by Devon, Cat
Some vamps got an adrenaline rush out of fighting their own kind. Humans didn’t provide enough of a challenge for them so they sought out other vampires for a sort of World Wrestling smackdown. But these guys seemed to have a more deliberate agenda.
“Who sent you?” Nick growled.
The tall one responded by attacking, fangs in full force. Nick launched him into the air with one hand before whipping around to kick the shorter vamp in his solar plexus. The third one didn’t even attempt to enter the battle.
Nick was relieved to see that this trio talked the talk but weren’t skilled enough to walk the walk. They weren’t as battle-tested as he was. It was all over in less than a minute. The outsiders wisely took off.
It took a few more minutes for Nick’s anger to abate and his fangs to retreat so that he could face Daniella. He knew that his eyes had darkened to a feral glow, and he could feel them returning to their normal state. But still he waited. He couldn’t risk the chance that Daniella would see him for what he was. Finally he felt normal. Which was a lie. Nothing about him was normal.
“It’s Nick. Let me in,” he told Daniella through the locked back door.
She quickly obeyed. “The police are on their way. What happened out there? The light went out and I couldn’t tell what was going on.”
Instead of answering, Nick asked his own question. “What were you thinking going out there by yourself?”
“I heard a noise and I thought it was you.”
“Your ESP couldn’t warn you that it wasn’t me?”
“I told you before, I don’t have ESP.”
“Obviously,” he said. He wished he knew who had sent the trio to check her out. This latest development was not a good one.
“So are you going to tell me what happened?” she said. “Who were they? What did they want?”
“They were just a bunch of thugs lurking about and looking for trouble,” he said.
“Were they gang bangers?”
He shrugged. Vampires felt a loyalty to their clans that gangs shared. He knew there were some gang members who were also vamps. “They’re gone now,” he said.
“What if they come back?” She sounded nervous.
“They won’t.” But others might. He was glad that she wasn’t acting as cocky as she had before. Going outside had been damn stupid and could have ended her life. That realization hit Nick in the gut. Humans had never been at risk in Vamptown before. The two species had always lived in relative peace. But things were changing. Rapidly.
“Why did the one guy say they came for me?” Daniella asked.
“Who knows?” Nick said, but it was a lie. He knew why they’d come. It was because they’d heard she was immune to mind compulsion and they wondered why. Such immunity was extremely rare. “He was probably high on drugs.”
“His eyes were very red, and he did seem strange,” she said.
“Drugs,” he said curtly.
“So they were drugged gang bangers lurking about? You don’t hear that much these days. Lurking about. It sounds very BBC America. Unless you’ve spent time in England?”
Nick had. Centuries ago. Not that he planned on sharing that information with her. Instead he asked, “Did they say anything to you before I arrived?”
“They just stood around looking menacing and trash talking a bit. I was trying to be nice by telling them about the nearest homeless shelter. They looked like they needed help. I didn’t realize they were gang members. What if they’d pulled a gun or something?”
It was the “or something” that worried Nick.
“If they come back, do not invite them inside,” he said.
“Do I look stupid?” she countered.
“You look like someone who’s too nice.”
She didn’t appear pleased by his observation. “What gave you that impression?”
“The fact that you told them where the nearest shelter was located.”
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Good.”
“And I’m not always nice,” she said. “I haven’t been nice to you. I didn’t bend when you tried to order me around. In fact, I’ve been described as a pit bull in pearls and a twinset where my business is concerned.”
Nick had no idea what a twinset was and he didn’t get why she seemed pleased with the analogy to a pit bull. They were hardly the cutest canines. And the cupcake maker was definitely cute … and hot and sexy. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt the attraction. She wasn’t obvious the way Tanya was. Daniella wasn’t into displaying yards of cleavage. She didn’t have to.
“I wonder where the cops are,” she said.
Nick didn’t have to wonder. He knew that Pat would have waylaid them and compelled them into believing everything was fine and the call was a false alarm.
No, the police weren’t the problem. Daniella was. Clearly he needed to watch out for her from now on, and the best way to protect her was to keep her close. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “I think you opening your store in this neighborhood is a good idea after all.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
He couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. “As you said, you’re going to open your shop whether I approve or not.”
“Right,” she said. “So there’s no logical reason why you should suddenly decide that my being here is a good idea. Were you behind the trouble here tonight?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“To scare me away.”
“Then why did I save you?” he said.
“You didn’t save me. You happened to arrive at an auspicious moment. And perhaps you did that in order to be a hero,” she said.
“Trust me, I’m nobody’s hero.”
“People in the neighborhood seem to think highly of you.”
“That should tell you something,” he said.
“It tells me you’ve got them bamboozled.” She sighed. “Okay, now I’m sounding like BBC America, too.”
“You should be glad that I’m on your side.”
“Really?” She didn’t look as impressed as he felt she should be. “Why’s that?”
His words were deliberately curt. “Because you don’t want me as your enemy.”
He saw her shiver. Good. Maybe the seriousness of the situation was finally getting through to her. The incident tonight meant that word about Daniella’s immunity to vamp compulsion had gotten out. Nick couldn’t be sure which of the rival clans of vamps had sent the troublemakers tonight.
Drawing herself up to her full height—all of five feet, seven inches—Daniella loftily informed him, “You don’t want me to be your enemy, either.”
“Agreed.” Nick could tell his response surprised her. “So aren’t you glad we can get along so much better now?”
“Are we getting along well enough that you’ll try one of my cupcakes?”
“No, but I did eat a few of the samples you left.”
“You did?”
He nodded. He was lying, of course, since vamps couldn’t eat. He hadn’t had food in ages and he missed it badly. Some of his kind considered humans to be nothing more than a source of sustenance. They looked at them and thought—lunch.
They drained them of life and blood and in doing so destroyed the last bits of humanity within themselves. Nick knew how that felt, and he’d fought it hard. That’s why he’d been so glad that Doc had discovered a way to recycle blood and keep it fresh and full of life even though it came from corpses.
Frankly, Nick didn’t like thinking about the source of his meals. Did that make him that different from meat-eating humans who didn’t want to know about animal cruelty? Yeah, it probably did, he admitted to himself. He was different from humans and always would be. He couldn’t afford to forget that.
Daniella seemed different, too. Which meant what? He had to figure that out because time was clearly running out.
“So what did you think?” Daniella asked eagerly.
“About my cupcakes? You said you tried some of the samples I left.”
“Uh, they were good.”
“Good?” She appeared insulted.
“Very good?”
“Talk about damning with faint praise,” she huffed.
He briefly considered telling her she looked cute when she was irritated but decided she’d probably brain him with a mixing bowl if he did. “They were the best cupcakes I’ve ever had.”
“Do you have a lot of them?”
“Not many.”
“Did your mom ever make them for you when you were a kid?” she asked.
“No.”
“My mom did. She used to bake cookies and cupcakes for the families of the deceased. She’d tell me, ‘I can’t bring their loved one back, but I can try to bring them some comfort.’ So from an early age, cupcakes meant comfort to me.”
It was the first time Daniella had talked about her past, and it made Nick feel as if he was finally making some progress with her.
“Your mom sounds like someone special.”
“She was. She died when I was sixteen. I still miss her. I think she’d be very proud of what I’m doing here with Heavenly Cupcakes.”
“I’m sure she would,” Nick said.
“What about your parents?” she asked. “Are they from Chicago? Are they proud of you opening your bar and grill?”
“My parents are both dead.”
“Any siblings?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have any family.”
“That must be rough.”
“I manage,” he said.
“I’m sure you do. You seem like the kind of man who can deal with anything.”
“I have to.” As a vampire he couldn’t afford to show weakness.
“You also don’t seem the kind of man to suffer fools easily.”
“I never thought you were a fool.”
“Good,” she said. “Some people think I’m a pushover because of my appearance.”
“What’s wrong with your appearance?”
“Asks the man with the plastic fish and the moose head on his bar’s wall,” she said wryly.
“I’m merely saying that you look fine to me.”
“Gee, thanks.” Once again she was irritated.
What had he said wrong now? You’d think he’d know how to deal with females after two centuries. But the truth was that without mind compulsion, he was finding it much more challenging … to put it mildly.
He studied her lush mouth with the intensity of a scholar.
He detected the change in her heart rate instantly. So he did get to her. Good. That meant he had some power over her, and he intended to use it to get what he wanted. Self-preservation and the preservation of his clan demanded that he break the spell she seemed to cast over him. He needed to be the one with the upper hand. And that hand of his couldn’t be caressing her breast the way he wanted.
Nick wanted to make Daniella his, but a vampire mating with a human never worked out well. So he had to fight this attraction he had for her and instead increase her attraction for him. He could do it. He had to do it. He just needed to figure out how. And in order to that, he needed to get away from her before he tossed her onto the stainless-steel worktable and had sex with her. “Later,” he growled at her before abruptly leaving.
* * *
“The outsiders were responsible for the cameras going out, so I’ve changed the interface and passwords,” Neville told Nick as he entered the Vamp Cave. “I assume you were responsible for the streetlight going out?”
Nick nodded. “Who were they?”
“You tell me.”
“Did you get them on any of the other cameras?”
“Nothing on the city’s cameras that we’ve hacked into. But our own vamp cams did pick up something.”
Neville had developed a camera fast enough to capture the image of a vampire on the move and slow it down so that it was more easily visible.
Pat and his companion Bruce joined them. “I heard there was an altercation,” Pat said. “I took care of the police presence. Do you know who the vamps were?”
“We’re trying to get a look at them now,” Nick said.
“Got it,” Neville said. A moment later an image came up on the multiple large screens in the Vamp Cave.
“What are they wearing?” Bruce shuddered. “I hate the pants-on-the-floor look. I thought we were past that fashion faux pas. And look at the hair on that short one. It’s like steel wool. A good conditioner and an eyebrow wax would make a world of difference.”
“Recognize them?” Nick asked Pat.
Bruce answered first. “They are fashion don’ts, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t think they were worried about their looks,” Nick said.
“Clearly,” Bruce said. He might look like a linebacker for the Chicago Bears with his stout and sturdy build, but he was a self-proclaimed fashionista. Pat liked to describe his partner as a combination of toughness and tailored tenderness—part Hulk and part Armani.
“The tall one looks familiar,” Pat said. “But I can’t quite place him.”
“He seemed to be the leader of the trio,” Nick said.
“That’s the problem with living four hundred years,” Pat said. “You meet so many people and vamps it’s hard to keep them all straight. Don’t worry. It will come to me eventually. Any idea what they wanted?”
“They wanted Daniella.”
Pat’s expression was worried. “That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not,” Nick agreed.
“Did they say why they wanted her?” Pat asked.
“We didn’t stop to have a lengthy conversation about it,” Nick said. “But I got the impression that they’d heard about her immunity to vamp mind compulsion and were curious.”
Pat raised an eyebrow. “Just curious?”
Nick nodded. “For now.”
“It must have been a pretty strong curiosity for them to stray into our territory,” Pat said. “They know the rules. Each vamp tribe keeps to its own areas unless invited to do otherwise.”
“I want to know who sent them,” Nick said.
“It could be the Gold Coast vamps,” Pat said. “They don’t want to get their fangs dirty, so they send enforcers to do their dirty work.”
“The Gold Coast vamps are very natty dressers,” Bruce said. “I can’t see them hiring help wearing that attire. Tim Gunn would have a hissy fit.”
“This isn’t Project Runway,” Pat told Bruce. “This is serious business.”
“Project Runway is serious,” Bruce retorted. “I still haven’t recovered from Gretchen beating Mondo in season eight.”
“Any face recognitions yet?” Nick asked Neville.
“Not yet.”
“I suspect they’re recent,” Nick said. “They had that edginess that comes from new converts to vampirism.”
“I’ll keep checking,” Neville promised.
“Do that,” Nick said. “Because the clock is clearly ticking at a faster speed now.”
* * *
Daniella was in her shop before daylight the next morning. She kept to her usual schedule despite what had happened the previous night. She did keep her pepper spray in hand as she sprinted the few steps in the front of the building housing both her business and her apartment. She planned on avoiding the alley in the dark for the next few days.
After a successful morning creating culinary mini masterpieces, she decided to include a small and elite collection of them on her cupcake menu. The cookies ’n’ cream and the amaretto were two of her favorite concoctions in this new smaller version.
Around noon, Daniella moved to the front of the shop. She was surprised to find a young woman knocking on the door. Her dark blond hair had streaks of statement-making neon red throughout.
“We’re not open yet,” Daniella said.
The woman held up her smartphone. “I saw on Craigslist that you�
�re looking for help.”
Daniella unlocked the door and temporarily disabled the security system to let her in. Daniella had a good feeling about this applicant for some reason. Maybe it was the wild Technicolor dreamcoat she was wearing, which should have clashed with her hair but didn’t. Daniella had loved the play Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat when she’d seen it.
Once inside, the woman started reading the ad aloud. “In need of a permanent part-time worker. Must be able to frost, work with fondant, take accurate orders, be flexible, willing to get dirty, willing to put up with my entertaining singing, able to take criticism, able to handle customers, and—this is important, remember, so I’m repeating it—able to take accurate orders!” She paused before adding, “My name is Xandra Stevens and I can do all that. I worked in a cupcake shop in Vail and another in Lake Tahoe. I’m the best person for the job. I’m totally stoked about cupcakes and it looks like you are, too.”
Xandra’s energetic enthusiasm was contagious. Daniella handed her an application to fill out and watched the young woman as she sat at one of the tables by the window. She was definitely a free spirit, from the tips of her paisley boots to her dangly bottle-cap earrings.
Daniella opened her laptop and checked out the names of the cupcake stores that Xandra had listed. They were valid. She then Googled Xandra’s name and found her photo on the blogs of both stores with high praise for her.
“Why did you leave Vail and Lake Tahoe?” Daniella asked.
“It was too expensive,” Xandra said. “I had to come back home and move in with my parents.”
“How do I know you won’t take off for the slopes as soon as you have enough money?”
“I’m not a skier or snowboarder myself. I just liked to watch. I actually do have a plan. I plan on returning out west when I’m twenty-five.”
“How would you deal with an unhappy customer?” Daniella asked.
“It depends on what made them unhappy, but I’d try to help them in any way I could. Maybe they are just having a bad day—but that doesn’t mean that I can just dismiss their complaint. I’d do whatever I could to make them chill out.”
Daniella was impressed. The only other applicant had answered by saying “What do you expect me to do about it?” in a defensively crabby way.