Vampire Bound: Book One

by R. A. Steffan

What had the code been? Eighteen forty-six? No... eighty-one forty-six, that was it. I rolled down the window and keyed it in. The arm rose smoothly. I glanced in the rearview mirror to confirm the Cadillac was still behind me, and drove down the ramp to the parking area.

  After carefully pulling into a spot, I turned off the engine and got out. I turned from getting my luggage out of the trunk to find Leonides approaching me. He took the heavier of my two suitcases without a word as I locked up the car, and led the way to the bank of elevators in one corner. I was thrust back to the night I’d arrived at the club as a paid prostitute, when Maurice had ushered me up to the penthouse suite in a secure elevator.

  This elevator had more buttons than just ‘P’ for parking, ‘G’ for ground floor, and the eighth floor. Presumably, it was the one other tenants used to reach their apartments. I wondered idly what the rent was in a place like this, before deciding I was happier not knowing. Leonides directed us to the seventh floor, where there were apparently three units. The door marked 7B opened with the keycard he pulled from his trouser pocket. Then, he handed the card to me.

  “It’s furnished,” he said, “and I arranged for the building manager to have some basic groceries delivered when it looked like you might need a place to stay.”

  He stepped inside with my suitcase and turned on the lights. I stared at him, and then I stared at the echoing space inside the door, because... what? The place was easily four times the size of my apartment. Elegantly furnished and spotless, it looked like something out of a lifestyle magazine.

  He’d had groceries delivered.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked, hearing an almost plaintive note entering my voice.

  He set my suitcase down in the living area just beyond the entryway. Tentatively, I stepped inside the perfectly staged room and let my overnight bag drop to the floor next to it. When I looked up to gauge his expression, it was to find something haunted behind his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone... or at least hidden.

  “I’m doing it because I can,” he said. “And because you’re getting sucked into the paranormal world, despite my best efforts. I know what that looks like. I know what it can do to someone.”

  I crossed my arms tightly in front of my chest and paced, despite the protest from my sore feet after trekking through the airport earlier. I couldn’t cope with my worries about Ivan right now, so I fretted over something else instead.

  “Why does Teague have it in for you so badly?”

  Leonides let out a soft exhale, rife with disgust. “Politics, mostly. Well, that, and the fact that a lot of Fae are assholes.”

  “What’s going to happen with the club? I mean... if they have judges and city officials in their pockets...?” I let the thought trail off.

  “Then it’ll make for an interesting chess match, I guess,” he said. “The books are clean—like I said, I’d have to be an idiot to do that kind of dark money shit on U.S. soil. So he’ll have to show his hand when it comes to which officials he’s controlling.”

  “You’re mixing up your gaming metaphors,” I pointed out, still pacing.

  He shrugged. “Whatever the case, I spent so long making money for other people that making it for myself at the same time became sort of ingrained. I’m irritated enough at this point that I don’t mind throwing a bunch of that money at this situation, especially if it helps drag some corruption into the public sphere of awareness.”

  “And where do I fit into all of this?” Desperately, I wished I could remember what had happened with Teague in the abandoned parking lot—if only to get a clearer picture of what the hell he wanted with me.

  “That’s a very good question,” Leonides said grimly. “Your resistance to his influence seems to be what originally caught his attention. I thought at first it might be your pendant, not you—but that theory has been pretty thoroughly blown out of the water at this point. Oh... which reminds me...”

  He rummaged in one of the pockets in his long coat, and came up with Mabel’s necklace. Zorah had slipped it into the coat when I’d been wrapped up in it last night after they’d rescued me, but I’d forgotten to fish it out before giving the coat back to its owner.

  “When I was out getting the SUV, I stopped at a jeweler’s shop and had the chain repaired.” He proffered it, and I held out my hand, palm up, cupping the garnet pendant so he could let the gold links slide into my grasp. “Like I said,” he continued, “you may need it in the future.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed, not having realized until that moment how much I’d missed the magical heirloom.

  It warmed in my palm, and I opened the clasp, replacing it around my neck without looking down. Leonides’ eyebrows drew together in consternation as it settled against my skin, still radiating a soothing heat.

  “Okay,” he said. “Well, that’s new.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  SOMETHING AKIN TO dread settled in my bones. I lifted the pendant so I could look at it properly—only to find the familiar uncut red gem glowing amethyst in my grip.

  “What?” I said faintly.

  My hand started to shake, because apparently this was the weird thing that marked one too many weird things happening in far too short a period. I’d been resolutely not thinking about the invisible power that had exploded out of me and destroyed a solid wood door. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. Something inside me had changed in a fundamental—and thoroughly impossible—way.

  I shook my head slowly back and forth in negation, aware that my trembling had grown worse as I stood staring dumbly at the pendant’s betrayal. How dare it make me face the fact that I wasn’t the same person I’d been a day ago? I wasn’t ready, there were too many other things going on that needed me focused and clear-headed—

  My breathing had grown ragged, lightheadedness turning the edges of my vision gray as I realized I was in danger of hyperventilating.

  A large hand cupped my cheek, urging my eyes upward, away from the necklace. The unexpectedness of the contact jolted me out of my impromptu panic attack, and I looked into dark brown eyes crinkled in concern.

  “Vonnie—breathe,” my boss commanded.

  “What’s happening to me?” I asked. “What did I do earlier, with the broken door? How did I do that?”

  He was standing very close, still cradling my cheek as I clutched the traitorous garnet in my hand.

  “I have a theory,” he said. “It’s something we can run past Rans tomorrow when he and Zorah come around to brainstorm our next steps. But it’s apparent that you have some amount of innate magic. A few humans do—I guess it runs in certain bloodlines. I’ll go out on a limb, though, and assume that drinking vampire blood amplified your natural magic, making it stronger.”

  I tried to stuff down my panic enough to think logically, even if this bizarre new world I’d been thrust into threw logic out the window. Magic was real. I’d seen people turn into mist and fly. I’d seen Fae and vampires control humans’ minds; I’d seen bullet holes knit themselves back together as though the wounds had never existed.

  These things had happened. They were part of reality, even if it meant my understanding of reality had been imperfect before now. It made a certain amount of sense that if vampire blood could heal and strengthen a human body, it might also strengthen human magic.

  “Okay,” I said, my voice wavering. “Okay. So... you’re saying it might only be temporary? Like, until the vampire blood works its way out of my system?”

  To my mortification, I realized that I’d lifted my free hand to clutch at his wrist without even realizing I was doing it. He didn’t mention it; his cool palm still rested against the side of my face.

  “It’s entirely possible,” he said. “I’m not the expert. Whatever the case, you’re not the only human in the world with magic. If Rans doesn’t have answers, I know another guy who might.” His other hand came up to mirror the first, cradling my head between them. “We’ll figure it out. Okay, Vonnie?”

 
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and nodded in his light grip, knowing I needed to keep it together. You’re not alone, Zorah had told me earlier. You’ve got this, even if it feels like you don’t.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still feeling as though I was about to crawl out of my own skin.

  “Okay. Yes. We’ll figure it out,” I said, opening my eyes.

  His proximity hit me anew—the earnest look in his eyes, the strength and tenderness in the hands holding me. Without meaning to, I licked my lips to moisten them, and felt a strange swoop in my belly when his gaze dipped to my mouth.

  I was obviously losing my damned mind, because the words ‘If that offer of a free orgasm still stands, this might be a great time,’ hovered on my lips for a fateful instant before I swallowed them back.

  He was my boss, for god’s sake. Mortification flooded me, and I released his wrist as heat rose in my cheeks. His hands slid away. I stepped back.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m... I think I’m all right now.”

  He cleared his throat, something of his usual cool mask returning... though again, I was struck by the troubled look in his eyes when he pulled away.

  “I should leave you alone to get some sleep,” he began.

  “Tell me something first,” I said, before he could retreat and leave me in the company of my own disturbed thoughts. “You told me you sold your soul to a demon like Nigellus.”

  Sudden wariness stiffened his shoulders. “Yes.”

  “What did you get in return?”

  It was an unforgivably personal question, and I half expected him to ignore it and leave. He stood wavering on the cusp for a long moment. Then, he spoke.

  “Remission from incurable cancer,” he said quietly. “For my wife.”

  The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

  “Oh,” I said.

  Suddenly, he looked every bit as old as he claimed to be—ancient and exhausted. “Rest, Vonnie. I had Jace add my number to your phone. If you need anything tonight, call.”

  I knew I wouldn’t be calling him tonight, though. Not after what he’d just told me.

  “Thanks,” I replied instead. “For all of it. I don’t honestly know what I would have done otherwise.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said—and I got the distinct impression he really would be happier if I never spoke of it again.

  He left me alone, and I collapsed onto the living room’s stylish loveseat with a thousand questions swirling in my head. God in heaven. Where another man might have sold his soul for money, or power, or personal gain... he’d done it for love. I almost wanted to cry.

  There was no Mrs. Leonides now. That was clear enough. Had she died of old age, withering away while he remained trapped in his early forties like a fly in amber? Had he come to resent his bargain with a demon? To resent her? But that wasn’t what I’d seen in his eyes. The old pain, the sadness that hung over him like a cloud even when he was hugging his granddaughter or bantering with his employees over bad vampire jokes... it was the pain of grief and loss, not resentment.

  What had happened to the demon? Leonides spoke as though he’d somehow gotten a reprieve from his personal devil... but that wasn’t how selling your soul was supposed to work. Where did Rans fit in? Where did Zorah fit in? When and how had he become a vampire during all of this?

  I had a feeling I’d lost the right to ask the rest of my questions the moment I’d asked the first one.

  Absently, I lifted Mabel’s pendant again. It had faded to its usual dull ruby color, but I thought I could still detect a spark of amethyst light in its depths. It was almost the same color as Leonides’ eyes when his vampire nature was roused. I tried not to read anything into that.

  If he was right, once the blood Rans had given me faded away, so would my bizarre new destructive ability. I tried to ignore the tiny voice at the back of my head that said being able to magically blast things might be useful the next time Ivan showed up. Or the Fae. Or a demon.

  I shook my head sharply.

  Food.

  Sleep.

  Not useless obsessing over questions I didn’t have the answers to.

  Grabbing my overnight bag, I did a quick circuit of the apartment, trying not to feel like an imposter for being in a place this nice. Two bedrooms, two baths, one of which had a ridiculously ostentatious jetted tub in addition to a glass-walled shower stall that could have fit three people in a pinch.

  The kitchen was all gleaming stainless steel, not a fingerprint to be found anywhere. It was stocked with the basics—milk, bread, juice, coffee, a selection of fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, butter. The freezer held frozen entrees. I pulled one out, not even looking to see what it was before I opened the box so I could shove it in the microwave. Pasta al carbonara with steamed asparagus, apparently. Not exactly the kind of cheap-ass Salisbury steak TV dinners I was familiar with.

  I heated it up according to the directions and ate without tasting it. Exhaustion was catching up with me in a big way now that there were no more distractions. When I was finished, I threw away the packaging and put the silverware in the sink to deal with in the morning.

  Though it was still only afternoon, all I could think about was sleep. With nothing else needing my attention, I gave into the urge and retired to the larger of the two bedrooms. The sheets were crisp and clean; the mattress, soft. I pulled off my shoes and lay down on top of the comforter, my phone resting on my belly, held in place by one hand so I would feel any notifications vibrating.

  I dozed until Jace’s text woke me.

  @ Denver airport. With airline guy, going to new gate now. Will text from NM.

  I texted back—telling him that everything was fine here... wishing him a good flight and asking him to give my love to Malinda. There was a layover, so it would be hours yet before he reached El Paso and texted again.

  I’d charged my phone at my apartment earlier, and it was still at eighty-five percent. Rather than go rummaging through my luggage for the charger so I could plug it in again, I stuck the cell in my handbag on the nightstand. Flopping back on the bed, I wrestled the covers out from under my body and flipped them over me.

  I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. All I knew was that I felt completely unprepared for it. I sighed heavily, staring at the textured whirls of the ceiling. Despite my endlessly circling thoughts and the daylight still slanting into the room through chinks in the blinds, it took almost no time at all for me to fall asleep.

  * * *

  In my dreams, I relived the panic of trying to get Jace away to safety before the men at our door broke in. Once again, I was shoved into a car and taken before Ivan, while a half-seen form with blond hair and green eyes watched with interest from the shadows. Time stretched like molasses, leaving me suspended in the dull horror of knowing things were about to go catastrophically wrong for what seemed like ages.

  Inevitably, though, I was dragged forward and held in place, a gun pointed at me from behind. The impact of the first bullet in my leg jerked me awake with a muffled cry, my heart racing and the formerly crisp sheets now damp with sweat.

  There was a clock on the bedside table next to me. I blinked at it blearily until he numbers made sense. It was still early—I’d only managed a couple of hours of sleep before the nightmares took me. Jace’s flight would be leaving Denver soon, but it would still be more than two hours before I could expect to hear from him. Right now his phone would probably be turned off as the plane prepared for takeoff, so there was no point in trying to contact him.

  I needed a distraction.

  My skin felt sticky and unpleasant from the cold sweat of fear. For lack of any more appealing options, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and turned on the lamp. This apartment had an amazing bathroom with a ginormous jetted bathtub. I was disgustingly clammy. The math was simple enough.

  The bedroom blinds were closed, but a bit of dusky light still filtered into the rest of apartment. Grabbing my toiletries
from the overnight bag, I stumbled to the master bath next door and turned on the light. A pile of towels had been thoughtfully left by the sink.

  I was thirty years old, and I had literally never been in a bathroom this nice before. In fact, I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I’d had a hot, relaxing bath, period. With the dingy, shallow tub in my apartment, there hadn’t really been much point. I turned on the taps and let the bath fill, steam rising.

  What must it be like, to live in a world like this—where luxury was commonplace and money wasn’t a concern? Trying to picture how that would feel just made me vaguely queasy. Dangerous, my mind tried to tell me. Thinking that way will turn you bitter and angry.

  I shook off my musings and stripped, folding my clothes neatly and placing them on the counter. The water prickled hot against my skin as I stepped in. I’d never used a jetted tub, but there was an obvious ‘on’ button. Pushing it started up the bubbles, and I leaned back, trying to let my muscles relax.

  It was nice. Very nice. But it did nothing to stop my brain’s hamster-on-a-wheel routine as my mind’s eye helpfully replayed last night’s events in a continuous loop. I was going to need therapy after this mess, wasn’t I? I tried to picture a future where I still had my good-paying bartender job, but didn’t owe the Russian mob money. A future where I could put aside money for Jace’s college fund. Save for emergencies like broken car windows and unexpected air travel.

  And... pay for therapy.

  Yeah, right. I grunted in disgust and ducked beneath the surface, scrubbing at my face. When my lungs started burning, I surfaced and shook my head to clear my ears. This wasn’t working, though at least the tension in my neck and shoulders had eased somewhat.

  After opening the tub drain and turning off the jets, I climbed out—grabbing a fluffy towel to dry myself off before wrapping it around my body. Returning to the bedroom, I gave my damp hair a final rub before changing into a loose tee and pajama pants. A quick check of my phone showed no new messages, as expected. I still had a fair amount of time to kill before Jace’s flight landed, assuming it was even running on time.