by Kat Simons
She shook her head.
“Cary.” He had to make her understand. “There will never be anyone else for me. You’re it. Deal with it.”
Her lips twitched under his fingers. Then she sighed, her breath hot against his hand. Reluctantly, he dropped his touch.
“I’m still not sure you know what you’re talking about,” she said. “But as it happens, I like having you around. Too much really. I suppose I’m willing to deal with your erratic logic.”
The pressure constricting his chest loosened, he swallowed the panic that had been about to bubble over. Because he needed to desperately, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered against her mouth. “I can control my strength better.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I heal fast, remember?”
“Still.” He kissed her again, too shaken to do more.
Finally, she pulled back, but she cupped his cheek in one hand, a tender gesture that made him feel infinitely better.
“Let’s go eat,” she said. “But after this, no more donuts.”
He leaned down and picked up the donut bag he’d dropped when she’d started to tear his world apart. Then she took his free hand and led him toward the kitchen.
“Well, maybe every other Sunday we can still have donuts,” she said.
“Anything you want,” he said. Everything you want.
Cary stared at her hamper, half-listening to Jon complain to Sally about being stuck in the house again. It wasn’t even noon yet. They were going to have to do something soon.
“Guess the dirty clothes will have to wait,” she said to Fred who was lying attentively at her feet. Having other people living in her house was starting to cramp her schedule. She’d run out of underwear soon if she didn’t get some laundry done.
Maybe just one load—underwear, socks, t-shirts—to get her by for a few more days.
Sally knocked on her bedroom door while she was pulling out the single load.
“I’m going to need to do some laundry soon, too,” she said, nodding at the pile next to the hamper.
Sally looked tired. Her shift had ended pretty late last night. The fact that she was awake already impressed and horrified Cary. The woman needed to rest some time. She worked six days a week.
“I haven’t wanted to ask to use your machine,” Sally said. “I figured this would all be finished by now.”
“I know. I wish I could tell you when it’ll be done.”
Sally nodded then edged into the room. “We can’t go on like this much longer. I need to live in my own home again. I miss it. And while I appreciate everything you’re doing for Jon, he needs to get back to a normal schedule. A normal life. I’ve worked really hard to make sure he’s had as normal a life as a boy like him can have.”
“I won’t be able to keep him safe if you move out now,” Cary said. “And he’s still in danger. A lot of danger.”
“He told me about that man yesterday, the one offering him a job. He’s the one that’s been after Jon?”
“Yes.” Did she tell Sally the “man” was actually a demon? She was pretty sure Jon hadn’t mentioned that part, or Sally wouldn’t be talking about giving up Cary’s protection. “And he’s a very dangerous…man. He’s not to be trusted.”
“You don’t think he’s legitimately offering Jon a job?”
“Oh, he may be. But it’s not the kind of job a good kid like Jon should consider.”
“You know what he wants from my son?”
“No. I just know it won’t be good.”
Sally sighed and leaned against the wall. “Jon’s too young for a job, anyway. He keeps reminding me he’ll be sixteen soon. God help me. I don’t want him growing up that fast.”
“What did you tell him about Holland’s offer?”
“That he couldn’t take it, no matter how much money the man might offer, because he’s not old enough to work legally yet.”
“Good,” Cary said. “That’s good advice. Will he listen?”
“I’m his mother.”
Cary smiled. “Will he listen?” she asked again.
Sally gave her a crooked grin. “Maybe. I hope he does. He’s a good boy.”
“Yeah. He is.”
Cary titled her head when she heard Jon’s loud, “Isn’t there anything to do in this house?” comment floating down the hallway.
“He’s also bored,” she said.
Sally nodded ruefully. “A trip to the mall might calm him down. Especially if his friend Will can meet us there. I’ll go call Mrs. Borosky.” She pushed away from the wall. “I could use a trip to the mall, too.”
Cary nibbled her lower lip. Great. The mall. A Protector’s worst nightmare.
She scooped her pile of clothes up off the floor and headed to the laundry room. At least she’d have clean underwear to come home to. She just had to make sure everyone made it home.
The mall proved to be as much of a nightmare as Cary thought it would be. Keeping track of Jon and Will in the multi-storied Lloyd Center proved difficult at best. This time of year, the stores were busy on the weekends, people getting an early start on Christmas shopping. The best Cary could do was keep track of the shops Jon went into. She spent a lot of time standing outside gaming and sports clothes stores, worrying about Holland having spies in the mall.
Sally didn’t help matters by going off on her own—she needed a new set of sheets or something. And because Deacon refused to leave Cary’s side, the only thing Cary could do was hope no one working for Holland would spot and recognize Sally.
After Sally rejoined them, some of Cary’s tension eased. One less person she had to worry about. Unfortunately, Jon then conned them into another hour of “hanging out”, so they continued to shadow him around stores Cary had no interest in. Deacon and Sally took turns going into the shops, keeping an eye on the kids while giving them some space. Cary stayed outside, watching the crowded walkways. Waiting for that elusive second shoe.
And when it didn’t drop, she wanted to scream.
What was Holland waiting for? What was he up to? Was he taunting them? Maybe he didn’t mean Jon harm after all?
Although, if he were harmless, the Nags would never have assigned her to guard the kid. So what was going on?
If she had fingernails, she’d have gnawed them off from the stress. She hated this kind of waiting. Normally, when she protected someone, it just happened. She jumped in front of them and rescued them from something or someone. She’d rarely had to protect anyone for longer than a couple of days.
If Holland continued to not do anything, this protection really could go on for months.
When they got home, Cary threw her laundry into the dryer, freeing up the washer for Sally. Then, because she was frustrated, she made an executive decision that they needed pizza for dinner. Jon cheered. Deacon just raised a brow. Sally frowned but one look at Cary and she declined to comment.
“We might even have to have ice cream for dessert,” Cary decided.
Deacon leaned close and whispered, “So much for worrying about a few donuts.”
She scowled. “Don’t start with me,” she whispered back, so Sally and Jon wouldn’t hear. “I’ve got dirty clothes to wash, no privacy, and Holland is not making a move. I’m frustrated, annoyed, and I don’t know what to do. So I’m eating pizza and ice cream. And maybe opening a bottle of wine.”
“You want me to get the ice cream?”
She thought about that a moment, then shook her head. “No. I’ll go. I need to get out alone for a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry if I’m crowding you,” he murmured.
Something in his tone actually brought tears to her eyes. Damn it. She didn’t need this right now. It was like being hormonal but all the time. Yet she couldn’t entirely blame him for her reaction. The fact was she hated the idea of hurting his feelings. Stupidly sentimental, but true.
“It’s not you,” she sighed. She took his face
in her hands and kissed him lightly. “It’s not even Sally and Jon. I just need to think. On my own. If Jaxer doesn’t find something for me soon, I’m going to have to figure out what to do about Holland on my own. Sally won’t stay here much longer. And I can’t blame her for wanting to get her life back to normal.”
“Jaxer is trying to find answers. He said he’d send news soon.”
“I know. But over the course of the day, I’ve decided I need to figure out how to solve problems like this without Jaxer’s constant guidance. I still don’t know what to do. I just know I need to stop waiting for him and come up with a strategy on my own.”
Deacon smiled but there was something in his expression.
“What?” she asked. “What’s that look about?”
“Nothing. Just…” He ran a finger down her cheek. “You’re a very good Protector, Cary Redmond.”
“Thank you.” She hoped he was right.
20
Cary stood in front of the freezers at the supermarket for ten minutes trying to decide on a flavor everyone would like. Eventually, she gave up on compromise and got her favorite: chocolate chip cookie dough.
She was halfway to her car, ice cream and chocolate sauce in hand—because you had to have chocolate sauce—when she felt that familiar vibration along her spine that meant someone nearby needed her brand of help.
Following her Protector instincts to the dark alley next to the supermarket, she moved quietly into the shadows, holding her shopping bag in her arms so it wouldn’t make any noise. The alley was so dark she had to pause and let her eyes adjust.
Even before they had, she heard the murmur of a low, deep male voice and the whimpering and pleading from a higher, feminine voice. When Cary could finally see, she understood why the woman was whimpering.
Ice cream forgotten, Cary sprinted forward.
“Excuse me,” she said, jamming herself between the two bodies, forcing the man to take a step back.
His glowing eyes widened in shock as he stared down at her. Well, that was only to be expected given how hard it was for a mortal to physically move a vampire. Even if he did seem like a pretty young one.
“Hi,” Cary said, smiling at his stunned expression. It never hurt to be polite. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to have to break this up. Best be off, now. Thanks very much.”
The vampire actually sputtered a bit before saying, “Do you know what you’re doing? Do you have any idea what I am?”
His voice was deep and melodic. Under different circumstances, that voice would have had her quivering in her boots.
“I know what you are,” she assured him. “The big pointy teeth and glowing yellow eyes give you away.” She paused, then said, “Unless you’re going to tell me you’re the Big Bad Wolf. That would be a surprise.”
His eyes narrowed, the glow deepening to an unhealthy jaundiced color. She met his gaze with impunity, something she could only do when protecting. She wouldn’t dare look a vampire in the eyes otherwise.
“Listen,” she said, “we both know you’re a vampire, and you were going to snack on this nice lady. But she wasn’t willing, and the deal in this city is they have to be willing.” Cary glanced over her shoulder at the woman. “You’re not willing to be vampire dinner, right?”
“Right,” the woman stuttered.
She was a petit little thing with blond hair, wide blue eyes, and one of those perfect heart-shaped faces. She was the kind of woman that typically made Cary feel like an awkward giant. But the fear in the woman’s big blue eyes brought out Cary’s sympathies. She patted the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”
“But…but…”
“What she’s trying to say, human,” the vampire hissed, “is that you are a fool to think you can stand against one of my power.”
Cary tucked her chin and gave him a look. “Please. How old are you? Thirty, forty years? You’re a baby. And what makes you think I can’t stand against you?”
“Do you know anything about vampires?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I’ve studied. You suck blood from living creatures to survive. You don’t have to kill your food but some vampires still do. You live a really long time until someone kills you.” She held up a hand and started ticking points off on her fingers. “You can go out into the sun.” Over her shoulder, she said, “That’s a myth that they can’t.” Back to the vampire, she said, “But your powers are really drained in full daylight, and you’re extremely photosensitive so most vampires only come out on cloudy days if they come out during the day at all.”
To the woman, she said, “That’s why we’ve got so many vampires in the Pacific Northwest. Though not as many as you might think. They’re too territorial to clump in very large numbers. Thank god, huh?”
She faced forward. “Let’s see, what else? Holy water, crosses, all that religious paraphernalia doesn’t hurt a vampire. Oh, unless the vampire came into being in Europe during the middle-ages. Then the Christian holy symbols can kill them. Don’t ask me why. Do you know? I’ve always wondered about that. I mean why not Jewish symbols or Buddhist for that matter. And why the middle-ages? Why not now?”
The vampire made a gesture with his hand, like he was trying to backhand an irritating fly from in front of his face.
Cary continued. “Cutting off a vampire’s head works to kill them, but I mean really, that’s going to kill just about everything, right? With the obvious exception of certain demon dogs, of course. Setting a vampire on fire, another good way, but the head thing is a lot more of a guarantee. Vampires regenerate from most wounds pretty easily. But if you cut off a limb, say a hand or leg, with a silver blade, it stays cut off.”
To the woman, she said, “There are a lot more disabled—I mean physically challenged—vampires than you might expect, too.”
The vampire growled and made the hand gesture again.
“Vampires have very strong mental abilities,” Cary continued, “and they are excellent at mesmerizing their pray with eye contact. Remember, eye contact with vampires is bad.”
He gestured again and then lunged forward, hands toward Cary’s throat. He bounced back several feet, repelled by an invisible barrier before he got close enough to touch her.
“They have strong telekenetic powers,” she went on. “That’s what all the hand gesturing stuff is about. He’s trying to knock me out of the way. And when all else fails, they do have superhuman strength. At night, anyway. Have I left anything out?”
The vampire’s once attractive face distorted with his increasing rage. His canines grew long and feral-looking, his eyes glowed so yellow the pupils were tiny dots. He lunged at her again, and this time the backlash from Cary’s powers sent him flying into the opposite wall. The force of the rebound knocked her back a step, too, and her skin tingled. She brought her arms up behind her to catch her balance and keep the petit woman safe.
“Oh yeah,” she said as the vampire pulled himself up off the ground. “Vampires have really bad tempers. And they don’t like being disturbed while eating. But I’m afraid unless your meal is willing, and this one’s not, I have to put a stop to the feeding.”
“You will suffer for this insult, human. How dare you interfere with our hunt?”
“Told you, the deal was willing blood donors only. Sorry. Find someone willing, and I’ll leave you alone. But this woman is going home with all ten pints intact.”
“How do you know this?” he growled. “How do you know so much about us? You’re human. Mortal.” He sneered the last word.
“Yeah well, I’m a good study. At least I try to be. And unless you want to go back to your Master and explain how an ordinary human woman got one over on you, I’d suggest just letting this whole thing go. Find one of those willing Goth boys or girls. I’m sure they’d love to have you suck on their necks.”
“You know of the Master?” Now the vampire sounded in awe, and just a little afraid under the growling anger still in his voice.
“Gabriel? Yeah, I know of him. Never met him in person.” Thank god.
She’d had the dubious honor of meeting the former Master of Portland once, four years ago. Ariel had been one of the scariest things Cary had ever faced since becoming a Protector. The only reason she’d been able to meet Ariel and survive was because Jaxer had gone with her, and she had to protect the faery from vampiric influences. Even Jaxer wasn’t strong enough to overcome the powers of a vampire Master. The meeting was instigated by that whole vampire sucking kitten blood thing. Cary just couldn’t let him continue draining poor kittens dry. It was rude.
Somewhere in her one and only face-to-face with Ariel, the Master had decided she liked Cary. Was amused by her more like. So they came to an understanding. They’d leave each other completely alone, and Cary would only interfere with a vampire’s feeding when it hunted unwilling victims—kittens included.
In some ways, Cary had actually liked Ariel, scary as she was. Ariel understood draining kittens was a bad thing. Though probably for reasons different from Cary’s.
She’d been a little sad to hear Ariel had been overthrown and killed by this new Master. She was also terrified of meeting a vampire strong enough to kill Ariel. This pup in front of her was strong. And he would have been pretty scary if she wasn’t protecting someone. But he was nothing to a centuries-old Master.
“Listen,” she said, “Gabriel made a point of saying he’d uphold Ariel’s law—no drinking from the unwilling. He’d be pretty pissed if I had to go and tell him about this little episode.” Oh boy, was she bluffing now. “Just call it a night, okay?”
“We will meet again, human,” the vampire promised. Then he launched himself toward the alley’s entrance and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
“Forgot to say they move at supersonic speeds,” Cary muttered to the quiet alley. She turned to face the blonde. “You okay now?”
