Vampire Bound: Book One

by R. A. Steffan

  I watched, open-mouthed, as my larcenous neighbor returned the TV to its stand and plugged it in. After a moment, I pulled my focus back to Zorah’s undead boyfriend. “Those are from Jace’s room,” I managed, gesturing to the items he was carrying.

  Rans nodded and headed deeper into the apartment, while my neighbor—I didn’t even know his name—stood there slack-jawed in my living room.

  Leonides raised an eyebrow. “You want to do anything about him?”

  A wave of queasiness washed over me as I remembered the last time my boss had asked someone what they wanted to do with a person who’d wronged them.

  “No,” I said. “Just let him go.”

  It was Zorah who flashed a molten-bronze gaze at the man. “She knows what you did,” she said. “Be glad she’s a nice person. Now, go home and stay out of trouble.”

  I looked nervously at the workmen, but aside from a couple of disinterested gazes, they didn’t seem to care about the little drama, or notice its paranormal twist. My neighbor, by contrast, went pale as a sheet.

  “S-sorry, lady,” he stammered. “I needed the money, sorry.”

  Then he fled the apartment. I stared after him, blinking.

  “Shower,” I said after a moment, and trudged toward the bathroom to make that happen.

  * * *

  To her credit, Zorah had been mostly right. I did feel slightly more human after taking a very hot shower and dressing in clean clothes. I put on my rattiest, most comfortable tennis shoes, after smearing antibiotic cream on the soles of my feet.

  Vampire blood had healed me, but I’d promptly scraped them up again getting from the street where I’d been dumped, back to the parking lot with the goons’ abandoned car. Len had set me up with a pair of comically oversized socks and even more comically oversized sandals for the trip back to my apartment. On the positive side, at least I hadn’t ended up with frostbite after the whole mess.

  Feeling much more like myself, I sallied forth to find that the workmen had finished replacing my door and gone. Rans was also absent, evidently having left to tackle round two of door repair at Zorah-slash-Len’s house.

  The smell of food drew a rumble from my stomach. Leonides was seated on one of my living room chairs, reading a copy of Sartre that had been collecting dust on a bookshelf next to the returned television. He glanced up at my appearance.

  “Jace is packing. Zorah’s cooking—and by that, I mean heating up canned soup and making grilled cheese sandwiches,” he said. Then he frowned. “You’re limping.”

  I frowned back. “No I’m not,” I lied.

  His lips twitched downward, the movement barely perceptible. He did, however, let it go. “You should probably pack some things, too. This is the first place your loan shark friend will come looking for you.”

  I was already painfully aware of that. “Yeah, I’m on it. Make sure Zorah doesn’t set off the smoke detector, will you? Unless something’s changed, I gather cooking’s not really her thing.”

  Packing was complicated by the fact that I didn’t know where I’d be staying or how long I’d be there. I figured one of those cut-rate motels where you could rent by the week was probably going to be my best bet—but really, I was severely limited by my current finances. For about the hundredth time in the past few days, I wanted to strangle Richard with my bare hands.

  On the positive side, I could save a few dollars on food with Jace gone, and I could turn off the heat in the apartment and unplug everything to save on the utility bill. But it was still unlikely that I’d be able to swing more than a week or two at a motel.

  I packed anything I absolutely couldn’t live without, including a folder of important documents that should probably have been in a safe deposit box to start with. Maybe once I was settled, I could pick up some temp work somewhere, since it wasn’t like my job at the Den was an ongoing concern at the moment.

  With my phone mostly charged, and my suitcase and overnight bag filled to bursting, I dragged everything to the front room and joined Jace at the kitchen table. “All ready?” I asked him, as Zorah pointedly put a bowl of tomato soup and a plate of toasted cheese in front of me.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he said, using the crust of a sandwich to mop up the last of his bowl’s contents. “I’m taking my laptop along—that’s okay, right?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “Laptop, phone, chargers. And don’t forget it’ll be pretty warm in the daytime in T or C. Still chilly at night, though.”

  “I know,” he said. “I have been there before, Mom.”

  He sounded aggrieved in typical teenage fashion, and I found the normalcy oddly reassuring. “Sorry, babe. Just being an overprotective parent. It’s in the contract—you should’ve read the fine print.”

  Jace exhaled a put-upon sigh.

  “If you’re done eating, grab a quick shower. Then we need to leave,” I told him.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be ready in twenty.”

  Leonides appeared in the doorway as Jace disappeared down the hall. “He’s a good kid,” my boss observed.

  For some reason, the words brought a lump to my throat. “Yeah. He really is,” I agreed, and turned to my food with single-minded focus.

  * * *

  The airport was crowded and noisy. We arrived with about ninety minutes to spare, and used up a good seventy of them standing in various lines to get scanned, documented, checked, and scanned again.

  I discovered quickly that Zorah was using an assumed name and forged I.D., driving home the fact that she was not the same broke waitress and part-time mental health volunteer I’d thought I’d known. I was also fairly certain I saw the flash of a vampiric gaze on a couple of occasions, smoothing the way through the security process.

  Whatever the case, we made it to the gate in time to meet with the airline’s unaccompanied minor liaison, who would ensure that Jace was seated and his baggage stowed on this end of the journey. The woman wouldn’t be traveling with him—the flight attendants had been apprised of his presence, and a different person would help him transfer flights in Denver. Then a third would escort him off the plane in El Paso, and ensure he was delivered safely into Malinda’s care.

  I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know how much extra all of this was costing, in addition to the expensive last-minute plane fare.

  A moment of irrational maternal panic hit as the liaison smiled and made to usher Jace toward the boarding gate. I wrapped my arms around my son, squeezing him tight even as he squirmed uncomfortably at the very public display.

  “Mom,” he muttered, “you’re embarrassing me.”

  I made myself pull away. “Sorry, baby. I’ll miss you. Be good for Grandma Sheng, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, looking around as though to make sure no one around us was listening. “I’ll text you from Denver, and again when we get to Grandma’s house, okay? Love you, Mom.”

  The last was a barely audible mumble.

  “Love you,” I mouthed back, and watched as he followed the airline employee toward the door leading to the jet bridge. Only when he’d shown his boarding pass and disappeared into the umbilical leading to the plane did I let out the breath I’d been holding and look away.

  “You want to hang out here for a bit and make sure the plane takes off on time?” Zorah asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. Thanks. That would make me feel better, I think.”

  We camped out in the waiting area. There was probably an app or something that could tell me when the flight left, but I wanted to see with my own eyes that Jace was safely on his way. The others wisely let me stew in silence. It occurred to me that if the pair of them hadn’t seen each other in months, the last twenty-four hours of crisis management probably hadn’t been the kind of family reunion they’d expected or wanted.

  “I’m sorry you two have been stuck doing damage control on my life,” I blurted. “Rans, too. This whole thing really sucks.”

  Zorah blinked at me. “Was that a vampire joke
?”

  “Probably not,” Leonides said. “Her vampire jokes are usually a lot worse than that.”

  I glared at them. “I’m serious.”

  But Zorah only shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, hon. My life is a major train wreck most of the time—just ask Rans. Or ask Len, for that matter. The way I see it, the larger the pool of friends and relatives who can help out with the latest derailment, the better off everyone is. So... welcome to the train-wreck club.”

  Leonides eyed her. “I’m not sure I appreciate that metaphor.”

  Zorah met my eyes and hooked a thumb at him. “He’s only an honorary member. Though honestly, on the rare occasions his life does go off the rails, it’s usually a complete fireball.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You die one time, and certain people never let you live it down.”

  She raised an eyebrow, a faintly haunted look lurking behind her dark eyes, though her reply was tart. “Two times, I think you mean.”

  “The second one hardly counts, Zorah.”

  I would’ve asked about it. Seriously... I would have. Only the jet bridge visible beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows was retracting, and the plane was taxiing away, guided by people waving orange batons. I stood, watching as it headed toward the runway, and out of my field of view.

  The other two followed my gaze. The minutes passed, and eventually the plane I was pretty sure was Jace’s reappeared, roaring down the runway and taking to the air with barely a wobble. It gained height, growing smaller and smaller until it was only a speck.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “I THINK THAT was the one,” Leonides said. “Departures board shows it as being on time. He’ll be in Denver in about two-and-a-half hours. Ready to go now?”

  The strangest combination of worry and relief twisted my insides. My child was cruising thousands of feet above the Earth, heading for a place more than twelve hundred miles away from me. But at the same time, he was no longer caught in the crosshairs that seemed to be trained on my forehead these days. I’d protected him... by sending him someplace where I couldn’t protect him.

  “Sure,” I said, only to trail off as the question of ‘Go where?’ moved to the forefront of my thoughts. “I... um... I’ll need to go back and get my car. You can just... drop me at my place, I guess.”

  Something of my dilemma must have shown on my face, because Zorah stopped me from heading toward the terminal exit with a hand on my arm.

  “Whoa, Von. We’re not just dumping you somewhere and bailing on you. Look... this is a bit awkward since Len’s already staying there, but there’s a second bedroom at my place. We could get it cleaned up, and—”

  “That’s not necessary,” Leonides interrupted, before I could come up with an excuse about not wanting to impose on Len any more than I already had. “There’s plenty of room above the Den.”

  My heart gave a surprised little thud-thud, even as Zorah’s face lit up. She looked between us with an expression that could only be called heart-eyes, and I gave her a quelling glance. I’d drawn breath to speak, but it was caught fast in my lungs as I tried to drag words together.

  She beat me to it. “That’s even better. The penthouse makes a damn good haven, as Rans and I have plenty of cause to know.”

  I was still trying to reconcile that offer with what I thought I knew about Mr. Reserved. Sure enough, Leonides cleared his throat.

  “There are other empty apartments beneath the penthouse, Vonnie. I wasn’t trying to imply—”

  “No, that’s fine,” I said quickly. “Sorry. I mean, thanks. If there’s a vacant one where I could stay for a day or two while I arrange for something else...”

  Zorah looked between us. “Oh, my god. You two are killing me here.”

  Leonides shot her a severe look, which she ignored.

  “We should... uh... probably go,” I said, gesturing in the direction of the main terminal.

  Zorah shook her head at us, but she headed in that direction with a resigned expression. I let my eyes drift to the large windows and the cloudy sky beyond for a final few seconds, praying silently for a smooth and uneventful flight. Then I followed the others out of the airport building, back to the fancy SUV, and into the afternoon traffic.

  Leonides drove me to my apartment complex, just as I’d requested. My luggage was in the back, so there was no need to go inside. I directed him to where the Taurus was parked, in my unit’s assigned spot. God... the broken backseat window was still covered by nothing more than a plastic trash bag duct-taped to the frame. The thing probably wasn’t even legal to drive right now.

  With everything that had happened since then, I’d forgotten all about the window. This new little chunk of stress piled on with the rest—more money I couldn’t afford, more hassle I didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with.

  At least neither of the others commented on it.

  “Do you need to drop Zorah back at her place?” I asked. “Because I can just meet you at the club. I’ve still got my keycard for the employee entrance.”

  “No need for that, honey,” Zorah said, stepping out of the SUV. “Flying’s faster anyway.”

  Right. Because my friend and former coworker was a vampire...demon... something. And she could fly. I opened the door on my side and got out as well. Leonides did the same, heading for the rear of the vehicle—presumably to retrieve my luggage. Zorah circled around to stand in front of me. Her hands closed on my shoulders, squeezing lightly until I met her eyes.

  “Hey,” she said. “Go to the Den. Get some food. Get some sleep. Try to turn it all off for a few hours.” Her thumbs rubbed up and down, soothing. “You’ve got this, even if it feels like you don’t, okay? And you’re not alone.”

  I managed to nod, but that was all. Anything more might have started the waterworks again, and I’d had more than enough of that in the last twenty-four hours already. I lifted a hand to squeeze one of hers, instead.

  “Keys?” Leonides called, distracting me from the moment.

  I fumbled in my bag and crossed to unlock the trunk, opening it so he could lift the luggage into it.

  “Thanks,” I managed.

  “I’ll follow you to the club,” he said. “The entrance to the parking garage is on the north side. The code for the keypad to get in and out is eighty-one-forty-six.”

  “Right,” I said, running it through my head a few times in hopes that it would stick.

  Zorah stepped forward to hug Leonides, who lifted an arm around her shoulders to return the brief embrace.

  “If you need us for anything, we’re staying at the Four Seasons Hotel downtown,” she said. “We’ll be under the usual names. Take good care of my friend, Guthrie. We’ll swing by the club around noon tomorrow, to talk next steps.”

  My eyebrows went up.

  “I’ll see you both then, Zorah,” said my boss. Whose closely guarded first name was apparently... Guthrie?

  Huh.

  Zorah turned back to me. “Bye, Von. Remember—food. Sleep. No panicking.”

  “Right...” I said, as she dissipated into mist and swirled away.

  I set aside the impossibility of what I’d just seen in favor of staring at Leonides in consternation. “Don’t take this the wrong way, boss... but is your first name seriously Guthrie?”

  “It was a fairly popular name in the early nineteen hundreds,” he said.

  Which... wasn’t exactly an answer, but, okay. Whatever the case, he’d aged better than the name had.

  “Right,” I said. “I hate to say it—but popular or not, it doesn’t really jive with the whole ‘darkly mysterious rich club owner’ thing.”

  “Well,” he pointed out, “there is a reason I don’t use it much these days. It’s not too much of a stretch for a demon-bound investment manager. Bit more of one for the public face of a swanky jazz club.”

  I shook myself free of the moment of cognitive dissonance. “It’s your real name, though? Guthrie Leonides?”

  He sighed. “Guthrie,
yes. Leonides, no. The demon I sold my soul to halted my aging in the late ’fifties—long before I became a vampire. And believe it or not, people start to get a bit antsy when your appearance doesn’t change after a decade or two. Easier to slip into a new life when that happens.”

  What a lonely existence that sounded like.

  “Maybe we should get back to the Den now,” I said, aware that we were standing in my building’s parking lot, when Ivan could send his surviving goons here looking for me at any moment.

  He stepped back, opening the way to the Ford’s driver-side door. “Lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I got in the car, trying to focus on the basics like Zorah had said. Leonides—because I absolutely was not going to be able to think of him as Guthrie—strode to the Cadillac, his long coat sweeping behind him.

  After weeks of working there, the route from my apartment to the club had become instinctual—something I didn’t have to consciously think about. That was both a blessing and a curse, since it introduced a misleading sense of normalcy while also allowing my thoughts to wander.

  I had no idea what to do about the Fae who seemed to have such an interest in me. I was, however, going to have to make a decision about dealing with Ivan. Yes—he should, by rights, be Richard’s problem, not mine. But as I was the one currently being driven out of my home by fear of mob execution, he was clearly my problem now.

  With Jace safely away, going to the police or the feds was the obvious, and probably correct, response. However, I was haunted by the idea that Teague was somehow wrapped up in the situation—especially after some of the things Leonides and Zorah had said about not being able to trust the police, and about the Fae controlling human institutions for their own ends.

  The club came into view. This time, instead of driving past it to look for curb parking down the street, I turned right and headed for the entrance to the underground parking garage reserved for building tenants and VIPs. A sturdy barrier blocked the way as I pulled to a stop next to the security keypad.