Eden

by Eden (lit)

  It would take several days for his injuries received at the hands of her silver plated Escrima sticks to heal. That should get the point across. Though he hadn’t managed to scratch her as far as she could tell, she made her way to the fridge just in case. Here she kept ready-made potions with infusions of wolfsbane. If taken immediately after being scratched or bitten by a werewolf, they effectively prevented transformation in 95% of victiMs. As the wizard who sold her the potions explained, “The other 5% are just fucked.”

  She gulped down one phial of the bitter potion and immediately followed it with chocolate milk.

  “Blah,” she said, making a face as she disposed of the empty phial.

  As a matter of fact, the taste was so nasty, she deliberately charged extra for cases involving werewolves on the off chance that she might have to drink it. She took another drink from the carton and replaced the chocolate milk beside the holy water.

  “Shit,” she said, looking at the dirt trail her heavy boots had made across the floor.

  She removed the boots and placed them outside the door to her bedroom. That would be just one more thing that would have to wait till morning. It had been difficult to keep from letting her exhaustion show during her meeting with Viktor. She was proud of herself for managing it. But now, in the privacy of her own home, Catrina was bone tired. The enormous bedroom, which was the reason she’d originally bought the place, was a welcome sight. She closed the drapes over the one window in the corner. It was also stained glass with cross-shaped patterns. You could never be too careful when dealing with the undead.

  She unzipped her black jeans on the way to the bathroom and pulled off her long sleeved black shirt before turning on the shower. Black clothing wasn’t just a fashion statement or an attempt to look cool. It was harder to see at night and you couldn’t tell when it had been splattered with blood.

  While the water heated Catrina stood before the mirror and inspected her body for injuries. There was a bad bruise spreading over her left shoulder and another on her right thigh. She wasn’t sure if the scratch on her side had been from the werewolf or the bushes she had fallen into. Other than that, there were just the usual scars. She had a small, almost dainty bite mark on her right hipbone, made by the one vampire she’d had to kill. And a thin scar across her ribs on the left side, made by the only werewolf she’d ever had to kill.

  They weren’t very noticeable and for the most part never bothered her. They were, however, difficult to explain when you started dating someone who didn’t know you hunted down monsters. Sure, the scratch on her side could have been caused by anything. But the bite mark was clearly a bite mark. The last boyfriend who saw it didn’t care for her explanation of how she hadn’t become a vampire because she immediately doused the wound with holy water.

  It was Viktor who had sent her out on the job that earned her the bite mark and he had paid her double when he learned she had been scared. Of course, she would never have asked for more money. But he asked how things had gone and she told him. She was only supposed to follow the vampire around and spy on him. But her position became compromised and he tried to kill her. Viktor had seemed genuinely upset to hear this, and insisted she take the money.

  The mirror started to fog and she decided it was time to get in the shower. Catrina flung off her bra and panties before stepping underneath the water and wincing when it hit the bruise on her shoulder. She hadn’t taken a bad beating though, not considering she’d fought a male werewolf and not considering how he looked after the fight.

  She washed her hair as if on auto-pilot. Normally, she took the time to smell her favorite shampoo, but not tonight. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Viktor had suggested. It wasn’t the fact that he wanted to alter their agreement or even his motives for doing so that bothered her. What bothered her was how excited she was at the prospect. Even if it was only make-believe, the thought of being Viktor’s girlfriend sounded like fun. He was absolutely gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want to be seen with him? But touching him? That was a whole different animal.

  She had told him that acting wasn’t her strong point and that was true. But it wasn’t acting like his girlfriend that Catrina thought she’d have a problem with. What she was really afraid of was that it wouldn’t be acting and she might really fall for him.

  For five years she had denied her attraction to the master of the city and now she was being asked to fake it. Catrina wanted to be taken seriously in this business, so she insisted on a strict code of professionalism. A code that even she wouldn’t break for the sake of her reputation. But technically, Viktor wasn’t asking her to break that code, he was asking her to temporarily alter it.

  “No one knows who’s been helping him these past five years,” she reasoned out loud. “No one even knows that I work for him. So, my reputation wouldn’t really be damaged. I said I didn’t date clients I never said I didn’t date vampires. This just might work,” she said, reaching for her towel.

  Catrina crawled into bed twenty minutes later with her hair still wet and her mind still racing.

  * * * *

  She was awake at five o’clock wondering why she hadn’t taken something for pain before going to bed. Her shoulder was stiff and achy and her thigh throbbed. She’d already called the woman the night before on her way to see Viktor to let her know the job was done. That meant the other half of her money should already be in the bank.

  Catrina limped down the hall to the kitchen and sat up her laptop on the table while she made some coffee. She found that pain pills worked better with caffeine. She put the bottle of pills on the table and pulled up her account information. Sure enough, the rest of her money was there.

  “Good,” she thought. “Because I hurt too bad to go collect it.”

  “Thank God for a bank that works twenty four seven,” she said, pushing away from the table.

  She stood in front of the window and looked out on the rain clouds gathering while she waited on the coffee. Catrina only gave a passing thought to the fact that she was standing there in her panties and a sleeveless undershirt. Most of her neighbors had a pretty good idea what she did for a living and weren’t likely to complain.

  “Besides,” she thought, “old lady Hacket looks a hell of a lot worse than me and stands in front of the window wearing a see-through nightgown.”

  Then again, Ms. Hacket was eighty years old. Most people who lived nearby tried not to look in her window. She’d had her breasts augmented a few years back and thought that made her thirty five again. She’d been standing around in see-through nightgowns ever since.

  Catrina pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans, slipping on her bedroom shoes as she went toward the lift to go check her mail. She opened her mailbox and quickly sorted through the junk. She was just about to head back upstairs when she heard something outside. A little kitten had recently started to come by for food and Catrina couldn’t resist feeding it. She opened the door, expecting to find the little black cat and ran right into the man she’d been plotting against just the night before.

  “Alexander,” she gasped.

  She ran into him hard enough to stumble and was surprised to feel his big warm hands on her shoulders. She winced and he mistakenly thought he had held her too tight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Do we know each other?”

  “Oh,” she said, thinking up an excuse quick. “No. You just have a famous face.”

  That was true enough. Everyone knew the local pack leader, just like they knew who the master of the city was.

  He smiled, seeming to accept her explanation.

  “Listen, I really didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you alright?”

  “Fine,” she assured him.

  But she was far from it. Catrina had only seen the head werewolf from a distance before, or in pictures. He was much taller in person and much better looking. He had a presence that could have filled a cathedral and an air about him of sex and violence which was b
arely contained. He was around six foot two with shoulder length, straight blond hair and piercing blue eyes. The shirt he wore revealed every inch of muscle beneath it and she realized with a jolt that her hand was still pressed against his chest from when she’d stumbled.

  Catrina lowered her hand slowly as Alexander said, “I’m looking for someone. I have a sick friend who lives nearby and I wondered if you could help me find him. His name is Allen Marks.”

  Catrina fought to control her reaction. Allen Marks was the werewolf she’d beaten the shit out of the night before. And he was Alexander’s friend?!

  “Sick friend, huh?” she asked.

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “Yeah, I do. I just had no idea he lived near here.” She also had no idea why she was telling him the truth. She didn’t even know him!

  “Is he the one who hurt your shoulder?” Alexander asked softly. “Because I really didn’t grab you that hard.”

  “Yes, he is,” she admitted. “But wait till you see what I did to him.”

  To her surprise, the werewolf threw back his head and laughed. It was a wonderfully masculine sound that caused her body to react in ways she wasn’t prepared to hide. She knew the kind of reaction Viktor had on her body and was prepared for it when she saw him. However, she was not prepared for what the sound of Alexander’s laughter, nor the exposure of his throat did to her.

  Her heart jumped, her palms grew cold, and she was suddenly wet enough that she feared it would show through her jeans. To make matters worse, Alexander was a werewolf and she knew that he could smell her reaction, from the slight perspiration on her forehead to her extreme arousal. Nothing got past him.

  “You must be The Hellcat,” he said genially. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Some people call me that,” she admitted.

  Alexander smiled down at her again and took a step closer. To her credit, Catrina did not retreat.

  “If I admit that he really isn’t my friend, will you tell me how you know him?” he asked.

  She looked into his pale blue eyes for a moment and considered the situation.

  “Sure,” she answered after a minute. “He was stalking his ex-girlfriend. I was hired to give him the message to back off.”

  There, that was nice and neat and she hadn’t violated her confidentially agreement with the ex, which mostly consisted of “don’t tell anyone my name.”

  “You think you got the point across?” he asked. When she didn’t immediately answer he said, “You see, the ex-girlfriend is my cousin and I came by to make sure he gets the message if you know what I mean.”

  Catrina crossed her arms as she replied, “Look, I’m all for it. But the fact that he lives around here is news to me. I tracked him down at a small place in the suburbs.”

  “This could possibly be an old address,” Alexander admitted. “I didn’t have a current phone book.”

  “You look up people to beat up out of the phone book?” she said with a laugh.

  “Hey, sometimes I get bored,” he teased.

  “I can’t believe I’m gonna do this, but come inside. I’ll give you the address I’ve got.”

  He waited downstairs while Catrina retrieved the information. She came back and as she extended her hand toward him she said, “You didn’t--”

  “Get this from you and if anyone asks I don’t know you, got it.”

  He turned back just before leaving and smiled over his shoulder before giving her a wink and saying, “Thanks.”

  “Well, fuck me,” Catrina said to herself once he was out of earshot.

  That could be a problem. Not the fact that she’d met Alexander, but the fact that she’d met and liked him. The kind of man who’d stand up for his cousin and whose smile was so warm and genuine did not sound like the kind of man who killed people off to make a power play.

  Chapter Three

  The place Viktor had asked her to meet him was known as The Palace. It was a place where vampires could seek lodging to pass the day. It came complete with a daytime guard and windowless rooms upon request. Catrina had driven past it many times, but never been inside. Anyone who had lived in Eden any amount of time knew that it was owned by Viktor. And any vampire passing through knew there was no safer place than where the master of the city resided.

  A few days later she was on her way to give him an answer, as promised. She parked her bike right in front of the door, deliberately getting the guard’s attention. Catrina rose slowly, removing her helmet and tossing about her long hair for maximum effect. She had never thought of herself as sexy, but after Viktor took such an interest in her she had started to reconsider. Catrina was dressed in her usual black, however she was now wearing leather pants, boots with a spiked heel and a tight black t-shirt. It all matched her jacket perfectly, which was custom fitted with pockets and pouches galore to hide her weapons.

  “No visitors during the day,” the deep voiced guard said firmly.

  Catrina looked over her shoulder at the sunset.

  “It’s dusk,” she said softly. “And Viktor is expecting me.”

  She stepped forward and handed the card Viktor had given her to the guard. The address was printed on the front in an intricate swirling font and on the back was his signature.

  “Fine, then,” the guard said, stepping aside as he opened the door. “Wait in the lobby.”

  Her heels clicked loudly on the highly polished floor, echoing in the silence of the large room. A young man was hurrying about, lighting what looked to be hundreds of candles. Tall marble columns reached to the high ceilings and the furniture looked to be Victorian in style. As she got closer she decided that the furniture was Victorian and it wasn’t fake.

  “Who have you come to see?” another young man asked before she could sit down.

  “Viktor Van Helsing.”

  “I shall inform him,” the boy said with bow.

  About twenty minutes later, Catrina was still admiring the architecture when Viktor entered the room. She felt him before he came into sight and began to put up her shields. Her heart tried to race, but she slowed it. Her palms began to sweat, but she wiped them on the cushion beside her and tried to think of something that didn’t turn her on.

  “Let’s see,” she thought. “Something that doesn’t turn me on. Like gardening, jewelry and … pajamas.”

  Pajamas?! Viktor had come to greet her in his pajamas! They were black and looked to be made of silk. The robe he wore was long enough to drag the floor behind him and it was the darkest shade of red she had ever seen. His hair trailed down his back, hanging in waves which framed his face. She couldn’t control her heartbeat any more when she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt … or shoes. She had never had a foot fetish, but looking at Viktor’s feet, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  “My Hellcat,” he said softly, and his sultry voice felt like a hand going up her thigh. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Catrina placed a hand over her heart in an attempt to slow it down. Though the gesture was subtle, it was not lost on the master vampire. He had always known she deliberately blocked his charMs. Who’d have thought that all it took to break past her barrier was a little exposed flesh?

  “I’ve come to discuss the business matter you brought up a few nights ago,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

  “How wonderful,” he said.

  Viktor leaned forward and extended a hand toward her. He wasn’t just offering to help her stand, he was asking for an unspoken answer. He knew that she would not speak of their arrangement in front of the guards and the servants. But if she took his hand it meant that she was in agreement with what he had suggested.

  She knew what he was trying to do and gave herself permission to enjoy the feel of his long fingers as they gently squeezed her hand.

  “Please, come with me,” he said silkily.

  Catrina rose to her feet and found that the touch of Viktor’s hand made her feel lightheaded. Had it been because s
he had wanted to touch him for so long? Or was it a part of his vampiric powers?

  “A little of both, I imagine,” he said softly as he led her down a corridor.

  “What?” she stammered.

  “You were wondering which had caused you to be lightheaded, my powers or the fact that you have denied yourself my touch for so long.”

  She gasped. “You can read my mind?”

  “Always could, my dear, if you hadn’t blocked me for so long.” He laughed softly at her shocked expression. “Do not be alarmed. I can see where the full effect of my powers might come as a great shock to someone who has not allowed herself to feel them before. Seeing your reaction is also a pleasure I have long been denied. Indulge me.”

  They reached the end of the long corridor and the vampire leaned around her to open a door. His hair spilled across her face and Catrina breathed deeply of the sweet scent of his shampoo.

  “Viktor,” she said, and it came out as more of a moan.

  “Yes.” He said so much with that one word and it was nearly more than she could take.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t …”

  “Do not fear me,” he whispered as he tugged her gently forward and through the door.

  The hand which he still held felt so small inside his own. Viktor was overcome with the urge to both protect and devour her.

  Catrina’s own thoughts were along the same lines. Viktor had never looked better and that was saying a lot because he had always looked damn good. She had come here with every intention of discussing business, yet pleasure was all that she could think of. She reminded herself that it had been a year since she’d had sex and that relationship hadn’t lasted long.

  “Such a shame,” Viktor commented as he led her down a long staircase.

  “Stop it,” she said and he stopped instantly in his tracks.

  “What is it you wish me to stop, leading you to my bedroom or telling you the truth about yourself?”

  Her chest now visibly rose and fell with her labored breathing as she replied, “You’re leading me to your bedroom?”