him if you could maybe hit him really hard—just once—for me? It would make me feel better.”