Now or Forever

by Jackie Ivie

  “Holy smack. Where did you learn English again?”

  “Hong-Ye. And his cell phone.”

  “Oh yeah. That’s right. You just randomly called numbers, and the best party you could reach was an economics professor with a minor degree in snooty-sounding English?”

  “I’ve been watching movies, too.” Her tone was defensive.

  “You have?”

  “On the laptop.”

  “What kind of movies can you get in this part of the world anyway?”

  “Mostly black and white. But I put them in English and read the subtitles, so I learned even faster that way. I also know some Spanish.”

  “Let me get this straight. You took out an archeologist team for a blood fix, stole a laptop that was probably monitored, and used it to stream a bunch of dusty, old movies. You’re really cute. You know that?”

  “And you’re handsome.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “I really hate to disillusion you, Hon, but I’m pretty much average.”

  “No.”

  “Oh yeah. Average build. A bit tall, maybe, depends on the hemisphere I’m in. If I get sent to any Scandinavian country, I’m actually a tad short. But there you have it. Average is my middle name.”

  “No.” This time she shook her head.

  “Tassanee. I really like the way you think, but I have to be average. That’s how covert operations work. You blend in. You don’t stand out. Nobody really notices you. That way nobody can do much of a recollection later. But I do like the way you think.”

  “You are not average. You are way too handsome.”

  “Okay. I give. You can have a dollar. But that’s my top offer.”

  “I was also looking at your...whiskers.”

  He turned his head to completely face her. “What?”

  “If you pay me, I should give you your money’s worth.”

  “Wow. You are definitely a woman who takes a man at his word.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “I don’t usually look this rough. So I’ll make a deal with you. When I get near a razor and shower, I’ll handle it for you.”

  “You will?”

  “I don’t give razor burns on purpose, love.”

  “Razor burns?”

  “Your lips a little sore? Maybe your chin line? I didn’t mark you too much, did I? Oh damn. You even have a hickey.”

  She frowned.

  “A hickey. You know. Like a bruise, from sucking a little too hard in certain places. In your case, it would probably contain two puncture marks. From these.” He pointed to his own canine teeth.

  “Oh. A neck mark.”

  “Yeah. And you have one, which is going to be an instant indicator that we had a great time with in-flight entertainment. Especially since it’s not turtleneck weather.”

  She frowned again and scrunched one eye.

  “I really like that look of yours, Tassanee. Really.”

  “Look?”

  “The confused, ‘what the hell is he talking about?’ look. Yeah. That one. Promise not to lose it too soon. Okay?”

  He was smiling through it and she matched it. And then his smile faded. He cleared his throat.

  “I suppose we should put the cabin back in some semblance of order.”

  “Len?”

  “Yeah?” he answered it from over his shoulder.

  “Will you make love to me again?”

  She watched as he went statue-still and then reached for the lever, putting his chair back upright so it matched hers.

  “That is not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Time, mainly. This jet is bound to need refueling soon. We’ve been flying for...” He lifted his wrist and checked the thing on his arm again. “Damn. I knew I should have bought the water resistant one. Let’s just say five hours. No. Wait.” He looked about him and narrowed his eyes. “This is a Gulfstream...G Series. Wow. Depending on modifications, we can probably go twelve to fourteen hours before needing refueling. Then again, I don’t know how long we’ve been flying or how much fuel we had when we started, or what the weather and wind conditions are, all of which affect fuel usage. This is a nice ride, babe. Pricey. But nice. Really nice. I might have to look into getting one myself. I might even have enough funds one of these days since all I do is stick my paychecks in various accounts and sit on it. Oh. And pay taxes.”

  “But vampires can fly.”

  “Right. I am not touching that. Not even with a ten foot pole.”

  “What?”

  “Vampires might have the power of flight, but even they have their limitations. They sometimes need to fly beyond daybreak. That’s why VAL has lots of corporate jets. Like this one. Only not quite as nice. Dang. This is a really nice jet.”

  “So...we do have time?”

  “Tassanee. Babe. I’m beginning to think you have a one-track mind.”

  “I do?”

  “And trust me. I am definitely your man. I’m just saying time is not our friend at the moment.”

  “It’s not?”

  “On a flight this long, we might even have two pilots up there. That means one or both are probably due for a pit stop. And that means we’ll have to yank that ax handle loose and release them. And hey. I could go for one, myself.”

  “One what?”

  “Pit stop. Restroom break. Going to the head.” He shook his head. “Vampires.”

  “So...you will make love to me again? Later, maybe?”

  “That’s what you were asking? Tassanee. Babe.” He swiveled in his seat, put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. And he was grinning. From a finger-length distance away. “You have got to be joking. Do I look that dense?”

  She shook her head.

  “There are not enough munitions in the armory to stop me, sweetheart.”

  She frowned.

  “No idea what I’m saying, huh? Okay. How about they’re going to have to hog-tie me and sear my ass to the ground. That work?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Damn. I’m really going to have to use declaratory words, aren’t I? Yikes. I don’t know if I remember how. Or even, if I ever knew. Still nothing, huh?”

  She blinked a few times. His grin widened until he was chuckling. And then he stopped, took a deep breath and looked very serious all of a sudden.

  “Tassanee. Babe. What happened between us was the most amazing experience of my life. Bar none. And...oh, what the hell. I’m falling for you. Like...hard. The love stuff kind of hard. And that means this mate thing might not be such a bad—whoa there, babe! Watch the seams! I only have one jacket left!”

  She was in his arms, and showing him exactly what a hickey from a vampire felt like, and moaning and writhing the entire time. He wasn’t immune. She knew exactly what the bulge at his groin signified now. And when he spoke, it was in panted breaths.

  “Okay. You’re right. And when you’re right…you’re right. And we never did get to the ‘Len is on top and in charge’ position. Hold on, babe. We’re going down. I just hope this chair survives it.”

  He grabbed the lever, pulled, and sent the chair right back in a horizontal position.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Something was wrong.

  Len came awake, immediately aware, cognizant, and absorbing all sorts of sensory details. Without one bit of effort. The hum of the engine beneath him was still there, providing background noise as well as the slight vibration about them. Everything was exactly as it had been for hours now. The cabin was dimmer than before...which was strange. If he had to guess, he’d say it was near dawn. There wasn’t even an outline of light around the window cover. It may be dark, but he didn’t have any trouble picking out the window, the shutter he’d pulled down so any sun wouldn’t disturb Tassanee, the fabric of the walls. Oh. Shit. There appeared to be a dusting of blood droplets along the closest wall. He narrowed his eyes. It probably came from when she’d sucked at his neck. Or maybe it was when she’d raked her fingernails along his chest, giving so su
ch pleasure with the pain that he’d jammed it into memory for recollection later. Or maybe those droplets came from when he’d actually been doing the biting and sucking sometime during some really soulful kissing...

  No. Too much spray. Probably the neck thing.

  Len rolled his head slightly, looking up. The lighting system was in dual tracks above them. Right now it was just a thin line of red blinking dots. He moved his eyes. The ax handle was still in place, sealing the cockpit shut. It rattled slightly. The sound would be imperceptible to normal hearing. But nothing would be visible if his eyesight hadn’t become extraordinary, anyway. He didn’t know why he questioned it. This was the reputed side-effect to blood exchange with a vampire. One of the really pleasant ones. Elevation of all the senses.

  Superpowers.

  Instantly delivered.

  He sat up without the least bit of effort, trying not to disturb Tassanee’s form in his arms. She was all curled up; fetal position. That was against type, wasn’t it? Weren’t vampires supposed to rest in a funerary position? Like a corpse in a coffin? A mummy in its sarcophagus? Arms crossed before their breast? Stop already, Len. How would he know anyway? He’d never been invited into their resting places.

  It sure wasn’t how Tassanee rested. She had her nose tucked into the curve of his elbow, and since his jacket was somewhere on the floor behind them and he’d yanked off the remnants of his t-shirt sometime before hammering his way to bliss, he didn’t have any barrier against her. Literally. And figuratively. He could feel every slight breath she made. Her knees were tucked into the opposite elbow, pushing slightly against a bicep. That was the literal part.

  His heart gave a solid thump before deciding it really would find a normal heartbeat and return to it. Tassanee was just way too much woman. And he was way too unprepared. And that was the figurative part. He’d probably fibbed earlier. He wasn’t just in danger of falling. He was definitely already over the edge on this.

  That meant he loved her. And that changed the rules of the game. It wasn’t just insane anymore. It was dangerous.

  It was time to quit playing. And way past time to get his ass back in gear.

  “Tassanee?”

  He whispered it the same time he jiggled his arm, moving her head slightly. Her eyes opened. Caught his. And then she smiled. And his heart gave another powerful thump.

  “Oh...Leonard.”

  “Later, babe. We got issues.”

  She frowned. And he really loved that confused look of hers. And that meant he really had to look at something else. Like that ax handle. There wasn’t a pilot in VAL that would stay in there like that. Not without one word of complaint, anyway.

  “Something’s not right, babe. I have to check in.”

  “Check in?”

  “Yeah. Cell phone. Um...jacket pocket. And that means...I have to...move you.”

  Wow. He could really get used to these new powers. Placing her into the adjoining seat and moving back at a crouch to his jacket didn’t take any energy or make much sound. She was practically weightless. But since she followed him, he probably should have just taken her along in the first place.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Oh. Hey. Look at that. He hadn’t been a complete hormone-crazed lunatic when they’d boarded. Despite the fact his dick had been in charge and it had all been hazy. He’d brought the backpack with him. And dumped it at the back of the cabin. His jacket was resting atop it.

  “We got problems, babe. I just need to find out how big and how many.”

  “How do you know?”

  “A decade of training and a lifetime of saving my own ass. Trust me.”

  She scrunched her forehead again. He couldn’t help smiling as he rummaged through his pockets. Damn! He really loved that look of hers. His fingers locked on the cell, sliding it open before he even had it out of the fabric. And...

  Oh hell.

  The screen had three numbers and a dash displayed. Sixteen. A dash. And then an eight. It also showed that he was off on time somewhat. It was 0300. A.M. EEST. Eastern European Summer Time. They’d been flying west. Not east. No wonder it wasn’t dawn. They were flying away from it. That put them somewhere in Stan’s alma mater. The old USSR eastern bloc. Ukraine? Lithuania? He’d worry about that part when they landed. Len slid the cover closed.

  “What is it?”

  He needed to work on his poker face if she read his expression that easily. “Oh. It’s a code.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It said we got problems.”

  “Like what?”

  “Nothing much.”

  “Len. I’m your mate. I’m not stupid.”

  “Oh hell, babe. You’re so far off that, I might need help keeping up.”

  “Then tell me what it said.”

  He handed her the phone. “Don’t touch anything. Even if it won’t connect, it’ll probably send a signal. And I don’t want any more signals sent. Oh. Fuck!”

  She jerked a bit at his expletive.

  “Oh, hon. Sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. I had the clue the entire time! But I let my judgment get clouded. And then some. Training and resourcefulness went right out the window the moment I met you, I think. I have really messed this one up, love. Big time.”

  “How?”

  “Your laptop. You know. The one from the German archeology team?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve used it for what? Two months? Maybe more? And not one person stopped you, did they?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well. When I told Stan to call for help, I assumed he’d use his cell. He didn’t. He’s new. Damn everything and everyone! Mostly me. I wasn’t paying attention. He used your laptop.”

  “So?”

  “When he brought it to you to destroy, that was a huge clue. He said it was hacked. I should have been on top of things and already moving. Damn me.”

  “Why?”

  “That unit was zeroed in and monitored...and tracked. That’s why nobody ever stopped you from watching movies. Son-of-a-bitch. Leonard. You asshole! They were treading water after losing you at Angkor Wat. They were really shitting bricks when you didn’t show up at the hangar after their drug trafficker trick. They’d lost your sorry ass. And Stan. They’d even lost the vampire! All they could possibly do was hang out at their monitors and hope like hell you turned the laptop back on so they’d get a fix on your location...and you did! Like the dumbest new recruit! You didn’t even notice it wasn’t a VAL pilot in the chopper’s seat when you got picked up! Ah!”

  He smacked his forehead with a palm. As much power as he used it should’ve hurt. Nope. Must be another premium benefit to this partial vampire thing.

  “Len?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You are not making sense.”

  “Oh Tassanee. I’ve got to finish kicking my ass before I make sense. Look at the cell screen. What do you see?”

  She slid the top of the phone open and looked at it. And then back at him. With that cute expression of hers. And his heart gave another stutter. Damn thing.

  “It says sixteen dash eight.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s the code? What does it mean?”

  “The first number is the level of danger. Twenty being imminent death. Two is akin to telling you to tie your shoe laces or something like that. Sixteen is somewhere between bad and pretty damned bad.”

  “And the second number?”

  “Well. That specifies the level of threat.”

  “Is eight bad?”

  “Actually eight is good. The second number is based on a fraction of the first. Stop me if I’m going too fast. If it’s a quarter of the first number, then the threat is minimal. That would be a four. Local authorities, mainly. Civilians with arms. Nobody with much power. If it’s three quarters that means we’d be facing a difficult foe. If that number was twelve, it means someone in-the-know is right on our tail. Could be another immortal. Or a we
ll-equipped small army. Or a mass of Hunters with intelligence leading them. A full number would mean the threat is imminent and deadly. We usually have two options then.”

  “What are they?”

  “Hide and then run. Or run and then hide.”

  “Those don’t sound like good options.”

  “Right. That’s why it’s a good thing it’s an eight. Half of the first number. That means it’s a small band of Hunters. I liken it to half a brain. There’s like half a brain per whole Hunter. Get it?”

  “They’re not very bright?”

  “Yes and no. They’re not exactly rocket scientists but they’re not walking masses of matter, either. So. All of that aside, we’re facing a mid-level threat. More than one Hunter. Less than say...twenty.”

  “How do we know that?”

  “We’ve got at least two of the bastards to deal with. Even if we’ve only got one pilot, he’s going to land at some point, and he’ll have ground help. And don’t forget. Stan got in one of their planes, too.”

  “Will he be okay?”

  “Tassanee. Babe. Keeping you safe is my major objective at the moment, Okay? I’ll worry about Stan later.”

  “Oh...Len.”

  “No tears. Remember? It’s a rule. Here.”

  He fished out his little packet of tissues and handed one to her. And then he was sorting through his backpack and checking rounds. Just in case they’d been messed with when his brain had been disengaged. Whew. Still had both 9mms. His shoulder holster. The Ak-47. Spare rounds. And look. There was the camera, too.

  “These Hunters. They’re human?”

  “Yeah. Mostly. Some might be half-turned. With special powers. Like you made me.”

  “Why do you consider them so stupid, then?”

  “Bright. You are very bright, Tassanee.” He took a deep breath. “They aren’t stupid. I just like to put them in that box. Know what I mean?”

  She shook her head.

  “It helps prepare for an enemy if you make fun of them. It’s kind of like psyching yourself up for an opponent. You make fun of them. Jeer at them. Belittle them. It helps up here.”

  He tapped his forehead. She was giving him that confused expression again.