The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant, Book 5

by Pamfiloff, Mimi Jean

  The irony is, I’ve been doing the exact same thing my entire life. My cloak is the unassuming librarian persona. No one would ever suspect that I am—was—a trained vampire killer. Not even Clive knew. My parents, both Keepers, had their own agendas.

  Nice and I walk through the lobby toward the exit. “So how much of what I saw was real? The Fanged Love obsession, the lace, the bad poetry…”

  “The chauffeur is waiting,” he says.

  He doesn’t want to answer. Not yet anyway. But I suspect tonight is a test or a sort of game. He lives for those. And if I’m right, then the obvious question becomes, What does he intend to do if I don’t pass muster?

  Once outside, the Miami night air is cool and moist. Nice opens the passenger door of the Town Car, and I slide in. I greet the driver while Nice comes around the other side and gets in.

  “To the Mambo Theater, sir?” asks the driver.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Nice says like a polite and sane person.

  “I know you’re playing with me,” I say in a quiet voice. “So why don’t we just cut the crap? Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

  “Miriam, I am far too old and far too impatient to make up meaningless lies. My lies always have a purpose: survival. And while I did not expect you to knock on my door tonight, I had planned to come and claim you. Soon. Very soon. You are my fanged love. And now that you are like me, it is time for you to take your place by my side. For this reason, I am revealing myself to you. No one else in the history of my existence has seen who I am.”

  I don’t know if I believe him, but I still have to ask, “Why now? Why me? What makes you so sure I’m the one?”

  “I wouldn’t be giving you this chance if I were not absolutely certain. Your betrayal—choosing that pompous, violent thug Michael over a sophisticated bag of fun like me—was unforgivable. Had I thought you were just like any other woman out there, I would have killed you, not given you my blood and turned you.” He lowers his voice. “You are my soul mate. The two of us are bonded now. And tonight, we start our new life together.”

  That’s weird. Now that he mentioned it, I don’t feel a thing. Not one little tingle of a bond or a sliver of loyalty. It makes me realize that the connection I have with Michael is something special. He gave me his blood a few times when I was human and close to dying, but I suspect what we have goes far beyond that. Nice is my maker. I should feel something for him, and I don’t. Maybe it’s because there’s no room in my heart for two vampires.

  Nice continues, “Tonight, I am offering you one chance to earn my trust, Miriam. I have revealed my biggest secret to you. If this is a mistake, I will find out, and then I will end you, your sweet Stella, and her ridiculously weak father.”

  Michael is anything but weak. Nice is just jealous. But his opinion of Michael isn’t what worries me. It’s what Nice might do if I betray him.

  I look away, feeling his words like a sledgehammer to the ribs. “Well, at least you were honest about that one part of yourself.” I sigh. “Once a sadistic bastard, always a sadistic bastard.”

  “I am not to be tested, Miriam. Not now. Not ever. And a deal struck with me must be kept, so I want there to be no mincing words. You’re in my world now. Welcome.”

  “I understand. But like you said, a deal is a deal, so just remember to keep your part: Michael must live.”

  “A deal’s a deal.” Nice smiles, and I clearly see the devil hiding behind a mask of humanlike flesh.

  It’s then that I realize I can’t trust him to keep his word. He might save Michael and then turn around and kill him in a week.

  I have to finish the job. I came to Miami for a reason, and I need to see it through.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  By three o’clock in the morning, after mingling with the cast, who seems to know Nice extremely well, we leave the speakeasy, and Nice finally agrees to take me back to the hotel to check on Michael. For some strange reason, Lula has not been answering text messages. Nice thinks she’s upset because their fling is over, but I’m not so sure.

  “I really hope I’m wrong,” I say, “because whoever’s been trying to kill Michael and me is very, very knowledgeable about hunting vampires.”

  “I wouldn’t worry,” Nice says.

  “Why?” I wonder if he knows something.

  “When you are as old as I am, someone is always hunting you. They want your blood, your power; they fear you. But I have yet to find anyone who can outsmart or outrun me.”

  “Well, I’m not nearly as old as you.”

  He grins that sadistic grin. “That is why you will always be safe. As long as you are by my side,” he adds.

  “I’ve heard that before,” I mutter under my breath.

  The car pulls up to the entrance of the hotel, which reminds me of something straight out of American Horror Story: Hotel—ominous and looming with arched windows and a nice Deco flair.

  Nice leaves the car and comes around to help with his outstretched hand. I pause for a moment, and we exchange combative looks. I decide that making him my enemy doesn’t help.

  I slide my hand into his, noticing how hot his skin feels now. It’s because I’ve changed. Before, he felt like a cold fish on ice.

  We walk hand in hand in silence to the elevator, which arrives almost instantly. When we step in, the doors close, and Nice turns to me, grabs my shoulders, and slams my back against the wall.

  I gasp and blink up at him in fear, knowing he can end me anytime he likes.

  “What are you doing?” I try to stay calm.

  “I have never felt so connected to anyone, Miriam. I can’t explain why, and I don’t care. But I feel in my heart that we were brought together for a purpose, and that purpose was to give me another chance.”

  A chance to die? Sure. I’m here to help! “Chance at what?”

  “Life. Love. Purpose. My years as a human child were nothing but suffering, crossing the vast territories of India and Africa. Then my parents were killed by a vampire right before my eyes. He took me, raised me, only to turn me for his companion. These last three hundred years have been nothing but misery. You and those books are all that matter to me. Fanged Love gave me hope, and you, Miriam, will give me a life.”

  He’s on me so fast that my lips don’t know what to do. His tongue delves into my mouth like a slimy serpent on the attack. I try not to retch.

  “Narmmm, narmmm, narmmm,” he moans.

  Ew! What is he doing? I hold back kicking him in the nuts, remembering that Michael’s life is on the line. A deal’s a deal.

  Nice pulls back and flashes a predatory smile. “There. You see. You felt the connection, too. We were meant to be.”

  I nod slowly, holding down the contents of my stomach. “Sure. Yep. So connected.” If that connection is me ending your life.

  “Now we will get a private room, and you will make violent love to me.”

  What? Oh hell no.

  The elevator doors slide open, and both of us catch the scent of blood. Not human blood. Vampire blood. Lots of it. The fluid might be dust by now, but the scent still lingers in the air.

  “Stay back.” Nice pushes me into the elevator and goes charging toward his room.

  There isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to play armchair librarian, so I go after him. When I catch up, the door to the room has been kicked down, and Nice is hovering over two bodies on the floor.

  Lula and Michael? “No. No. No.” I shake my head. “Are they dead?”

  Nice doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on either. “I think so, but they haven’t turned to dust yet.”

  I rush over and press my ear to Lula’s chest. I can’t hear anything. “Is it normal to have no heartbeat?” I ask.

  “I believe they have been poisoned. Their bodies are about to dust.”

  My entire being buckles under the weight. I can’t breathe.

  Nice kneels beside me over Lula and presses two fingers to her neck. He shakes his head, delivering
his silent prognosis. “Perhaps it is for the best,” he says. “Lula would never have left me alone—much too in love with me. And you and Vanderhorst were never meant to be, so he only would have gotten in the way.”

  I ignore him, feeling my heart turning into a pile of rubble. Is this how Michael felt when he watched me die? Did his heart simply wither, leaving behind an empty shell? I begin to sob.

  “Stop crying,” Nice says, keeping with his new, more civilized persona. “Time to move on and embrace our new—arrrrrgh!”

  I glance over at Nice, who’s clawing at his neck.

  What the…

  He falls facedown onto the gray carpet between Lula and Michael and stops moving.

  Lula jumps to her feet, holding a huge syringe—the kind people use to inject marinade into meat. “Ha! Take that, vampy-pants.” Lula nods at me. “You’re welcome.”

  I have no idea what just happened. “What—what was that?”

  “Chocolate syrup. The good stuff.” She grins. “God, do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

  “I thought you liked him,” I say.

  “No. I only said that being with him wasn’t that bad. Never would I say I liked him, and even if I did, I owed it to you and Michael. I never should have made a deal with Nice to let him have you, and this was the only way to make things right.”

  “I’m a little speechless.”

  “Come on.” She holds out her hand. “You need to have mouth sex with Michael and get some more vitamin B into him so we can get out of here.” She jerks her head. “There are ten bags in the mini-fridge.”

  “Did you give him anything while we were gone?” I ask.

  “Just enough blood to keep him alive, but I didn’t want him waking up. Nice had to believe we were both done for.”

  I can’t believe it.

  Lula looks down at Nice. “I hope Michael has you tortured slowly and then gives you a public dusting.”

  I want to tell her that Michael has other plans, that Nice will finally do some good, but I hold back. Even if Lula just saved us, I’m not Michael. I don’t give second chances when it comes to trust.

  I dash over to the fridge and grab the red-filled pouches. I pause, cradling the cool lifesaving liquid to my chest.

  “What’s the matter?” Lula asks.

  “I, uh…well, it’s just that I haven’t…” I glance at Michael’s pale face and outstretched body lying on the floor. “We haven’t really touched or anything. Not for a long time.”

  Lula tilts her head and smiles. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen a bashful, blushing vampire before. Are you sure you’re not still human?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, the clock is ticking, and he needs to be healed, so if you don’t want to do mouth sex, then…” She holds out her hand.

  I instinctively tighten my grip on the bags. “No. He’s my lo—he’s the father of my child. I’ll do it.” I almost called him my lover.

  Still grinning, Lula bows her head and gestures toward him. “All yours, then.”

  She starts preparing another big syringe of chocolate syrup, saying some very unpleasant things to Nice.

  Meanwhile, the room around me fades away, and my eyes lock on Michael’s face—the exquisite cheekbones, the sensual lips that are equally plump on both top and bottom, the beautifully masculine brow line. Even now, he’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Classically handsome, refined, but never weak.

  I sigh with one part sadness, one part desire. Both are felt deep in my heart. I know he’ll wake up and still feel nothing for me, but knowing how close I just came to losing him makes me realize how undead my love is.

  I press the bag to my mouth and bite down, tasting the salty tang on my tongue. Gross. I’ll never get used to this. I lean down and press my lips to Michael’s. He feels warm to me now that I’m like him. In fact, his mouth has never felt more right, more delicious.

  I kiss him softly and then start the process of bringing him back. My love. My fanged love. If only my feelings were enough to bring his heart back too.

  But perhaps it is time I start accepting that he might be this way for good.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Michael

  When I wake, I’m in a strange room and the librarian’s mouth is on mine. My stomach is full and warm with blood, while her hot lips heat the rest of me. I’m aroused?

  I find it entirely fascinating that my body seems to have its own agenda when it comes to her. But if the stirring in my shorts is any indication, perhaps the connection between us has not waned as much as I’d thought.

  My thoughts of physical pleasure evaporate suddenly when I catch Nice’s very un-nice scent in the air, along with Lula’s sweet perfume.

  I place a hand on Miriam’s shoulder.

  She startles and pulls away. “You’re awake,” she whispers, her eyes wide with affection.

  “Yes. And you must’ve been damned desperate to bring me here for help.”

  With the back of her hand, the librarian wipes a bit of red from the corner of her sensual lips. I cannot recall her ever doing anything so sexual. Other than sex with me, of course.

  “You were about to dust,” she says. “There was no other choice.”

  I sit up and blink the room into focus. Nice is lying on his back, and Lula is plunging what appears to be a very sharp turkey baster into his thigh.

  “What happened to him?” I ask.

  Lula lifts her chin. “It’s an apology. To you.”

  I have learned not to trust anything Lula says. The list of her betrayals and lies is a mile long. “You could have incapacitated him anytime over the past few months. Why now?”

  “Because I suspected you would come after him once you figured out I was the one calling and hanging up. And when you came, I wanted you to see—with your own eyes—that I am on your side and forever will be. You are my brother, Michael. Metaphorically speaking, of course, because we’re not actually related and we banged one out a few years back. A horrible screw, by the way. Not enough hip action. Nevertheless, we have the same corrupt, insane, and very dead maker, so that makes us family. Also, I didn’t really want to be alone when I injected Nice. I don’t exactly have a place to lock him up.”

  I glance at the librarian, whose mouth is twisted to one side like she’s just bitten into a rotten apple with a worm, and that worm is now wriggling in her mouth. I wonder if it is Lula’s description of our lackluster intercourse. Honestly, it was pity sex. I did not enjoy it. No spark.

  “Well, Lula,” I say, “I thank you for saving me and capturing this outlaw. Now we must return to Cincinnati so we can detain Mr. Nice properly.” There is no amount of chocolate that will keep him sedated forever. He is much too strong, and if we attempt to increase the dosage, it could actually kill him. I need him alive.

  I get to my feet and look at the librarian, who seems rather forlorn. “What is rippling your pond, woman? We have triumphed.”

  She shakes her head and refuses to tell me.

  “As you wish.” I go for the dormant Nice and throw him over my shoulder. “We need a vehicle to transport us to the airstrip.”

  “My car is downstairs in the garage,” says Lula. “I’ll go and pull it around by the back stairs.”

  “Very good. We must move fast so the hotel security does not see us. And do not forget to bring more sedatives.”

  Lula nods and dashes out of the room. I turn to follow.

  “Wait.” The librarian grabs hold of my free arm.

  “What?”

  “I’m not coming with you,” she says.

  What the devil? “Why not?” I am in no mood for disobedience or debates. I have what I came for. It is time to go.

  “Because,” she replies, a slight edge to her voice, which I find strangely erotic, “the person who shot you with an arrow is still out there. And as long as he is, we’re not safe.”

  What Miriam does not understand is that in our world, there
is always something going on: spies, rogue vampires, society disputes, assassins, coups. This serum is more important. We simply need to be careful. I will deal with the assassin another day.

  “All right then,” I say, “you may stay and hunt down the assassin. Meanwhile, I must get Nice back to my lab. Come. Help me get him to the car and on the plane. Then you may go on your way.”

  Miriam

  I know it sounds crazy, but I’m beginning to think that Michael isn’t actually an emotional Stonehenge. Any rational person can see that he has an agenda, and it isn’t entirely rooted in duty. There was a distinct air of pride in his voice just now when he mentioned going back to his lab.

  Unfortunately, it doesn’t change my situation. This human who’s hunting us traveled from Arizona to Florida and knew exactly when and where to strike. Michael might have his agenda, but I have mine, too: solving this puzzle. Who are they? Why do they want us both dead? How do they know our movements?

  Now that I know Nice isn’t the person behind this, I’m all the more perplexed, but I’m glad Michael understands how important it is to figure this out.

  We dart out of the room, down the back stairwell, and step outside to wait for Lula. I’m keeping watch in case Nice starts showing signs of rousing. If he does, I highly doubt the three of us will be enough to subdue him, but it’s all we’ve got. After I accompany them to the plane, I’ll start tracking down this human assassin.

  “Before I forget, when you get to Cincinnati,” I say to Michael, “tell Stella I am baking muffins.”

  Still holding Nice over his shoulder, Michael frowns. “Truly, we need to talk about your parenting.”

  I roll my eyes. “It just means I love her. That’s all.”

  “Oh.”

  Lula pulls up in a stretch limo. White. Somehow, I’m not surprised that this is the car she’s been driving Nice around in.

  Michael stares at the door handle for a moment and then turns to me. “You truly intend to remain here alone and hunt this idiot human?”