One Lucky Vampire a-19

by Lynsay Sands

  Much to her relief, Nicole didn’t run into Jake as she crossed the loft to the master bedroom. She thought she caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen as she scooted past, but he didn’t spot her and come out before she reached and slipped into her room. Nicole eased the door closed to prevent giving away her presence, and then slipped into her walk-in closet.

  Nicole had only taken two steps into the long room when she recalled that they’d had the accident after shopping. She had no idea what had happened to her bags, but didn’t see any sign of them in her closet.

  Nicole walked back out to her bedroom to check and be sure they hadn’t been set there, but there was no sign of them there either. It was possible they were still in the SUV . . . or that they’d been ruined in the crash and tossed out. There had been blood everywhere from Jake’s injury.

  Nicole had been unconscious and hadn’t seen Jake get hurt, or how bad it had looked right afterward, but from what she’d been told and the amount of blood on her own clothes, little if any of it from her head wound, the man had lost most of his blood in the accident. A mortal would have died, she was sure. Thank God he wasn’t mortal. It would have been a tragedy to lose such a smart, vital, sexy man.

  Sighing, Nicole returned to her closet, to search it, hoping she had something pretty and or sexy that would do. But she didn’t hold out much hope of finding anything like that. She’d deliberately tossed out everything she’d owned that was even close to sexy when she’d left Rodolfo and sworn off men. Still, she looked.

  Nicole started with the hanging clothes and finished with the built-in drawers. She’d only intended on searching the built-in set on the left, which was her side. When that turned up nothing, she started to head out of the closet, thinking she was just plain out of luck. But then Nicole suddenly stopped and peered at the other set of drawers. Rodolfo had always used them, and she hadn’t even looked in them since returning.

  They were probably empty, she thought, but searched them anyway. The top three wide drawers were empty as she’d expected, but the bottom drawer wasn’t. Kneeling on the carpet between the two drawer sets, which were built into the opposite walls and faced each other, she began to sort through the contents with curiosity. There was a hand-knitted afghan that her grandmother, her mother’s mother, had knitted for her before dying. It was old and a bit ratty, but Nicole had kept it for sentimental reasons and then apparently left it behind when she’d moved out so abruptly. But then, she’d moved out in a rush, eager to get out from under Rodolfo’s glowering gaze.

  Nicole was surprised Rodolfo hadn’t thrown it out on her. She would have been upset when she realized she couldn’t find it and he seemed to like to upset her. She folded the afghan neatly and set it aside, and then stared at the boots that had been covered by it. Her eyes widened as she recognized them, thigh-high black boots that were nothing but crisscrossed lacings in the front and had six inch heels. They’d had matching gloves and a top that was mostly crisscrossed lacing in the middle front from almost nipple to nipple as well. The “top” had ended just above the belly button, except for two tails that ran down over the center of the front of each leg and attached to the thigh high boots by snaps attached at the end, turning them into garters of a sort.

  Nicole had bought it for her and Rodolfo’s first Halloween together with no intention of wearing it anywhere but the bedroom. As she recalled, she’d felt super sexy in it too when she’d tried it on. She’d intended to greet Rodolfo at the door in it on Halloween. Unfortunately, they’d had a big fight when she’d got up that day. Rodolfo had taken off in a snit and hadn’t returned until the next day. The costume had never got worn.

  Maybe that was fortunate, Nicole thought as she lifted out one of the boots and found the costume itself tangled in with the lacings. The gloves were caught up in the other boot. Which meant the only thing missing were the tiny black panties. But she had black panties, Nicole thought, and bit her lip, wondering if she had the courage to wear it for Jake.

  If she did, she probably wouldn’t have to apologize, Nicole thought with amusement. She glanced back to the drawer as she set the second boot on the floor and smiled when she spotted the fedora that went with the costume at the back of the drawer. The fact that it was all here and that Rodolfo hadn’t tossed it seemed to her to be a sign that she should wear it. Not that she’d probably wear it long.

  Gathering the costume’s bits, Nicole stood, retrieved a fresh pair of black panties from her top drawer, then carried everything out to the en suite bathroom. She managed to take a quick shower without getting her hair wet, thanks to a shower cap, and then she dusted herself with baby powder and slipped into the costume.

  One look at herself in the mirror and Nicole nearly chickened out. Geez, the costume didn’t hide much, and she appeared to have a lot of flesh to show. She shifted briefly, torn, and then muttered “screw it,” straightened her shoulders, and headed out of her room.

  Nicole spotted Jake disappearing into the kitchen as she opened her door, and was glad she hadn’t come out sooner. She would have felt stupid standing around in the kitchen waiting for him, and she definitely wouldn’t have wanted to search the house for him in case the twins or one of his other family members returned and caught her like this.

  That thought made her realize that her original plan was not going to work here. She would have to walk into the kitchen, smile and then hurry back to the bedroom, hopefully, with him following. There was no way that straightening this outfit and offering an innocent smile would convince anyone she wasn’t up to anything. One look at her and they’d know what they’d been up to, or at least what she’d planned.

  “Who are you?”

  Nicole had been approaching the kitchen door, but paused before reaching it when she heard Jake ask that question.

  It was quickly followed by, “Did Nicole let you in?”

  “No.”

  “Then how—” Jake cut himself off and said, “The sliding glass doors.”

  “Yes. It was kind of you to leave them open for me.”

  Nicole frowned at the tone of voice, it was mocking and amused.

  Moving close to the wall, she eased the last few feet to the kitchen doorway and snuck a quick peak into the room. Jake was standing a couple of feet inside the kitchen, with his back to her. The other man sat at the kitchen table, lounging sideways to the door in one chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles on another. She could see that he wore jeans, and a leather bomber over a T-shirt. His body looked completely relaxed. She couldn’t say what his expression was, though, Jake’s body blocked his head from her view.

  “It wasn’t for you,” Jake said grimly. “It was to air out the room.”

  “Still,” the man said, and though Nicole couldn’t see him, she was pretty sure he was grinning as he added, “I appreciate it.”

  Nicole eased back out of sight of the kitchen. She didn’t think the man could see her, but if Jake had moved just the smallest amount to the right he would have.

  Shifting anxiously from foot to foot, she debated what to do. It seemed obvious to her that the man in the kitchen must be the one behind the hot-tub poisoning and the car accident. Nice, normal people simply didn’t saunter into just any open door in homes that weren’t theirs. What she didn’t understand was why Jake was asking questions instead of taking control of the man’s mind.

  The obvious answer was that he couldn’t, and as far as she knew, that only happened with life mates or older immortals. Had an immortal been trying to kill her? And if so, why? For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t even known about immortals until this last week, and was pretty sure she hadn’t met any besides Marguerite and this crew.

  “Who are you?” Jake’s voice sounded grim.

  “You asked that already,” the other man pointed out lightly.

  Nicole turned and slid back along the wall to her room. She had to help Jake, but how? She glanced to the sliding doors in her room. They led out to the deck, which wrapped a
round the back of the house and up the side to the sliding doors in the kitchen. If the doors were still open—

  Nicole started toward the doors, but then paused before stepping out. She needed a weapon. Turning, she glanced around the bedroom, looking for something hefty, but it was a bedroom, for heaven’s sake, not a weapons locker. Her gaze slid from the bed to the television to the couch. There was nothing she could see that would be useful. There weren’t even any lamps in the room; wall sconces were set into the walls on either side of the couch, as well as the bed, to remove the necessity of lamps.

  Her mouth tightened with annoyance and then her gaze slid to the bed again and she eyed the pillows. They were rather special; quilted cloth on the outside with a water bladder inside. The user filled them with water to reach the firmness they desired. A couple quarts made a soft pillow, three quarts made it medium, and five quarts made it firm. Nicole liked hers firm. She had five quarts in hers. That was more than a gallon of water. It weighed a good ten pounds, she would guess.

  Moving up the bed, Nicole grabbed one of them, and headed out of the room through the sliding glass doors.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed on the intruder’s wide unpleasant smile. His voice was deep and raspy, as if he spent a lot of time screaming at the top of his lungs. Jake had heard that voice before, but where didn’t come to him right away. It was recently though.

  “You ruined everything. Stopped me from carrying out what I was put on this earth to do, and yet—barely a week later—you don’t even remember me,” the man said bitterly.

  Jake eyed him warily. He’d been trying to get into the man’s thoughts to read and control him since entering the kitchen, but it was like trying to navigate the ocean in a fog with no compass or sonar . . . and there were monsters coming out of that fog, accompanied by agonized shrieks. The man wasn’t in his right mind. That was the only explanation. Jake had always heard that it was hard to the point of impossible for an immortal to read or control a crazy person. Now he understood why.

  Jake opened his mouth to admit that, no, he didn’t recognize him, when he suddenly did.

  “Ball-Cap Boy,” he murmured, recognizing him as the man who had intended to shoot the client he was suppose to protect, and who he’d tackled his last night on the job before meeting Marguerite for dinner. Tilting his head, he asked, “Why aren’t you in jail?”

  Ball-Cap Boy gave a short laugh. “For what? I didn’t get the chance to do anything. All they could charge me with was the improper transportation of a registered weapon.”

  “Registered?” Jake asked with a frown.

  “Yes. You see, there’s a law that if you work in a remote wilderness area, where your life can be under threat by wild animals, you can get a special license to carry weapons, like rifles and handguns.”

  “And you have one of those special licenses,” Jake guessed dryly. He now understood the old saying “crazy like a fox.” The bastard might be nuts, but he was smart too.

  “Yes, sir, I do,” he said with a grin so wide it was almost painful to see. “That and a family with the resources to hire an excellent lawyer who is quick and very good. I was out within hours.”

  Jake was really beginning to dislike this guy’s smile.

  “Of course, it helped that the security tape showed you moving toward me before I even reached to adjust my gun so it was no longer digging into my ribs.” He smiled and offered, “Well, at least that’s what I told them I was doing.”

  Jake didn’t respond to the comment. He was trying to decide what to do. The man had had a gun before and probably did now, no doubt tucked into the arms he presently had crossed. Jake wasn’t too concerned about being shot dead, that wasn’t a worry unless Ball-Cap Boy blew his head completely off, which would take a sawed-off shotgun or an equally powerful weapon, he was sure, and this man couldn’t be hiding one of those on his person. Jake suspected he had his handgun though, and while that wouldn’t blow his head off, it could incapacitate him temporarily and leave Nicole alone in the house and at the mercy of this nut. He didn’t want to risk that, so had to move carefully.

  “It also helped that I told them that I’d run into you before,” Ball-Cap Boy continued conversationally. “When I was out on a date with your live-in girlfriend.” He grinned widely. “And that you’ve had it in for me ever since.”

  Jake didn’t react on the outside, but inside he was mentally kicking himself. He often had dealings with the police on the job, and knew a good number of them by name. However, busy feeling sorry for himself as he’d been, and thinking himself a monster, Jake hadn’t encouraged any friendships since leaving California. So, while many of the officers had given some personal details about their lives in an offer of friendship, mentioning wives, girlfriends, or kids, Jake hadn’t responded in kind. As Dan had said in the elevator the day they’d encountered this man, he didn’t know a thing about him and had thought him without family. It would be the same with the police. Had he bothered to befriend the men he worked with and encountered on the job, they’d have known this man was lying about a live-in and hesitated to let him go to cause trouble again.

  “How did you find me here?” Jake asked abruptly, turning his attention to the situation at hand. Self-flagellation was really a waste of time and useless in a situation like this. He could kick himself later.

  “The angels led me to you.”

  Jake was aware that his eyelids flickered at this claim, but all he said was, “Oh?”

  “Hmmm.” The man nodded. “My lawyer wanted to talk after he got me released. He took me to a bar downtown and sat trying to convince me to let my parents help me, which translates to locking me up,” he added bitterly and began to rant. “They don’t believe the angels talk to me through the radio and that I have a purpose in this life. They think I’m crazy, that I’ve spent too much time alone up north and it’s affected me. That I need to take those stupid pills the doctor gave me again. But I’ll show them. They’ll understand when I carry out the charge I’ve been given. You screwed up the first service I was supposed to perform to make this a better world, and for a minute my faith was shaken. How could God allow that when I was doing his work? But when I saw you coming out of that restaurant across the street with that brunette, I knew the angels had led me there. I understood that the devil would, of course, not want me to carry out my mission, and that you and everyone you associate with are in league with him.”

  Crazy as a loon, Jake thought grimly, but knew the brunette that Ball-Cap Boy had seen him with was Marguerite, when they’d left the restaurant where they’d dined together.

  “So you followed us,” Jake guessed. It was the only explanation.

  Ball-Cap Boy nodded. “I left the lawyer with his mouth wide open and followed you. I had to hire a taxi to do it.” He smiled. “I told the taxi driver the brunette was my wife and the two of you were having an affair. He was very sympathetic. It seems his wife ‘stepped out’ on him, as he put it.” He shrugged. “We followed you to that car rental place and while she was returning her car, I rented one, and then I followed you back here.”

  “And poisoned the hot tub?” Jake asked, and then said with certainty, “No, not then. You didn’t have the poison with you in the rental car.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But I saw the hot tub that night. Disgusting things,” he added with a shudder. “Only whores and whoresons use those. Poisoning it was the only thing to do.”

  Jake frowned. He was recalling his first night here when he’d arrived with Marguerite. The door had been unlocked when they’d arrived, he recalled. They’d locked it, and then when he’d checked later it was unlocked again.

  “You followed us here, you weren’t here before us?” he asked, despite knowing he couldn’t have been.

  Ball-Cap Boy looked at Jake as if he were the one who was crazy. “I told you I followed you. The angels led me to you, they don’t give out addresses.”

  Jake
didn’t react to that, his thoughts were on the fact that the door had been unlocked when they’d arrived. Nicole had claimed she’d locked it behind Marguerite when she’d left, but it had been unlocked when they’d arrived. The only answer was either Nicole had only thought she’d locked it, or she’d locked it and then unintentionally unlocked it when she’d turned the key back to take it out of the lock. But he knew Marguerite had locked it when they’d entered. He’d even checked it himself afterward. Yet it had been unlocked again later.

  “You were in the house,” he said with certainty.

  “The studio door was cracked open.”

  Jake frowned. Marguerite had searched the main floor while he took the upper when their calls hadn’t drawn Nicole out. Marguerite must have just stuck her head into the studio, or maybe she even just glanced through the French doors. Whichever the case, she hadn’t noticed the sliding glass doors being open.

  “I was really impressed with the girl’s paintings,” Ball-Cap Boy said now, surprise in his voice. “I expected them to be orgy scenes and such, but they were well-done portraits. Of course, I realized then that the angels had left the door open for me so I could see my next targets. Obviously, a servant of Satan would only paint other minions of hell.”

  “Christ,” Jake muttered, thinking of the portrait of Christian and Caro. The man was saying they were now a target too, along with the actress and the politician.

  “Don’t you dare utter Christ’s name in vain,” Ball-Cap Boy barked, suddenly on his feet, the gun Jake had been sure he had in view and pointing straight at him. Ball-Cap Boy had held it tucked between his arms and body, hidden until he was ready to reveal it, which was exactly what Jake had suspected.

  He eyed the weapon warily, very aware that Nicole, as one of Satan’s minions, was also a target now. He definitely couldn’t afford to be incapacitated, even for moments. Trying to turn the man’s thoughts from his anger and get answers at the same time, Jake asked, “Did the angels lead you out of the house through the front door?”