First Sight [Diablo Falls]

by Stephanie West

  Oh! Her brow furrowed in confusion as her heartbeat quickened.

  * * *

  Tyr

  He smelled the tang of Gwen's blood, and before he realized what he was doing his lips were wrapped around her delicate finger. Her blood was sweet. The rich liquid excited his taste buds.

  All of a sudden, he saw the dark street outside the bar lit up at one end by the single headlamp of an approaching motorcycle. A crappy blue two-door Ford whipped out of the alley, narrowly missing the bike. The guy in the coupe swerved, hitting a couple of trashcans before speeding off down the street. The image was so crisp, it was almost as if he were there.

  Just as quickly the vision shifted. He was still outside the wine bar, but things were different, a different day maybe. He turned toward the door of The Cellar and stuck a key in the lock. His hand wasn't his own, it was a woman's hand. He looked up to see Gwen’s reflection in the window. Suddenly there was knife pressed to his, no, her throat. The reflection of the masked man gave nothing away about his identity. He couldn't hear what the bastard said over the thunderous rush of blood in his, no, Gwen's ears. He could feel her fear, the adrenalin, and the brave anger coursing through her. Then there was blood, so much blood. He—she gasped.

  Tyr blinked, and when he opened his eyes he was back in the bar, in the here and now, Gwen staring at him in shock. He swiftly released her finger.

  * * *

  Gwen

  "Um, Tyr." She didn't know what to say. Tyr had this blank look on his face then appeared as shocked as she was. "My mom used to kiss my scrapes better," she added, trying to lessen the awkwardness of the situation.

  This had to be the weirdest thing ever. She'd been kissed by the occasional drunk patron but never had her finger licked.

  "I will have my assistant call in the order." Tyr swiftly got up and left the restaurant.

  She looked down to see her finger had stopped bleeding and the cut wasn't nearly as bad as she thought.

  Gwen couldn't concentrate the rest of the evening as they finished up the shift.

  “I’m out.” Rob headed for the back door while she was still wiping down the bar.

  “Night,” she called over her shoulder.

  She glanced at the counter and noticed Rob had forgotten his half of the tips. Thankfully she managed to catch him in the alley by his car.

  "Hey, Rob, you forgot your tips."

  Before he swiftly shut his trunk, she noticed several bottles, but couldn’t see what they were.

  "Oh, thanks." Rob took the cash she handed him.

  "Seems like everyone is having a party." She glanced at the trunk.

  "Just a little get together. Bought a few bottles of the new Merlot we got in."

  "Oh yeah, that was pretty good. Well, have a good one."

  She headed back inside, finished tidying and locking up then started walking home. Something told her to be wary, and usually she listened to her gut, but lately she’d been preoccupied.

  Gee, I wonder why that is? She shook her head at herself. She could still feel Tyr’s warm tongue on her fingertip. Why did he do that? Gwen shivered even though it was a pleasant evening.

  * * *

  Tyr

  The visions were the most freakish thing he'd experienced in all the long, long years he’d walked this earth. It wasn't uncommon to feel the emotions of those whose blood you took. You might even share or pass memories when sired or making fledglings, especially if the bonds were solidly established. But he’d never witnessed visions as if he were there. He could feel, hear, and taste everything in that moment.

  Tyr was so rattled, he swiftly left the bar without placing his order. He walked out the front door and was about to step off the curb, but stopped short as a strange feeling overwhelmed him. A lone headlight lit up the street. It was a motorcycle. He looked toward the alley in time to see the blue Ford coupe emerge. Everything played out just as he'd seen it in the bizarre vision. Even the trashcans scattered in the same erratic pattern.

  What the holy fuck! He gaped at the unbelievable scene.

  Gwen wasn't just an aggravating woman, she was a myth. Among his kind there were stories of human hosts with Seeing Blood. But they were only whispers, fairy tales. No one really believed it was true.

  “This is not good,” he whispered, as foreboding crept up his spine.

  If Gwen fell into the wrong hands, the ramifications were staggering. And what was descending upon Diablo Falls... a horde of hungry Kindred, led by Sovereigns who were chomping at the bit to gain the upper hand.

  His thoughts immediately catapulted to the next half of the vision he'd witnessed. Of course, he wouldn't have to worry about her gift being used for ill if she was murdered in the street.

  No. Tyr shook off the thought. He’d seen a lot of bloodshed in his time and it didn’t affect him the way it did when he was mortal. Perhaps, before, when he only knew her smart tongue, he wouldn’t have cared so much if she was here one day and gone the next. But he’d seen her passion and felt the fight in her even as she was brutally cut down in the vision. No. If anyone’s going to put the shrew in her place it’ll be me.

  Tyr stood in the shadows, watching Gwen flit around the restaurant. He frowned when that useless prick Rob left her to lock-up on her own. What kind of male left a woman to fend for herself?

  Someone should drain that asshole.

  Gwen glanced up and down the street. Her gaze paused on the portico where he stood hidden. For a moment he thought she saw him, like he did the other night when he played the peeping tom, but she turned back and finished securing the door.

  Is this when it happens? he wondered as he revisited the scene of her murder.

  He didn't sense or smell anyone else lurking in the shadows as she dropped the keys in her purse then headed down the street for her apartment. He followed, the vision of her murder churning in his head. He'd be willing to think it was merely a fiction of the mind, if he hadn't just witnessed the other half come true.

  Dammit! If tonight isn't the night it happens, then when?

  Gwen walked down the lit street humming to herself. The light wasn't a shield, it couldn't protect the foolish creature. The lampposts were spotlights, highlighting her every move. They’d call to his brethren, screaming, “here’s a tasty morsel,” then her secret would be known. The woman was a menace to herself and the delicate balance that existed. He couldn't babysit her every move.

  Shit, shit, shit! He clenched his fists, frustrated by the twist of fate as he realized what had to be done.

  Tyr moved faster than mortal eyes could see, gripped the back of Gwen’s neck, placing pressure on her carotid. She silently struggled for a minute, clawing at his hand, before going limp. He swung her into his arms and took off for his car. Once there, he grabbed the duct tape from his trunk and bound her hands. He stared down at her, so peaceful, and realized she wouldn't be that way for long. When she awoke there’d be hell to pay. Tyr pulled off another strip of tape and put it across her mouth.

  Chapter Four

  Gwen

  Gwen awoke to the new car leather smell and the frantic strains of Wagner coming from the radio. She could see street lights passing through the tinted windows.

  Oh my god, where am I?

  She glanced over to see the cropped blond hair and stern profile of the worst customer ever.

  Shit! Tyr wasn't just an ass; he was a psychopath. She’d sensed he was a lot of things, but this took her by surprise.

  The surge of adrenalin was like a punch to the gut. Her chest started heaving as she tried to suck panicked breaths through her nose. The bastard had taped her mouth and hands.

  She didn’t know what he thought he was going to accomplish by abducting her, but she refused to go quietly.

  If you think taping my mouth will shut me up, you’re dead wrong.

  Gwen licked at the tape, loosening it. Her hands were bound in front of her, so she reached up and pulled off the tape with a groan as it tore her s
kin.

  "Pull over and let me out, asshole!" she screamed.

  Tyr cast her a cool glance, one brow raised, before turning his eyes back to the road.

  "Fucking nut! I should've spit in your wine!" she railed at him but got no response.

  Gwen grabbed the handle but the damn door was locked, not that it would've been a good idea to jump out at this speed. She thrashed, trying to slap the psychotic fucker, but couldn't reach, the belt was too tight. Instead, she started kicking the dash of his BMW.

  "Stop," Tyr growled.

  "Maybe you should've thought this through before kidnapping me, you dumb son of a bitch."

  Oh look, I broke the air vent. Good!

  "Dammit!" Tyr shouted, his voice echoing in the car, making her ears pop.

  He whipped the car over and stopped. The man threw open his door, marched around to her side and nearly yanked her door off its hinges. He radiated anger, his eyes glowing in the night, as he bound her ankles to the seat, then secured her hands to the lap belt. Try as she might to lash out, he was frighteningly strong. Tyr got this maniacal look when he pulled off a final length of duct tape and came toward her mouth with his giant hands.

  "Don't, I need to..."

  Tyr silenced her before she could finish.

  This wasn’t funny anymore and she really had to pee. An evil thought occurred to her as she looked at his fancy new car.

  Maybe he should've rented a van for his criminal misadventures.

  * * *

  Tyr

  Well there went my peace and quiet. He debated knocking Gwen out again, but that would only last so long.

  Tyr growled, scowling at the cracked dash, as he pulled back into traffic. He turned up the music and attempted to ignore Gwen while he debated what in the hell he was doing. Suddenly the car filled with the smell of urine. His head spun toward her so fast he got a cramp. Liquid poured down the edge of the passenger seat, soaking the floor mat.

  Just great! He’d scared the piss out of her—literally.

  But instead of abject fear, her expression was smug, and she batted her eyelashes with feigned innocence.

  "What the fucking hell?!" He punched the instrument display, shattering the glass and dials.

  Gwen flinched but quickly recovered and glared at him.

  Son of a bitch, he cursed himself as much as he did her.

  He pulled into the private garage of his building, parked and strode around to her door. Gwen bucked as he hauled her to the edge of the building, yanked the hose off the wall and proceeded to soak her from head to toe. The tape did little to muffle the bedraggled woman’s screech of outrage as he tossed her over his shoulder and headed inside.

  "Stop," he growled and slapped her ass. Anyone else and that would've shut them up, but not this woman, she just flailed and squealed louder.

  Tyr walked through the back hall, thankful no one was there. He could just hear Ruiz's mocking tone, “New pet?”

  Where the hell am I going to put her?

  His penthouse apartment was the only place that was truly private, since his clan came and went freely everywhere else in the building.

  Dammit to hell! I guess I’m sharing my quarters with a wild, un-housebroken banshee. This is what I get. I should've killed her myself!

  * * *

  Gwen

  Tyr plunked her unceremoniously onto the floor of a spacious open apartment, then stalked over and shut the door. The click of the lock sounded louder than it was.

  Oh God!

  He pulled out a knife and her eyes widened. Her gaze was riveted to the ominous blade as he approached. She would've pee'd now if she hadn't already.

  Maybe pissing in his car was a bad idea.

  Gwen started to panic as she struggled to scoot backward. Tyr loomed over her, and she almost fainted from the trepidation of what he'd do next. He was so large, he dwarfed her. She tried not to cry, or curl up in fear, but failed on both accounts.

  * * *

  Tyr

  Not only did the damn woman put him in a bad position, but to top it off she wrecked his car. As sensitive as his sense of smell was, no amount of detailing was going to get piss out of the seat. He’d have to sell the thing.

  He postured with the knife as he turned toward Gwen. She was wet and shivering. Her teeth clicked despite her attempt to clench her jaw. Her white shirt was see-through, and plastered to her goose pimpled skin. Gwen eyed the knife with wide, terror-filled eyes. Tears started to spill from them as she huddled on the floor.

  Tyr stopped in his tracks. His intense anger was instantly replaced with remorse. He'd stolen Gwen off the street, tied her up and taken her to a secluded location. The small woman had done her best to put up a good fight. Lesser men who'd crossed him hadn't shown half the bravery she exhibited tonight.

  He hadn't explained himself, since he had no clue what to say. Instead he'd growled and barked at her like a rabid animal. As he stared at her, overcome with fear, he felt immense shame. It wasn't a feeling he relished. She had such a smart mouth, he wanted to put her in her place. But looking at her he realized that wasn't true. No, he wanted her to look at him with something besides recrimination. But her flippant comments and baleful glares were far preferable to the look of absolute terror she gave him now. The room was filled with the pungent scent of her fear. It was a scent that would haunt him.

  "Relax."

  Gwen continued to watch him fearfully as he knelt beside her. She flinched when he grabbed her wrists and cut the tape, then moved to her ankles. Gwen slowly peeled the tape off her mouth.

  Tyr frowned, seeing how red her mouth, wrists and ankles were. He'd bound her too tight, and then her struggling had made it worse.

  Great job! You intended to save her from murder and keep her out the wrong hands, but so far you’re the biggest monster here.

  What could he tell her? He couldn't explain what he was without frightening her. He couldn't tell her she was gifted. It was doubtful she’d believe him, and if she did, she'd freak out. And the vision of her murder really wasn't going to go over well.

  Dammit. What the hell do I do? If I find whoever wants to murder her, that still leaves her damn prophetic blood.

  Gwen hugged her knees as she stared at him suspiciously. She had every right to view him that way. There was a time when his kind kept humans as pets and slaves. But humans weren't the only ones who had achieved a level of enlightenment over the centuries, and those who couldn’t see the error of the old ways were dealt with. So how did he now explain keeping a woman in his penthouse against her will? He was the highest authority, and his people followed his example.

  Shit. This fiasco was very ill conceived.

  * * *

  Gwen

  "If you're going to rape me just get it over with. You don't have to kill me. I won't tell anyone. I'll keep my mouth shut,” she mumbled, her chin quivering, as she eyed the knife in his hand.

  It was obvious he was a rich and powerful man, so even if she did tell, who would believe her or care?

  "I'm not going to hurt you," he huffed and tucked the knife into the back of his pants.

  “Please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this.”

  She’d pick-up and get the hell out of Diablo Falls. It was obvious she had over stayed her welcome.

  "I cannot." Tyr ran a hand through his blond hair, looking frustrated.

  He wasn’t the only one who was frustrated.

  “Why the fuck did you abduct me?” she snapped, tired of whatever twisted game the rich prick was playing.

  Tyr said nothing.

  Gwen jumped up and raced toward the exit. When she got there she froze, seeing the numbered keypad by the door.

  “No! Let me out of here!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, angrily tugging on the knob.

  She whirled around to find Tyr standing in the same spot with this impassive look on his face. She marched over and stood toe to toe with him.

  “Let me out!”
/>
  “I cannot.”

  She reared back and slapped him in the face. Tyr didn’t even try to stop her, and he didn’t flinch.

  “Ahhh!” she screamed in his face, but he didn’t blink.

  Gwen grabbed a nearby chair and threw it as hard as she could at the picture window looking out onto the balcony. The chair broke but the window didn't, so she did it again, then a third time.

  "You’re an awfully destructive little creature, aren’t you?" he finally spoke as he coolly surveyed the carnage.

  "Is that all that you have to say? I'll break everything in here," she railed at him and tugged the last chair from the dining table, ready to throw it.

  Tyr swiftly gripped it and wrenched it from her grasp.

  "Enough!" he rumbled, his expression stern.

  “God forbid I break all your precious stuff,” she sneered as he took her arm and led her out of the room.

  Tyr sighed, his grip loosening. “You’re going to wind up hurting yourself. I can’t have that.” He reached up and brushed the damp hair from her face.

  Her brow furrowed at the disturbingly tender gesture.

  Her eyes widened, seeing he’d led her into his bedroom. She was about to pull away when he spoke.

  “Go shower, you are freezing. You can wear this for now." He handed her a clean dress shirt from a pile of dry cleaning, urged her into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Gwen collapsed onto the toilet and stared into the giant mirror. She looked like a drowned cat, her wet hair a tangled mess.

  Maybe a shower is a good idea. She was freezing.

  Gwen noticed a pair of scissors on the counter next to some clippers. Tyr said he wasn’t going to kill her, but that could change at any moment, if it was even true.

  I'll shower, but I'll be damned if I do it unprotected.

  She stripped but kept on her panties, grabbed the scissors and got into the fancy glass shower.