Pike

by Brea Viragh

  She wanted to curl up and die. So sick of blaming herself for a future she’d known would happen.

  “Why didn’t you say anyth—” Pike started to say.

  “Because it wouldn’t have mattered. Wouldn’t have changed a thing,” she said. Pike remained standing by the counter, his eyes unreadable and face a polite mask, while she stalked away to the opposite side of the room, her gaze glued to the floor.

  Was there a graceful way out of this situation?

  “You’re wrong. It might have mattered. It might have made me think twice about seducing you.”

  Her heart squeezed even tighter. She gazed numbly at her feet, unable to believe he would stab her so deeply with a single sentence. “I almost wish you hadn’t. It would make this much easier. And make my visions a lie. I can live with those kinds of lies. Rather than the ones where you tell me you care about me.”

  “That, my dear,” he said with a tap of his knuckles on the countertop, “is not a lie. I do care about you.”

  “Like you care about the others.”

  He weighed his answer. “I care about them in a different way. Just because I feed on love doesn’t make me a monster. It makes me a survivor.”

  “A survivor, sure.” She shivered. “Do you mind if I get dressed now?”

  “I’d like to be able to discuss this like adults.”

  It took effort to push down the sick feeling roiling around inside of her. “There’s really nothing to discuss. Especially not while I’m naked and bleeding over here.”

  “I see no blood.”

  “Trust you to take me literally. For once.”

  “Lavinia,” he said as though he were addressing a room full of rowdy children, “this doesn’t have to change our friendship.” He slid a little closer as if unsure whether she wanted comfort or to be left alone. Sadly, the former rang truer than the latter.

  She swallowed a laugh. “Wow. Just wow. I can’t handle a friendship with you after this.”

  Her breath was shaky when she finally released it. At least she’d managed to mire her way through the conversation without an argument. Even when her gift felt like a curse and tears were burning a trail of acid down her throat.

  “I’m not going to apologize,” he finally replied. “I can’t apologize for what I am. What I’ve been for the last almost four hundred years. I need to feed to live.” He paused, and then said, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Too late,” she murmured and drew her shirt over her head.

  “I truly…value…our friendship. You don’t seem to get it.”

  “Then why don’t you explain it to me?”

  The look he shot her was full of scorn. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I wouldn’t understand that you lied to me to get me to fall for you?”

  “Telling you what you want, what you need, to hear is not a lie.”

  “Then you need to pick up a dictionary, buddy, because you seem to have forgotten the definition.”

  “I feel things for you.” His voice was chilly. Controlled. “I know that much is true. Having you around, talking to you.”

  She was silent for the count of ten. “You should have left me in the friend zone.” Her jacket went on last and Lavinia searched for her purse. Finding it at last on the living room floor, she stalked forward and threw it over her shoulder. Then she turned to Pike. “Maybe you should see what kind of meal everlasting love can provide, instead of duping innocent women into caring for you. Because I can assure you, what I feel? It’s the forever kind.”

  With that she walked out, leaving her heart behind.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Bloody hell.” Pike checked his phone for the umpteenth time and, frustrated with himself, slammed it back into his pocket. “I haven’t heard a single thing from the woman.”

  “And you probably won’t, considering she knows what you are now. Which one is this?” Ezollo did his best to sound commiserating. Pike, however, saw the true intentions lying behind those slitted pupils. Curiosity. Pure and simple.

  “The only one who matters.”

  “Oh. Damn. You fucked up this time.”

  “Yes, I know. I got too close.

  “And you obviously had a lot of fun doing it.”

  He tried to pry his eyelids open and catch his balance, orienting himself to the space and finding he couldn’t manage any of it. “Am I still in the bar drinking myself sick?”

  “You betcha.” Ezollo whistled. “You really are in a bad place. Maybe you had more fun than I assumed. You wanna go easy on that brew.”

  The daemon kept another tasteless remedy behind the bar for emergencies. No doubt this one had a bit of human soul added to give it an extra kick. Pike found he needed the boost. There was a curious pain below his ribs and the more he drank, the less it hurt.

  “No. I need more.”

  Ezollo’s favorite three words. “I’ll add them to your tab.” His lashes fluttered as he reached for the bottle, holding it in front of his face.

  Pike squirmed closer and grabbed the entire thing.

  “And I brought you a fresh mark. If you’re hungry.”

  “Just because Lavinia found out about my other women doesn’t mean I’m starving. I had enough to eat to last me for the next month.”

  Ezollo waited, the moment drawing out. “Do you want to talk about her?”

  “No,” Pike answered with a morose chuckle. “I’m running on no sleep and half a bottle of whatever shite you mixed together. I’m not venturing into heart-spilling territory with you.”

  With a shrug, Ezollo grabbed the bottle back from him and took a long, rich swig. “Right now, from where I’m standing, I’m the only one you’ve got. I don’t exactly see people lining up around the block to help make you feel better. But here I am. Now you’re going to sit here and talk to me, or I’ll have the hens over there come give you a talking to.”

  “What do you want to know? I fucked Lavinia and she found out what I am. What I do. What I eat.” Pike grabbed the bottle back and held it aloft in a silent cheer. “All this right after I forced her down among the rat shifters unprepared.”

  Ezollo’s frown took a sharp left turn into alarm. “Is she all right?”

  “Like me, she’s surprisingly hard to kill.”

  “You introduced her to the shifters and then took her home for sweet loving?”

  “Pretty much,” Pike said, thinking back to that night a week ago. When Lavinia walked out of his life for good. The next day, when he’d slunk back to his Monday and Saturday bird with his tail between his legs—and sans the promised surprise—he was startled to find she wanted nothing to do with him. It went beyond his standing her up. Someone had spoken to her already. Same story with his Thursday gal. He ended up with two doors slammed in his face. The nearly broken nose wasn’t the worst part. He knew he deserved whatever they threw his way, and worse.

  The worst part was the only person he wanted to speak to, his best friend in this world, wanted nothing to do with him, and it was all his fault.

  “Do you think I’m going mental?” he asked, toying with the cork of the bottle. “For what I did?”

  Ezollo blinked.

  “Because at this point, I don’t know anymore. Was any of it worth it? Was getting close to her worth it? Maybe I should give up and slink off into the abyss.”

  More blinking.

  “I should let myself starve for what I did to her. She saw it, you know, before it happened. Told me so herself. The clearest goddamn vision she’s ever had and it was her in my rearview mirror. She foresaw me walking out on her. And I did it.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Ezollo said. Out came the rag with the same circular swishing of condensation around the bar top.

  “Tell me I’m stupid.”

  “You are, but you’ve also survived this long by getting yourself out of a scrape or two. Do you want me to send the harpies to find her?”

  Pike
sighed. “No. I’ll handle it myself.”

  “Please tell me you’re going to admit how you feel.”

  “If I do, she’ll probably slice me where I stand. I taught her too much.”

  “Do you want my advice?” Ezollo asked.

  “No.”

  “Move. Get out of town and forget her.” He flashed his rows of sharp teeth. “I can help take care of your little broken birdie.”

  “Like. Hell.”

  “Aw, come on. She’s never going to trust you again. I know the type. Once they’re shattered, the pieces don’t come back together.”

  Pike balled his hand into a fist. “Then you don’t know her.”

  “What, like you’re going to make the effort to win her back?” Ezollo chuckled. “Do what you do best and run. There are other towns, other countries. Where you’ll have a cornucopia of females throwing themselves at you. You’ll never starve.”

  “No, you’re right.”

  “Live like a king. I know a great spot off the coast of Greece where you’ll be treated like a god.”

  “And leave Lavinia to you?”

  “Exactly.” Ezollo gave a short nod. “Leave her to me. Haven’t you done enough damage?”

  If he’d had the energy, Pike would have laughed. Lavinia, hooking up with this gossipmonger. There was no chance. She’d break his nose if he got too close.

  Indeed, he’d spent enough time with her to know what she was capable of doing. More than even she understood. There was a world of strength hidden in her petite frame.

  Pike left the bar and went home, changing into a dark sweater and worn jeans. He brushed his hair into a semblance of order and kept it tamed with a palm full of gel. Then he downed half a bottle of aspirin to squash the headache blasting him. Whether a product of his guilt or whatever drink he’d managed to finish at Kraken Down, he wasn’t sure.

  For a man who’d been alive for a little less than four centuries, he was sure good at making his life into a mountain of crap.

  Bollocks.

  Ezollo might have been a soulless demon with a penchant for gossip, but he was right. Pike had no friends except for Lavinia. She was the one who kept coming back, despite the many times he’d sent her away. She gave him warmth, affection, an ear to complain to and a smile that lit his darkest moments.

  What did he have to offer her? Nothing.

  It was hard facing the facts. He had nothing to offer anyone. Lavinia was good, and light. He was nothing but a louse, preying on a precious emotion. He did it because he had to. For the first time in his life, he hated himself.

  What a thing to admit. His healthy ego had taken not only a beating, but also a slam in the dirt. He’d done nothing but cause grief and heartache to countless women. He hadn’t given it a thought until he hurt the one person who’d stood by his side. The one who saw beneath the arrogance, the booze. Everything.

  What was it she’d said about love? Maybe he should try feeding on everlasting love instead.

  It was impossible. His mentor, the vampire who’d made him what he was, had told him so.

  Pike was walking toward the door when a tingling began in the back of his throat. Heat shot down his spine.

  “What—”

  His focus dimmed, hand falling listlessly from the doorknob. As a vampire, he didn’t have special powers beyond a keen sense of hearing and the ability to see in the dark. He certainly didn’t have visions. Those he left to the psychics. But as a moving picture as real as life flashed behind his closed eyes, it took everything he had inside him not to scream.

  What he saw had his knees shaking and his stomach squirming. He saw himself. And Lavinia. Tangled together, with their legs wrapped around each other, soft music playing in the background. Her lips fell lovingly on his forehead and she smoothed a lock of hair away from his face.

  His vision self reached for her. Pulled her to him, hugging gently and carefully.

  Carefully?

  Carefully because of the basketball-size swell of her belly.

  Lavinia was pregnant.

  CHAPTER 11

  The mother of migraine headaches woke her. Even blinded by the pain, she realized she was lying on the cold, musty ground with her hands bound behind her. Nothing covered her mouth though, and for that she could be grateful. They’d also been too stupid to bind her ankles.

  Jeez, she’d let those bumbling corpses get the better of her. Fear had her gulping like a goldfish out of its fishbowl. Unfortunately, she wasn’t getting much air into her lungs.

  When the pain subsided enough to allow her to focus, she realized where she was—an old mausoleum. There were grooves in the dirt leading from the entrance, apparently where they’d dragged her in.

  “You ghouls don’t give up, do you? Let’s see, we have five, six, seven…” She stopped counting when they all shuffled together into a group, making it difficult to distinguish one stinking corpse from another.

  The worst part of it? She’d seen the group right before the attack. And she’d walked right into it. Why? Because she was stupid, hot-tempered, and aggressive, feeling like she needed to prove herself. She didn’t need Pike around to get her out of trouble or save her ass every time she walked into a bad situation. His lessons had been crap, anyway. She knew enough now to worm her way out of whatever distress befell her.

  Thus, the ghouls. The mausoleum. And the gnawing fear that she was about to meet her end, despite her attempt at bravado.

  Lavinia tugged at the ropes embedding themselves into her wrists, causing them to cut lines along her already chafed skin. Luckily, her desire to live was bigger than the pain.

  “I know I’m like crack to you guys, but this needs to end.” She struggled against her binding. “I’m not always going to be available to tie up like a stuck pig.”

  The lead ghoul laughed, the sound like wet laundry tumbling together. With a sentience that ghouls rarely possessed, he took her chin between two rotting fingers and jerked it up.

  “Go on and take a bite,” she taunted with a glare. “I swear to God I am going to get out of here and wrench your head off your spine so hard your buddies will feel it.”

  The ghoul snorted and released her.

  She hadn’t exactly come up with a plan yet. A foolish whim had brought her to the graveyard in the first place, after the latest vision resounded off the walls of her skull until she was forced into action.

  These ghouls were a nuisance and getting on her last nerve.

  “Honestly, I’m kind of looking forward to murdering every last one of you. Although you’re already dead, so I guess it doesn’t count as murder. You’re just a bunch of necromancer rejects.”

  One of the ghouls snarled and an odorous wash of putrid breath spilled over her. She grimaced at the smell, using it to fuel her anger. The trembling in fear would have to wait.

  “He couldn’t even stick around long enough to give you all a change of clothes. What did you die of? A fashion police firing squad?”

  That last crack earned her a slap across the face. She blinked at the bright flash of pain and stars floating across her vision. Wow, those dead hands could hit hard. So hard her world went black for a number of seconds. Remnants of dead flesh the color of a rotten honeydew melon clung to her skin, and when she shook her head, a sliver of finger bone dropped off onto the ground.

  Good enough. It had to be good enough.

  Her cheek throbbed as she rolled to her side, moaning. The ropes limited her movement but the slap gave her enough cover to shuffle and grab the finger fragment. It was slippery to the touch, gag-worthy. She swallowed a heave and felt bile rise in her throat. It was her only chance to slip the ropes.

  “Wow, you guys might be dead, but I think you must have been abusive in a previous life. You like beating up a defenseless woman. One whose only crime is smelling good!”

  It was slow going, using the decomposing bone to slice through the ropes. Luckily, ghouls weren’t smart enough to master the art of knots. This one sli
pped once she managed to cut through several of the strands.

  The stomping of feet caught her attention, followed by the soft whispering grunts of the ghouls. Her wrists released with a hiss and, though her heart hammered in her chest, Lavinia jumped to her feet. Adrenaline surged through her blood in a red wave of electricity. With a screech, she bounded on the closest ghoul and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  She saw the future clearly in her head. There was no static. No sense of confusion. The scene played out in bright color, a scene where she saw herself as the hero. She knew what she had to do. Every move she had to make between now and then. The knowledge settled deep below her ribcage.

  A fierce smile split her face. “You are not going to control my life!” The demand was accompanied by a satisfying wrench as she snapped his vertebrae. “Do you understand?”

  The second the corpse fell, her heel dug into its shoulder, the body decomposing in a hailstorm of sand. The other ghouls looked up, their decaying retinas focusing in on her. Although a slight sheen of sweat dotted her forehead, Lavinia felt pumped. And furious. She swiped a hand across her brow and gestured for the rest of them to come on.

  It took little effort to jab her elbow into the throat of the closest ghoul, almost taking his head off in the process. The momentum carried her onto the next one. Her boot came up with a roundhouse kick to the third ghoul, sending him flying into the wall.

  It wasn’t her superior strength that decapitated the next one. Or even the next. Lavinia did not consider herself particularly athletic or strong. Hell, she was barely able to wrench the cap off a bottle without assistance. This was to prove a point. She didn’t need a man to take care of her, and she definitely didn’t need Pike. She hoped the bastard starved.

  “You assholes!” she screamed. A lunge brought her fist into contact with another ghoul. But an attack from behind to the backs of her knees had her knocked down hard on her tailbone. Though another slash of agony coursed through her, it didn’t stop the adrenaline. She sucked in a breath, rolled the pain into a little ball she could ignore, and bounded to her feet. Closed her eyes. Fought, knowing she would win.