Stone Maiden

by Tina Gerow

  He straightened and stood. “Have a good trip,” he said softly before he turned and left.

  As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Ariel gave her tears free rein, curled up in Logan’s massive desk chair, and let the sobs come.

  *****

  James pulled his candy apple red Aston Martin into his private parking space and shifted uncomfortably. As a talent executive, he had to look the part, so he’d bought this little sardine can of a car to impress clients. However, it was uncomfortable as hell to fold his six-foot-plus frame into and he always felt like a sideshow freak trying to get out of the damned thing.

  He much preferred his jet black PT Cruiser which was safely ensconced inside his garage at home. It was a little embarrassing driving it. However, it was extremely roomy inside and got terrific gas mileage on the freeway. Or at least that’s how he rationalized it. In truth, it was just fun to drive, and fun was something he made sure to enjoy whenever he could. The kiss would never let him live it down if they knew, so it would forever remain his guilty secret. Ancient vampires just didn’t go around driving a cute car. It wasn’t good for the image.

  After slamming the door and pushing the button on his keychain to activate the alarm, James turned toward his offices, briefcase in hand. He opened his senses, and he knew he had a visitor. An ancient evil presence…Nicholas.

  “Damn,” he cursed under his breath. If he hadn’t been distracted by extricating himself from the tin can that passed for his car, he would have noticed earlier.

  Another of the original ancient vampires turned the same time as James, Nicholas could be the poster boy for the bad-assed vampire. His philosophy was to subjugate the food supply—namely humans, whereas James’ philosophy was to blend in to avoid unwanted notice and thus survive. The last James heard, Nicholas had gone into acting, currently doing a few action movies that enjoyed mild success at the box office purely because Nicholas was willing to bare everything to the cameras.

  James squared his shoulders and walked through the front door of Wellington Enterprises feeling as if he’d stepped into an enemy’s lair rather than his own offices.

  Astor met James just inside the door. “Nicholas Branson is here to see you.”

  “So I gathered.” James continued walking toward his office knowing Astor would rush to keep up. “Why didn’t you call me before letting a powerful rival into our lair?” James laid his briefcase on his desk and turned to look at Astor who visibly paled.

  “I figured you’d be pleased, Master. Nicholas Branson is an up and coming star and sought out our agency for representation.”

  James sensed Astor’s lie immediately. He let his lips curve into a smile before allowing his vampire speed to take over. In the next instant, he gripped Astor by the throat, pinning him up against the far wall, his feet dangling helplessly, his hands clawing at James’ steely grip.

  When James spoke, he made sure his voice stayed at normal conversation level. Calm always sounded scarier in his opinion—and scarier was definitely what Astor needed, if not death. Until James figured out what he was up to, it wouldn’t be wise to kill him. Keep your enemies close.

  He leaned in close to Astor’s ear. “Nicholas is the biggest stickler for vampire law and customs I’ve ever known. It’s just not done to invite yourself to another’s lair unless you are specifically invited under a flag of truce. The Master vampire is the only one who can offer such a truce. As much as you dislike the fact—I am the Master.”

  James twisted his grip tighter until Astor’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as if they were about to pop, and the cartilage in his throat made a satisfying crunch. “Not to mention, Nicholas had to be invited over the threshold by someone here on the inside. Which I’m assuming would be you.” James stared into Astor’s eyes for a long moment, letting the younger vampire wonder if he was about to die.

  “Don’t ever lie to me again, Astor. Or I’ll be more than happy to turn you into dust. That is if I don’t decide to kill you in the next few hours just for sport.” With that, he let go his grip and Astor crumbled to the floor.

  James returned to his desk and opened his briefcase, removing his files for the day. “In the meantime, I think I’ll go see to our guest.” He looked down to see Astor still struggling with his healing windpipe on the floor. “Make sure you’re available in case I…need something violent to fill my afternoon.”

  James turned his back on Astor and headed toward the conference room. James knew Nicholas would be aware of him. Nicholas would have sensed him as soon as he was within a few miles. James had gotten in the habit of only using his senses in close proximity. There were just too many bodies within a radius of a block, let alone several miles. It wasn’t practical to be constantly on alert—it tended to dull the fight or flight response for when it was actually needed.

  James stepped through the conference room door. Nicholas sat on one of the plush leather couches, his legs crossed at the ankle, his right arm resting along the back of the couch. Time hadn’t changed him much. He’d gone back to his natural black hair rather than the grey at the temples he’d used the last time James had seen him, and he wore an Armani suit. Much different from back in the 1800’s in England. In fact, it was Nicholas’ human servants he’d been in the process of killing when Ariel had seen him all those years ago. James bit back a sigh and stepped farther into the room.

  “Nicholas. To what do I owe this intrusion?” he said as if inquiring about the weather. James continued across the room and lowered himself onto the couch opposite Nicholas.

  “Intrusion?” Nicholas feigned surprise. “I hardly think seeking representation is an intrusion, James.” He smiled, his perfectly capped teeth almost too white against his tanned face.

  “Come now, Nicholas. Let us not play games.” James draped his right arm over the back of the couch mirroring Nicholas. “You and I go back a long way. Your charm and gift of bull may work on Astor, but you and I know the ways of the world better than that.”

  Nicholas laughed. The rich sound flowed around the room, and James could see on a purely professional level how audiences would eat up his film persona. But God save any groupies who got too close. Nicholas would literally suck them dry over time. He would promise immortality to many, however, he didn’t believe in moving the hunted up in the food chain to hunter.

  “James, I’ve missed you. It’s been what? Two-hundred years?”

  James held up his hand, stop sign fashion. “What do you want, Nicholas? After you ask my forgiveness for this invasion.” He couldn’t afford to let the affront pass, or he would appear weak. And appearing weak within vampire society wasn’t only bad for business, it was fatal.

  Nicholas smiled, his dangerous nature peeking through the civilized mask he wore for the humans. He inclined his head in a gesture of respect. “My apologies. Since Astor was ignorant of the ways of our people, I admit I took advantage of his lack of knowledge. But all I want is representation, James. You’re the best, and I always use the best.”

  “I’ll deal with Astor. However, if you exploit any other points of ignorance within my kiss, I’ll consider it a personal challenge. Are we clear?”

  Nicholas held his hands open in a gesture of subjection. “There’s no need to start a war over such a small incident. Again, I apologize for the intrusion.” His eyes twinkled and showed him clearly unrepentant. The words were enough for vampire formalities, and Nicholas knew it. James bit back a sigh. And the mortals thought their politics had nuances.

  James studied Nicholas and then nodded. Of course, he knew Nicholas lied through his fangs. Nicholas wouldn’t exploit another vampire’s kiss unless he planned to test the defenses before he challenged. Something was afoot, and James knew he had very little time to find out just what.

  “Why don’t you tell me what level of representation you’re looking for, I’ll consider it and get back to you?” James stared Nicholas down until the visiting vampire had no choice but to look away or declare a c
hallenge.

  Nicholas finally broke eye contact briefly before meeting James’ gaze again. “I’m sure you’re aware of my acting credits to date. I want my career to soar for the next thirty years or so until I have to reinvent myself again. Since I don’t have the aging problem other action heroes have, I definitely have an edge.”

  “True,” James agreed, switching easily into professional manager mode. “But you need to be careful. You can be an active sixty-year-old. Much beyond that and we’ll have to stage your death and fade you out gradually.” No matter what he told Nicholas, he couldn’t accept the representation, and they both knew it. It would allow Nicholas too much unrestricted access into his kiss’s affairs, which would be asking for a war. Nicholas knew as much, so why was he here? James knew he had to figure out that very thing before whatever Nicholas planned came to fruition.

  Nicholas leaned forward looking like an eager predator about to pounce. “So you’ll represent me?”

  James allowed his lips to curve. If Nicholas thought he was that foolish, he was about to be disappointed. “As I said, I’ll consider it. We don’t make it a habit to represent rival vampires—or any vampires not within our own kiss.”

  Nicholas frowned, his chiseled features dark and menacing. “You are the one always talking about blending with human society to ensure our longevity. I assumed you would be more open to working together than some of the others.”

  James stood, signaling an end to their interview. “Nicholas, as I said, I’ll consider it and be in touch.”

  After a pregnant pause, Nicholas stood as well. “Thank you for your time, James. I look forward to you making the right decision for all of us.” Nicholas turned toward the door to go.

  “Oh, and Nicholas?” James waited until he turned to face him. “Consider yourself un-invited until we decide if we will be working together.” James’ words revoked Nicholas’ ability to enter the building or any lair of James’ without his direct permission.

  Nicholas’ gaze flashed fire, but he quickly reined in his temper. It amused James to see the struggle on the vampire’s face. Maybe that was the entire reason he’d come here today, after all, he had to know James would refuse to represent him.

  After a long moment of tense silence, Nicholas nodded. “Understood. Again, I look forward to hearing from you.”

  James sighed. Now he had to go to Ariel, kiss her without being castrated, and then figure out what Gabriel had meant when he said something had already happened to Logan. Just another routine day.

  Chapter Nine

  Ariel pulled the comforter tighter around her and tried again for sleep. Thoughts of Logan in bed with Charity kept running through her brain, and each time she saw the imagined scene, another slice furrowed deep into her aching heart.

  She heard a soft whoosh of air, and in the next instant, she stood holding a dagger to a man’s jugular. She tightened her hold so if he struggled, he’d slice himself on the knife. Nothing like nine-hundred years of instincts to get you up in the morning.

  “Ariel,” James croaked.

  She took a minute to register the scent of musk and man, which always clung to James before she loosened her grip and let him go. “Don’t sneak up on me, James,” she said as she deposited the knife back under her pillow. “I could have killed you.”

  She held up a hand as she realized what she said. “Okay, I could have made a big mess on the carpets, which Logan wouldn’t appreciate.”

  Ariel turned back to face him, and her breath caught in her throat. She and James hadn’t spoken any more than necessary since he walked in on her and Logan, and this was the first time they’d been alone. Yet, the bastard had the gall to come into her room, while she was still vulnerable from the hurt with Logan, looking extremely good. No, actually he looked spectacular, which only served to irritate Ariel further. Too bad vampires don’t have to get permission to enter individual rooms rather than just the entire building.

  He wore a suit—Armani if she wasn’t mistaken—and looked every inch the sexy GQ businessman. His dark hair, ebony eyes and bad-boy good looks were a killer combination, one she decided she was finally immune to. Especially the sexy scar over his right eye—the one she’d inflicted when they’d rolled out of a hayloft during a particularly rowdy round of sex. She’d changed to stone before they’d hit bottom, but he’d cracked his head against her stone one. Why hadn’t he ever healed it? He was a vampire, after all.

  James stood confidently, oblivious to Ariel’s inner dialogue. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and made himself comfortable, sitting in the chair next to the bed. His lips quirked up into a smug grin.

  Smug, not cocky, she reminded herself. I like cocky. Smug is just damned irritating. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you without everyone else around. And it seems the only times and places you’re alone lately, aren’t very healthy for a vampire.” He smirked—another irritating habit, which caused her to fume.

  “Fine, I’m here. What did you want to talk about?” She sat on the bed and glared over at him.

  “I’ve been trying to find out who is after Logan.”

  She figured as much. “And?”

  “And, most of the vampire circles don’t even know who Logan McAllister is.”

  She deliberately cocked her right eyebrow at him. “You’ve got to be kidding, he’s a famous song writer.”

  James leaned back and stretched out his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. “Ariel, the vampire nation isn’t exactly the country music demographic.”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Ariel said. “But most of you older vampires are now in governments around the world, or in other positions of power. And that means they have access to all kinds of media—including those about country music celebrities. But you said most of them haven’t heard of him. What about the rest?”

  He sighed indulgently, sparking her temper again. “As a person in a powerful position, I wouldn’t think a song writer would be much of a threat or an asset to me, and neither do they.”

  “Fine,” Ariel said when she couldn’t think of a suitable response. “So why are you so interested in Logan?” She fixed him with a steely stare, daring him not to answer. “What do you get out of all of this?”

  A faraway look came into his eyes, but before she could do more than wonder about it, it disappeared. “I spent my time getting into the music business—legitimately,” he added when she narrowed her eyes. “And one night I went into a little hole in the wall bar in Dallas, and there he was.” James smiled at the memory. “I knew I needed to help him so the world could hear his songs.”

  She didn’t believe for a minute that he had altruistic motives in mind—there had to be something in it for him. “How noble of you,” she said as sarcasm dripped from her voice. She leaned back against the chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

  James’ gaze turned deadly and he stood to loom over her. “Whatever you think of me, Logan is one of the good things I’ve done with my life. And after Jaclyn, I…” He snapped his mouth closed and glared down at her. “Never mind.”

  “Who is…?” she began.

  The sharp look of utter desolation on his face stopped her question mid-sentence.

  “Don’t. I can’t talk about her right now.”

  She nodded, but curiosity burned through her. Would Gabriel answer her questions about Jaclyn if she asked? Ariel looked up, and her heart lodged in her throat—never had she seen James look so devastated. Granted, after she found out he was a vampire, she hadn’t seen him again until last week. But somewhere deep inside where she still boxed up the feelings she had for James, she hurt. His pain was because of some other woman, which meant he loved her enough to allow her to cause it.

  He continued to stare down at her, no doubt waiting to see if any emotions would play over her face. She refused to give him the satisfaction and glared back at him, keeping her face a mask of stone.

  After a long war of wills, James
dropped his gaze and the tension level in the room slowly seeped away.

  She noticed James still stared, just not at her face. She grabbed her robe off the chair next to the bed, and pulled it on over the silk teddy she slept in. It was a damned shame vampires had perfect night vision. “If you announced yourself, I could’ve aimed for your heart,” she snapped.

  “Good morning to you too.” His lips curved in a smile, letting her know his humor had returned.

  “I don’t consider the crack of dawn morning anymore, James.”

  His eyes bored through her thin robe, and memories of being in his arms flashed into her mind. Memories so vivid and real, they took her breath away. She staggered to the bed and sat down hard.

  When her mind cleared, she glared up at him. “I’m not one of your human bimbos. I know your vampire mind tricks for what they are.”

  Shock crossed his face. “I…I’m sorry, I always thought gargoyles were immune, so I didn’t bother shielding my thoughts.” He suddenly found his shoes to be of great interest. “My apologies.”

  She searched his face, but could find no trace of deceit. Maybe he hadn’t meant it. She sighed. It was hard to stay mad at him when he was like this. “Before I found out who you really were, you asked me for permission. I think that’s why I’m not immune.”

  James locked eyes with her, his dark brows knitted together. “I don’t remember asking you.”

  She tossed the hair out of her face and looked up at him. “The first time we made love, you asked me to open my mind to you. I remember feeling like we were inside each other’s heads, but at the time I didn’t understand the significance.”

  And now, she wished she could erase the memory, because no other being besides a vampire could give her that same experience. Although being with Logan had been incredible without it. She shook her head to dislodge the unwelcome thought.