Tall, Dark & Fangsome

by Michelle Rowen

  Gideon Chase, wearing a scarf over his scarred face to hide his true identity, had convinced me he was the Red Devil—in fact, he’d saved my life when I’d been staked so he could gain my confidence. But the real Red Devil was now in Toronto? Stop the presses.

  “Who is he?” I asked.

  “His identity is secret.”

  “So you don’t know who he is? How did you contact him?”

  “We have a mutual connection.”

  “Who?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “I know,” he said. But he didn’t go into any further detail.

  I pushed my frustration at his vague answers away. Or tried to, anyhow. “What’s he doing here? Or is that a secret as well?”

  “I wanted him to assess the situation with Gideon. I thought it also important for him to keep an eye on you and he has agreed to this.”

  I felt stunned. “Are you trying to tell me that the Red Devil is my shiny new bodyguard?”

  “He promises to be very discreet. You won’t even know he’s around.”

  I leaned back against the cold wall behind me and tried to process this info. The legendary, reclusive Red Devil was my bodyguard? And Thierry was acting as if this was a completely normal decision?

  “You trust this guy?” I asked.

  “Implicitly.”

  He sounded pretty certain about it. But how could he trust somebody who’d been off the map for a century? Somebody who’d just pop up thanks to a well-timed phone call?

  “Where is he right now?”

  “Close. It’s best you know as little as possible, Sarah. It’s safer that way.”

  “For him or for me?”

  “Definitely both.” He hooked a finger under my gold chain. He knew what it was and what it did. When I didn’t have it and was acting all murderous and deadly and seductive, he’d done everything in his power to find a solution. Although truthfully, I think he kind of liked the seductive part.

  “If I learn anything new I will contact you as soon as I can,” he said.

  “Same here.” The fresh guilt at not telling him about my strange new job as Gideon’s assistant ate at me. It was on the tip of my tongue but I didn’t want to worry him more than he already was. “I love you, Thierry.”

  He touched my face softly and slid his thumb over my bottom lip. “I love you, too.”

  And, with a last kiss, he was gone.

  Well, he didn’t just disappear, but he could walk really fast. I watched his dark form move away into the shadows.

  Then I slowly trudged back around the side of the building until I’d nearly reached the front doors. A woman was being unceremoniously kicked out of the club by the big, brawny bouncer.

  “Go home and don’t come back,” he advised her harshly. “We don’t want you here.”

  She hurled a couple of choice expletives at him and turned her back, stomping away down the dark street in a short red minidress and silver stilettos.

  “Nice girl,” I said.

  “Fledgling vamp caught her sire cheating on her,” the bouncer explained. “She’d only been turned a few nights ago. She made a scene and nearly bit the chick the guy was with tonight.” He swept his gaze over me. “You’re the Slayer of Slayers, aren’t you?”

  Oh, brother. Just what I needed. A fanboy.

  I shook my head. “You know, I actually get that all the time. We’re both brunettes and there is a fleeting resemblance. I saw her once, but she’s kind of ugly. Probably from all that slayer slaying.”

  “If you say so.” The bouncer shrugged. “You coming back in, or what?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced over in the direction of the jilted fledgling and I noticed two men a block up step out from a dark alley and begin to silently trail after the oblivious vampiress. “Hey, check that out. Do you think those are hunters?”

  He followed my line of sight. “Could be.”

  I looked at him. “Don’t you want to do something about it? She’s a helpless fledgling out on her own. They’ll kill her.”

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  “Go save her?”

  He laughed. “Not going to happen. I don’t think they saw where she came from, and I’m not getting a stake through my chest tonight for trying to save some worthless bitch.”

  “Oh, that’s really charming.”

  He smiled thinly at me. “For fifteen bucks an hour I don’t have to be charming. Why don’t you go save her?”

  I narrowed my gaze at him. “Maybe I will.”

  “Good luck with that.” He turned around and slipped back inside the club. The door closed heavily behind him leaving me out in the cold night alone.

  I scanned the street again. No one was around. It wasn’t that long ago that I was the hapless fledgling who wandered dark and lonely places I shouldn’t go.

  Since then, I’d aged. I’d matured. I would eternally look twenty-eight years old, but I’d been through enough stress in the past three months to give me gray hair. Metaphorically speaking, that is. Thankfully, I had no gray hair, and if I did I’d totally dye it back to normal.

  But that was neither here nor there.

  I began following the girl and her stalkers. Maybe it was just my overworked imagination that she was in danger. They were probably just heading in the same direction, was all. Nothing to be concerned with. Paranoia was one of my closest pals lately, although normally I had it about myself, not somebody I didn’t even know.

  It was a gut thing. I had to know. Something felt terribly off.

  I’d check it out, make sure the girl was safe and sound, and then I’d go back to the club and pretend to have a good time.

  And then I heard a shriek: female. And a laugh: male.

  Shit.

  I picked up my pace and my breathing increased. Damn that bouncer for not helping out. I was right. The girl was in trouble, and now what?

  Save the fledgling, save the world. Did I look like a superhero?

  As much as I’d like to think I was tough and able to bravely face off against those who’d harm others, I knew I didn’t have a chance in hell against the hunters. They were two big, muscular guys, and I was… well, me. And I’d be willing to bet each of them had done this many times before.

  Unfortunately, there was no time for me to go back to the club and get reinforcements, and from the terrified whimpering I now heard just around the corner in the alleyway where the hunters had cornered the fledgling, I had only seconds to decide what to do next.

  Maybe I should have turned my back and run away. There’d been plenty of vamps who’d found themselves on the sharp end of a stake since I’d been sired. But this… this was different. It was here, it was now, and I couldn’t simply walk away and pretend it never happened.

  The girl let out another frightened scream and the decision was made. There was one way I knew how to be a bit tougher than I naturally was. It wouldn’t hurt if I did it just once, would it?

  I sure hoped not.

  Cursing under my breath, I reached back and undid the clasp of my gold chain with shaking fingers. It slipped off my throat. I slid it into my purse for safekeeping.

  It was a bit like Diana Prince spinning around three times to become Wonder Woman, only I wasn’t suddenly wearing a shiny red, white, and blue leotard with a magical golden lasso and tiara. My change was a little more subtle than that.

  I’d tested taking off the gold chain a couple of times since I got it. In the beginning, my nightwalker symptoms took a while to completely manifest in all their nasty glory. But now they came on me almost immediately. It was dangerous—mostly for other people—so I didn’t play around with it much.

  It started with my vision closing in on either side so I could keep my prey in sight. No distractions. Clear, predatory focus. My heartbeat came to a slow stop. Or almost a stop. A vampire’s heart beats slower than a human’s, but now my heart, without the chain, would beat approximately four times an hour. N
ightwalkers weren’t living beings like regular vampires. Nightwalkers were the reason regular vamps had the reputation of being undead. Barely a heartbeat and no real need to breathe.

  Only a desire to feed.

  Horror movie: table for one.

  Being a nightwalker was scary as hell, but that was the rational Sarah talking. Without the chain I wasn’t all that rational. But I was still in control.

  At least, for short periods of time.

  Hopefully this wouldn’t take very long.

  Chapter 2

  One of the hunters leered at the terrified fledgling. “You have a nice body for a bloodsucker.”

  “Leave me alone!” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “She is mighty pretty,” the other hunter agreed. “Fresh, too. I’d say the evil thing is less than a week old. She doesn’t even have her fangs yet.”

  “Vampires aren’t evil! Please, you have to believe me.”

  “Sure, we believe you.” The hunters exchanged a droll look. “She’s not even denying being a vamp. That makes it way simpler. No unfortunate mistakes.”

  “Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged.

  “Do you want to see my stake, honey? I’ll bet it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I said dryly from behind them.

  They turned to look at me.

  It was dark in the alley, but I could see them as clear as day. Nightwalker eyesight was better than night-vision goggles. One had a bald head and a precisely shaved goatee and the other had long shaggy hair that touched his shoulders and an angry-looking scar on his right cheekbone. They held no fear in their eyes as they looked me up and down.

  “One for me and one for you,” Baldy said to his friend. “This is going to be a fun night.”

  “Wouldn’t count on that.” My attention drifted from his ugly face to the subtle throb at the side of his throat. I sensed the blood racing through his veins just below the surface. My senses were way more acute in nightwalker mode. It was as helpful as it was distracting.

  “Check out her eyes,” the second hunter hissed, and I could finally detect a trace of fear in his voice. “They’re black. She must be really hungry. That’s not good.”

  “Don’t be such a wimp,” Baldy scoffed. He pulled his allegedly monstrous-sized stake out of a holder on his belt—as expected, not all that impressive—and confidently approached me.

  “See this?” He indicated the stake. “Do you know how many bloodsuckers I’ve killed with this thing? It’s my lucky stake. I whittled it myself.”

  I rolled my pitch-black eyes. “You’re a regular Martha Stewart. Do you keep a scrapbook, too?”

  “Shut up, bitch.”

  “Please help me!” The fledgling’s voice shook, her attention now fully focused on her potential rescuer, aka: me.

  “Just a minute.” I felt bad for her—this small, pale, shivering thing with really bad hair and supremely tacky shoes. A couple of months ago that was me. Except for the bad hair and shoes, of course.

  The bald hunter laughed. “You’re going to help her? Is that why you’re here? To rescue one of your own kind? How sweet.”

  “Why do hunters talk so much?” I asked. “All talk, no action. Yawn.”

  “Dude,” the shaggier of the two said. “Didn’t you hear me? Her eyes are black. She’s dangerous. Don’t provoke her. Maybe we should take off. I don’t feel good about this.”

  “Your friend is way smarter than he looks.” I couldn’t stop studying Baldy’s deliciously exposed throat above the line of his leather jacket. “Why don’t I give you a chance? Leave now with the promise to never kill another vampire and we won’t have a problem.”

  Baldy laughed louder at that. “Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?”

  “I’m the Slayer of Slayers, asshole. Ever heard of me?”

  That stopped him for a moment as he recognized my well-known nickname. His eyes widened a fraction and he took a step back so he could study me from my low-heeled, knee-high black boots—fashionable yet easy to run in; an important combo for any female vamp—past my casual yet sparkly outfit of a short black skirt and silver lamé tank top, to my shoulder-length brown hair, currently tucked firmly behind my ears. Since the cold was only a minor annoyance for me now, I’d left my coat inside the club.

  A slow, confident smile spread across his features. “I heard that rep of yours was only a rumor. So if you’re trying to scare me you’ve failed. The only question is, when I slay you, are you still young enough to leave a body behind for me to prove I was the one to do it, or are you more ancient than you look?”

  Vampires die in one of two ways. Those over a hundred years old turn to goo. Those under a hundred leave a corpse behind. According to my recent research it seemed to have something to do with human lifetimes. If vamps lived beyond what would naturally have been their allotted years, then their bodies disintegrated when they were killed. The stains were nearly impossible to remove from carpeting or clothing. Believe me, I’d tried.

  “Oh, it was a rumor,” I agreed. “But I’ve had a few changes in my life recently that have altered a few things. I’m not quite as helpless as I might look.”

  “All I see is a disgusting black-eyed monster who needs to die.”

  “Sticks and stones, cue ball.”

  “I’m going to kill you.” He raised the stake.

  “Drop it,” I said very firmly, holding eye contact with him.

  He dropped the weapon and then looked down at it with confusion. “What the hell?”

  One of my abilities as a nightwalker was mind control over weak-minded humans. Amy called it my “thrall.” I could tell with a glance that this guy might have lots of muscles on the surface, but cotton balls between his temples. The thrall didn’t work on everybody, but it was a neat trick when it did.

  “Why are you taunting her?” Shaggy whimpered. “We gotta get out of here, man. Now!”

  Instead of taking his friend’s wise advice, Baldy lunged at me. I easily grabbed him by his throat and he gasped for breath as I dug my fingernails in on either side of his Adam’s apple.

  My vision narrowed and some more of my nightwalker’s darkness bled through into my conscious mind.

  Kill him, it suggested in a helpful manner.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” I said evenly.

  The hunter replied with a gurgle. His face was turning purple.

  It would be so easy to squash this pathetic excuse for a human as if he were no more than an annoying insect.

  The unexpectedly dark, murderous thought made me falter a bit and loosen my hold on him. I wasn’t a killer. I hadn’t planned on doing anything but scaring the crap out of these two—although, I hoped, not literally—before I sent them scurrying away.

  “Let him go!” Shaggy pleaded, obviously convinced I was about to tear his friend’s throat out with a flick of my wrist. “Don’t kill him. Please!”

  “Why not?” I grappled for control of myself and knew it was my nightwalker’s fault. She really wanted to kill this guy. After all, hunters didn’t care who they killed. Would it really be that big a loss?

  Shaggy was crying openly now. “Because… because I love him! I love you, Mark! I’m sorry I never told you. I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but it never happened. I can’t lose you. Not now. Not like this!”

  There was complete silence in the alley for a long moment.

  And then, “I love… you… too, Cal.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t expecting that. I loosened my grip on Baldy’s throat a little more.

  Vampire hunters in love. Terrific.

  “You… you love me?” Cal sounded surprised. “Since when?”

  “Since we… first met… at Clancy’s.” He gasped for breath. “Remember the eighteen beers… we drank… that night? The game of pool? Comparing our… kill counts?”

  Cal’s expression turned wistful. “Like it was only yesterday.” He looke
d pleadingly at me. “Please, let him go. We’ll leave this city forever. We promise, don’t we, Mark?”

  Mark struggled to nod. “Yeah, we promise.”

  I eyed him skeptically. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Maybe we could go to Los Angeles, or something. Open a little Oceanside bar. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

  Their eyes met. “That sounds really nice,” Cal agreed.

  After another moment, I released Mark. The red imprint of my hand on his throat was oddly satisfying.

  “Fine,” my voice was shaky. “Go. I won’t try to stop you. But I swear, if I see you in town after tonight, then all bets are off.”

  The two hunters embraced and then ran out of the alley together.

  What the hell was this? I thought. A freaking romance novel?

  I felt a warm hand on my arm. It was the fledgling.

  “Thank you! That was so amazing. You’re so strong and brave.”

  I cleared my throat. “It’s a work in progress, but thanks.” I opened my purse and reached inside to retrieve my chain with trembling fingers, knowing I had to get it back on ASAP. Every moment it was off my neck was a risk—as evidenced by my nearly killing the hunter.

  And he would have totally deserved it, my inner nightwalker reminded me.

  Exactly.

  I frowned at the thought.

  I paused to look at the fledgling. “You need to be more careful out here all alone, you know. It’s dangerous.”

  “My sire—” Her voice hitched and she covered her face with her hands and began to sob. “He… he doesn’t want me anymore. I wanted to be with him forever but now I’m all alone.”

  “It’ll get better.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe the hunters should have killed me. They almost did.” She reached up to her forehead, which had a small gash on it, and pulled her hand away to inspect the blood. “They whacked me pretty hard.”

  A sensation of warmth and wooziness moved through me.