by Leia Shaw
With an exasperated sigh, she said, “I know that. But how am I supposed to protect myself if you attack me by accident? What if I get a cut and you go all…vampire crazy?”
“Vampire crazy?”
“Yeah, like sharks in a feeding frenzy.”
It took all his restraint not to laugh out loud again. Humans watch far too much television. “Querida, your imagination is out of control. I will not drink from you, no matter how much you bleed. I give you my word.”
“That means jack-squat to me.”
“Jack who?”
“I’m saying I don’t trust your word.”
He sighed realizing she wasn’t going to let this go. When he spied the necklace dangling on her chest he said, “Your necklace, is it silver?”
She fingered it. “Yes.”
“Give it to me.” He put out a hand.
“Why?”
His voice softened. “So mistrustful.” She nibbled on her nail again. “Do you want to know how you can protect yourself from a vampire?”
With a nod she unhooked the necklace – an oval locket hanging from a platinum chain – and held it out to him. Muscles tensed in preparation for the pain. He grasped the chain with his fingers then draped the locket on his arm to demonstrate the effect silver had on vampires. He watched her face to distract him from the blistering pain as the layers of skin began to sizzle and peel away. She gasped then yanked the necklace away.
“Are you okay?” Taking his hand in her tiny one, she pulled it close to inspect the wounds. Her hands were soft like velvet against his course skin. It was almost worth the searing pain just to feel her touch.
When his arm healed before her eyes she gave him a stern look. “Why did you do that?” Her concern for him was so heart-warming he had the sudden urge to pull her into his arms and kiss the fear right out of her.
“To show you that you already have a weapon against me. In case I go ‘vampire crazy’. Do you feel better now?”
She shrugged.
“Do you still have need for a gun?” He couldn’t stop his lip from twitching in amusement.
She hesitated. “You promise to keep your fangs to yourself?”
As much as he’d love to do exactly the opposite of that, he nodded and put a hand to his heart. “I promise, querida.”
***
Erin knew any sane person would have been as comfortable traveling with a vampire as with a self-confessed serial killer. And she was probably the biggest moron in the universe for placing her safety in the hands of a six and a half foot tall vampire, but what other choice did she have? Besides, Marcelo didn’t seem like he’d be taking no for an answer.
When they reached her car, an old beat up silver Hyundai Accent, she went to open the driver’s side door. She barely felt him behind her when a big palm landed on the handle. She looked up into the dark, predatory face staring down at her.
“I will be driving,” he said, his eyes daring her to challenge him.
“It’s my car.”
“You are a human. I would not put my life in your incapable hands.”
She placed a hand on her hip. “Aren’t you immortal?”
He grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. His lips may have been smiling but his eyes were warning. “I would not put your life in your incapable hands. I’m in charge of your safety now, which means I am in charge of you. I’ve never lost someone in my care before and I have no intention of starting now.” He thrust his open hand towards her. “Now hand me the keys.”
Her chest tightened and she had to force air into her lungs. Not because of a panic attack but for an entirely different reason. Anger flooded her. She couldn’t hold back a response to his blatant disrespect, not even if she had to tolerate him temporarily. They needed to get a few things straight.
“Not only is that insulting but do you really think to order me around this whole trip? That may work on other ‘females’, as you say, but it will not work on me!”
Marcelo’s eyes darkened and narrowed, his teeth snapped together echoing across the parking lot. She gulped. Perhaps provoking the vampire was a bad idea, she thought as the image of poking a wild bear with a stick came to mind. Subconsciously she grabbed onto her locket. He didn’t miss that, and she thought she saw a flash of humor in his eyes before it was gone. Replaced with a sort of lustful anger.
With his chest only inches from her face, he bent down and whispered in her ear, “Under normal circumstances, querida, should you have an issue with my request, I would seduce you, doing unimaginable things to your body that would make your toes curl until you did as I please.” A shudder traveled the length of her spine. “But since you are in danger – something you forget far too easily – I will be giving orders and you will be following them.”
Her mouth snapped open in shock. She wasn’t sure what was worse, that she was scared shitless or curious about this toe curling.
Marcelo stepped back, keeping that black look on her. “If you have a problem with that, take it up with your sister. She’s the one who sent me.”
Erin forced her mouth to close and squared her shoulders. “I will take it up with her. Give me my phone so I can call her and have her send someone else in your place.”
“No.”
Surely he’s jesting. “No?”
“That’s what I said.” He crossed his arms in front of his massive chest.
“How am I supposed to take it up with her if you won’t let me talk to her?”
“I’m sure she’s indisposed at the moment so you will just have to wait until you see her in a few days.”
Erin’s eyes grew wide. “But…that…doesn’t even –” She sputtered through an incoherent sentence. She was so mad she actually stomped a foot.
“Until then, my rules. Now hand me the keys.” A cocky smirk crossed the vampire’s face. She wanted to wipe it right off with her fist, which shocked her. She wasn’t normally a violent person.
Cursing under her breath she slapped her keys into his palm and slid into the passenger seat, slumping down with her arms crossed. “When does the flight leave for Colorado? I can’t wait to be done with this.”
He didn’t answer. Worse, he seemed hesitant. Like he was holding back information she wouldn’t like.
“We don’t have tickets, do we?” she guessed. When he still didn’t answer she knew she was right. “If you take me to my apartment we can buy airplane tickets and I can pack some clothes.”
“Your apartment? Don’t you think the Counsel is already waiting for you there? Do you have any sense of self-preservation?”
“How will you buy tickets? Unless you have a smart phone, which I don’t –”
“We’re not flying. We’re driving.”
She shot upright in her seat. “What? You can’t be serious! That will take forever!”
He jammed the keys in the ignition and her car thundered to life. Marcelo’s body shook from the vibrations of a motor with a blown piston. The engine roared, the gear shift fought to stay in first, the back window was jammed half open, and the heat was stuck on full blast. Yes, her car was a beast. Slowly she turned her head and gave him the biggest, cheekiest grin she could. The look on his face was priceless.
“Still want to drive to Colorado?” she asked, smiling brightly.
With a grunt he forced the stubborn shifter into reverse and backed out of the parking spot so fast Erin flew forward and might have gone through the windshield had Marcelo not stopped her with an arm across her chest. He slammed on the brakes, grabbed her seat belt, pulled it around her body then snapped it in place. It all happened so fast she hadn’t even finished drawing in a breath.
“Safety first,” he chirped in a perky voice that made her want to run him over with the car. “Now, do you really think I’m going to take someone prone to panic attacks on an airplane?”
Erin had never flown before, but she and Jimmy had been saving to take a trip to California next summer so she’d already put some
thought into how to handle flying. “That’s what the little bottles of alcohol are for. I’ll just take my anti-anxiety meds before the flight then keep me loaded and I’ll be fine.”
He scowled down at her.
“Think about it,” she said. “It will be at least four days stuck in a car. With me. If we fly, that’s three days off our trip.”
He sighed heavily, his scowl deepening. “Fine. We will fly. But no alcohol!”
That was going to be a problem. “Marcelo, I need alcohol and my medication to get on an airplane. There is no way around it.”
“I said no. You will just have to do without.”
“You can’t force me onto an airplane, I’m pretty sure they frown on th –”
“I will not be forcing you. I have leverage.”
He meant Sage, of course. Fear and desperation coursed through her. Her breaths came faster, her cheeks heated, and she suddenly wanted to hit something. Or someone.
“If you try to force me onto that plane, Marcelo, I swear to you I will scream in the security line that you’re a terrorist and…and…that you have nail clippers in your bag!”
She thought he was simply annoyed before, but now there was no mistaking his fury. But it was a quiet fury, which was often worse. “You dare threaten me? You will find, querida, that when it comes to dealing with vampires, it’s best just to do as you’re told.”
She gulped but jutted her chin out in defiance. “You even look like a terrorist. That will work to my advantage.”
He growled low in his throat and gripped the steering wheel so hard she thought it might crack under his palm. “All right. You can have one or two drinks before the flight.”
“And my medicine?”
He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Are you afraid then?” She tsked under her tongue. “Damn, I thought Sage would have sent the best. Well, I guess I understand. I’ve heard that sorcerers are very powerful. They could probably kick your ass without even touching you, couldn’t they?”
His jaw tightened, and, in a voice strained with fury, he said, “Where’s your bloody apartment?”
Chapter 2
Marcelo had never felt so out of sorts. Everything about this task was becoming uncomfortable. Flying. Taking Erin to her apartment though sorcerers and werewolves were doubtless looking for her. Being manipulated by a mere mortal. He cursed in a multitude of languages while running a hand through his hair.
As if that weren’t enough, now he was escorting a girl with anxiety and a budding alcohol problem. It was clear Erin was using it as medication. Hopefully, Sage could rid her of that habit. He shook his head. Not my problem. Other than when they were on the airplane she would not be drinking near him and that was final.
Marcelo paced across the confines of the small bedroom in Erin’s apartment as she chewed her nails waiting for the plane tickets to print. At least her human boyfriend wasn’t home to complicate things. Anger seethed through him at the thought. Some boyfriend. He left his woman alone all night knowing she’d planned to go to a bar dressed as rape bait with the goal of getting drunk. The man shouldn’t be allowed to live. He brushed the feelings off. Not my problem, he told himself. Again.
“Are you almost done?” he snapped.
She nodded, rising from the computer. “I just need to pack some clothes.”
“Hurry up.” He resumed his pacing while she rummaged through her closet. How would he get through the next few days with a woman who couldn’t even step foot in a gas station? He replayed the conversation she’d had with Sage in the hotel. Sage had been able to calm her sister down. As a last resort he could get her back on the phone. “Why did Sage call you Dot?”
Erin looked puzzled for a moment, then mumbled, “Eavesdropper.” A duffle bag sat open on her bed and she stuffed handfuls of clothing into it. “Animaniacs.”
“What?”
“The nickname Dot is from the cartoon show, Animaniacs. It’s about two brothers, Wakko and Yakko, and their sister Dot.”
“And did Sage get a nickname from this show?”
“Brain,” she answered. When he arched a brow she explained, “An evil genius lab rat always plotting to take over the world.”
“Fitting.” Eerily so. “And this is a popular TV show?”
“Umm…well…it has a cult following.”
“I see.” He fought to keep a smile from his lips. “Are you almost done, Dot?”
She cast him a look that said she wasn’t amused then shoved some bottles of feminine stuff into her almost full bag.
“You have two minutes,” he told her, resuming his trek across the room.
He froze when a thud followed by shushing sounded outside the apartment door. His nostrils flared as he took a great big whiff of the air. Not vampires. Not werewolves. Most likely the sorcerers had returned for Erin. She watched him closely, her hands fisted around the handles of her bag. Then he shoved her so fast towards the bedroom window, the bag slipped from her hand and dropped to the floor. Marcelo didn’t give it a second thought.
“Wait!” she yelled, jerking away from him. “My stuff!”
“Leave it.” His hand shackled her wrist as he kicked the screen out of the window. He released her only long enough to climb out onto the fire escape. With a look that dared her to defy him he snarled, “Out. Now.”
“Not without my medication.” She scrambled away from the window as the front door burst open. The bedroom door was closed, which gave them mere seconds to get away without bloodshed. Before Marcelo could stop her, Erin ran into the attached bathroom.
“Get back here!” he hissed. So much for no bloodshed. I might just kill her myself. He started to climb back through the small window to haul her out of the apartment by force when the bedroom door splintered and in marched three male sorcerers, dressed all in black.
Having the ability to manipulate the air’s electricity, they already had balls of light in their palms ready to hurl at Marcelo. He moved at a speed no sorcerer could match, sprinting into the bathroom after Erin. Depending on their strength, the sorcerers could actually be a danger to them both. They needed to get out of there. Fast.
In the bathroom Erin scavenged through the medicine cabinet. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her into a linen closet.
“Don’t you dare move until I come for you,” he told her sharply. Without giving her a chance to respond, he slammed the closet door and walked back into the bedroom.
No more than a blur Marcelo raced behind first one, then two of the sorcerers, snapping their necks easily. He eyed the other two, spread out on opposite sides of the room. He couldn’t reach them both at the same time. One motioned the other towards the bathroom. Decisions, decisions.
In a fraction of a second he was behind the sorcerer who’d moved to the bathroom doorway. He raised an arm overhead then stopped when pain erupted on the side of his lower back. Breath left him in a rush as he leaned against the door jam. He was on fire, only there were no flames. Painful sparks shot through his body, electrical jolts rattling against his bones. There was no mistaking it – he’d been hit with a sorcerer’s Bolt. No, merely grazed by it. Lucky him.
He pushed back the pain to deliver a punishing blow to the sorcerer’s temple just as he reached to open the closet door. The body slapped against the wooden door then slid down to the ground.
One sorcerer left. Marcelo had reached the end of his patience. He stalked back to the bedroom where a yellow-haired sorcerer with dark glasses barked into his cell phone for back up. Fury pulsed through his veins, his back burned, blood dripped on the carpet. The phone dropped to the ground as light exploded in the sorcerer’s hands.
After he gracefully dodged the first strike, Marcelo picked up the nearest hard object, never taking his eyes off his assailant, and flung it at the sorcerer. A small bottle of pink lotion bounced anticlimactically off of the man’s chest. Marcelo sighed. The sorcerer gave him a confused look before launching another Bolt. H
e ducked then took a good look at the object he threw next. The lamp hit the sorcerer square in the head. He stumbled giving Marcelo just the opening he needed to finish him.
He fed while he had the opportunity, draining the lifeless body. A supernatural’s blood was richer than a human’s. The taste had a finer quality as well as being more powerful, which would quicken his healing time. He wiped any lingering blood from his lips so he wouldn’t scare Erin then did a mental scan of the apartment and the hallway. There were no immediate threats but that wouldn’t last long. Calm and cool, he walked to the closet where he’d left Erin, kicked the unconscious body to the side, and opened the door.
The stench of fear rolled off her in waves. Her eyes flooded with relief when she looked up at him. A burst of male pride sprung forth. He was needed. A smile touched his lips before he pushed it back and put in place his usual scowl. Don’t get any stupid ideas, Marcelo. She may be a damsel in distress but you’re no Prince Charming.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her out so roughly she grunted and stumbled into him. “Let’s go.”
While he dragged her towards the bedroom window, she silently trembled behind him.
Observing the fateful scene in the bedroom, she dug in her heels. “Are they dead?” she gasped. “Did you really kill them?”
“Not all of them.” When she tried to reach down to check a pulse he gave her a yank. “We don’t have time for this!”
She ignored him pulling against his hold to reach for the phone on the desk. Part of him wanted to oblige her human need for compassion. And part of him wanted to yell at her for her ridiculous insistence on going to the apartment in the first place. If anyone was to blame for the sorcerers’ deaths, it was her. The hell if he was going to say that out loud though. Damn it! Those big brown eyes and pouty lips were making him soft.
“We have to call an ambulance,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
He swung around and whispered harshly, “They just tried to kill me, querida. And they were going to kidnap you. And now you worry for their lives? You need to get your priorities straight!”