Carlos’s lip curled in disgust. For ages, he had tried to distance himself from just this kind of behavior, and now it was in his own backyard. He had seen enough. Without warning, he walked right through their wards, grabbed the closest one by the hair and yanked him backwards. The young vampire screeched, hissing that Carlos dragged him off the girl, his pants twisted around his ankles and his unspent member purple and bobbing up and down. With a flick of his wrist, Carlos sent him crashing into the wall, and he slumped to the ground in a cloud of concrete dust.
The other one quickly backed away, leaving the girl covered in blood and writhing on the bench as if high on ecstasy, her own hand shoved between her legs. His eyes darted back and forth while he crouched and hissed, baring his teeth like something out of a B-rated horror flick.
Carlos laughed scornfully. “That Hollywood vamp act isn’t going to work on me, amigo. Tell me…didn’t Sandro warn you about coming here? Or are you just playing hooky from daddy tonight? This entire area is mine and Sandro knows it.”
The one who hit the wall got to his feet. He turned his head side to side, cracking his neck before wiping his hand across his mouth, smearing a small trickle of his own blood across his cheek. “What makes you think we care what arrangements you have with Sandro?” he scoffed, pulling up his pants.
Carlos just looked at them. They were typical. Unbelievably beautiful, but dumb as a box of rocks—definitely Sandro’s type. Why should he be surprised? Sandro liked to surround himself with pretty boys, and couldn’t care less whether or not they had any intelligence. In fact, he preferred them that way.
“Are you really both that dense? Did you honestly think I wouldn’t smell Sandro on you? You both reek of him and his blood. He and I may not agree on many things, but the one thing we do agree upon is territory. As I said before, Avalon is mine, and I’m willing to bet daddy dearest has no clue you are here tonight…no? You two trespassers need to clean this mess up and leave or I will make you clean this up, then send you back to Sandro in pieces.”
“Yeah, right. We know all about you, amigo,” the one covered in concrete dust sneered, mimicking Carlos’s accent. Taking a step forward, he spit, raising his chin in defiant arrogance.
Carlos growled in warning, but the young blood ignored him. “Yeah, Sandro says you’re a pussy. That you used to be a real badass, but traded your fangs and your balls for a bunch of crybabies. Says you’re all a bunch of whiners wishing you were still human. Hey, why don’t you do all of us a favor and toast yourself, huh? Leave things for the real vamps.”
With a low and feral snarl, Carlos let his fangs descend and his face and jaw distort completely. He threw his arms up, solidifying the tattered wards with one word. He took a step forward and let his eyes flash from black to red. He let the full impact of his intentions hit, and when the two younger vampires’ eyes went wide, he sprang.
“Holy crap!” the one talking the most trash yelped as they both started to back away. In a flash, they tried to run, but Carlos moved like lightning. His bloodline was older and stronger, making the young bloods no match. He grabbed them each by the throat, raising them above his head and squeezing their necks until their eyes bulged before throwing them full force against the back wall. The sound as they hit was deafening, the crack causing the windows to shatter, splintering glass all around. Sheet rock and cinderblocks crumbled as sparks flew from snapped electrical wires.
The two vampires lay in a crumpled heap. Carlos squatted down in front of them, menace dripping from his voice. “If you ever trespass in my territory again, I will pull your fangs out with my bare hands, and they won’t grow back. Do not disrespect me again.” He took each of their arms and in one swift move, snapped them in two over his knee like so much dried wood. Unfortunately, they’d heal quickly enough, but not before they had to return to Sandro and explain what happened.
Carlos stood up, leaving the boys in a broken pile on the floor. Looking around, he snuffed out any potential fires, but decided to leave the mess as a message for anyone else who might be lurking in the shadows looking for a challenge. Turning, he spotted the now terrified girl cowering in the corner. The glamour they had spelled her with had worn off and her eyes were wild with fear. She screamed as he approached, scrambling even farther back against the wall.
Gently he held out his hand, spelling her so she would calm down enough for him to help her up. With his tongue, he cleaned her neck and shirt the best he could, healing her wounds completely. Straightening her skirt, he wiped her memory. “Find your friends. Tell them you feel ill and need to go home immediately. Under no circumstances are you to linger.”
As he picked up her purse from the floor, he awakened her, handing it to her as if she had only just dropped it. With a subtle wave of his hand, he let her walk out ahead of him, confused but otherwise unharmed. He watched as she disappeared into the crowd.
“What a waste,” Carlos sighed looking around at the mess.
The young ones stirred. They might have been stupid and arrogant, but the instinct for self- preservation was a vampire’s greatest asset. He knew they’d skulk off into the night licking their wounds, talking trash as soon as they were at a safe distance. However, they were Sandro’s problem, not his. He had other fish to fry, so for now he would leave the wards intact until he had time to deal with the situation.
With a last look of disgust, he brushed off his clothes. Minuscule shards cut his palms, healing instantly before they could even bleed. The music penetrated the wards, and behind the miasma, it was just another Friday night. Carlos intended to enjoy the rest of the evening regardless of Sandro’s untrained fledglings.
Picking the last bits of concrete from his tie, he glanced up. A woman stood in the open doorway, staring at him. It was obvious she could see right through the wards, and by the look on her face, had been standing in shocked disbelief for quite some time. A round silver tray hung limply from her hand, and her pen and pad were on the floor by her stilettoed feet.
Carlos moved quickly, positioning himself to silence her if she started to scream. He needed this added complication like a stake through his heart. The woman didn’t move or blink. In fact, if it weren’t for her heartbeat he would swear she wasn’t breathing. She stared at him with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. He could smell the fear rolling off her skin, keeping her immobile, but there was something else riveting her as well. However, he couldn’t place it.
Raising his fingers to her face, he expected her to flinch, but she didn’t. Gently he brushed the side of her cheek, glamour radiating from him in waves. “The back stairwell is off limits. It’s being renovated. You know this. You. Didn’t. See. Anything.”
She tilted her head, exhaling slowly, her breath sweet and full of life in his nostrils. As expected, he watched her eyes glaze over. She blinked a few times, but then remarkably met his gaze dead on. “Like. Hell. I. Didn’t.”
Carlos’s eyes narrowed, but before he could question her, she was gone, disappearing into the throng on the dance floor. Stunned, he blurred after her, scanning the club as he ran. But the place was too crowded to decipher anything.
There was no sign of her. But how? How did she get away from him without warning? Furthermore, how was she able to see through his wards? Picking his way toward the bar, he searched the faces on the dance floor and the surrounding tables.
“Can I get you anything?” the bartender asked, putting two bottles of Heineken down on the bar next to Carlos.
“What? Yes. Bacardi 151, neat.” Distracted, Carlos’s mind raced through possibilities while the bartender filled his glass. Throwing a twenty on the bar, he picked up his drink, but stopped halfway to his mouth. The girl had a tray in her hand. He frowned. Talk about being slow on the uptake tonight. Catching the bartender’s eye, he raised his hand calling him over. “There’s a cocktail waitress…long, auburn hair, really green eyes. You know her?”
Putting a couple of glasses under the beer tap, he gave Carlos a quic
k once-over while working the levers. “Sure, I know her. What’s it to you?”
“She’s a very pretty girl. Just wondering what her name was, that’s all.”
Putting the two drafts on the bar, the bartender picked up a towel and wiped his hands. “Look, you’re wasting your time. You’d do better with any one of the honeys hanging out by the dance floor. They’re the ones on the prowl, not Trina. She’s not the type.”
Nodding, Carlos raised his glass to his lips. “Thanks for the tip.” Turning around he leaned his back against the bar facing the dance floor. He inhaled, taking in all the heightened scents. “Trina,” he whispered. The taste of her name lingered on his tongue, and for the first time in centuries, the dark alcohol burned as it slid down his throat.
Chapter Two
Trina was dreaming again. As always, she stood at the edge of a narrow path, the familiar echoes from a distant waterfall greeting her like an old friend. Turning her head to the south, she caught a whisper in the breeze, a gentle prompt beckoning her to follow. With her eyes closed, she moved nimbly along, savoring the call of the birds winging overhead and the feel of the cool, pine-scented air rippling along her skin. Everything was intensified. Everything she heard and smelled, and everything she felt. All of her senses heightened—save one.
She opened her eyes, but no light or shadows penetrated the darkness. The blindness didn’t alarm her. She smiled instead. It meant only one thing…he would come.
Reaching her destination, she stood as before at the edge of a clear pool, the clean, loamy smell of fresh water strong in her nose. The atmosphere was tranquil. She heard the water lapping gently against the rocks and mud, while the sound of insects buzzing among the reeds filled her ears.
Trina knew she was dreaming, aware that this surreal setting was nothing more than a product of her own subconscious. What she didn’t know was why this exact dream? For the past two weeks it didn’t matter how or where she fell asleep, she always ended up here.
The woods behind her were a cacophony of sound, as if the same anticipation that coursed through her body also rippled through forest. Feeling around behind her, she quickly found the same smooth, rounded boulder that was always there. Lowering herself slowly, she sat down to wait. He would come. She knew it, felt it. He would come as he had before, or why else would she be here? Why else would she be without her sight?
The forest grew quiet. Even the buzz of the insects had muted. She smiled as the air around her changed subtly. She didn’t turn around. She knew who it was, and held her breath.
He came up behind her and slid his hands onto her shoulders. Gently he brushed her hair to one side and kissed her neck. “I knew you’d be here,” he whispered in her ear.
Trina closed her eyes and leaned back against him. His voice was so familiar, setting every nerve in her body tingling. “Yes,” she murmured, tilting her head, allowing his lips to wander along the curve of her throat. “But why am I here?”
Nuzzling her neck, he feathered kisses along her jaw line. “You are here because it is what you want, yet what you fear. You search, but refuse to see.”
Trina shivered, feeling his cool lips leave her skin. Trailing his fingers along her cheek, he stepped around and pulled her to standing, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Reaching up she traced the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, his cheekbones and the feel of his lips beneath her fingers. “Then why are you here?”
She felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile, his breath whispering gently into a soft kiss. “I am here because your blood called me.”
She didn’t understand, but then again, when had dreams ever followed the path of logic? Breathing in his scent, all her questions ceased as her senses took over. Trailing her hands lightly over his chest, she pressed herself against him, locking her arms around his neck. Trina twined her fingers in his hair as his lips sought hers. There’d be no more talk.
He kissed her long and hard, leaving her breathless. When he finally broke their kiss, he lifted her in one swift motion, carrying her away from the water’s edge. Trina held on to his neck, her own body humming with need as he laid her down on the soft grass, its sweet smell a perfect counterpoint to his clean, masculine scent.
Leaning over, his hands traveled the full length of her body, memorizing every curve. With her nightgown gathered around her hips, she pulled one leg in, resting her bent knee on the ground, her most private parts open to his touch. She trembled, not certain if it was the chilled night air or the touch of his fingers that left her quivering.
He worked his way back to her mouth, teasing her, grazing her bottom lip with his teeth, drawing blood. With a quick rasp of his tongue he lapped at the droplets, whispering the word “soon,” into his kiss, tempting her until—
The phone rang.
Trina rolled over, its shrill tone pulling her back into reality. With one eye open, she groped around on her nightstand, knocking almost everything, including the phone to the floor. Ugh. A faint voice called her name repeatedly as she leaned over the edge of the bed for the handset. “Okay…okay,” she grumbled, flopping back onto her pillow. “Hello?”
“Well, it’s about time you picked up the damn phone! Girl, do you know what time it is?” Louie yelled over midday traffic.
Trina pulled the phone back from her ear. “And good morning to you too, Louie. What time is it? Why are you calling so early?”
“Hmmph…it’s not early. Not if you still want me and Susan to help you today. You’d better get that sweet ass of yours out of bed, because we’re downstairs at the front door loitering like a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses!”
Trina grabbed the clock off her nightstand and stared at it in disbelief. “It’s one o’clock? Oh, my God… Louie, I’m so sorry,” she stuttered, stuffing her feet into her slippers. “I’ll be right down.”
She tossed the cordless phone onto her bed and threw a sweatshirt over her pajamas, yelling, “Coming…I’m coming,” as she scrambled down the stairs.
Rumpled and still bleary, she hurried over and unlocked the front door. “I’m so sorry, guys! Thanks for waking me up. I can’t believe I overslept.”
Susan gave Trina a hug, then shrugged out of her jacket. “No problem, sweetie. We weren’t waiting that long, but you know how impatient Miss Congeniality here can be.”
Louie rolled his eyes. “I’m just going to ignore that.” Looking at Trina, he frowned, his glance sweeping her face and the dark smudges beneath her eyes. “Honey, talk about a train wreck! You look terrible. Are you feeling okay?”
“Subtle as always, Louie. And before I’ve had a cup of coffee, no less,” she teased, stifling a yawn. “I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping too well, that’s all.”
“School?” he asked, draping his leather jacket over the banister.
She shook her head, closing the front door. “No, I wish it was that simple, at least then I’d know what to think.” She hesitated, not sure what to say. “I never told you guys, but something weird happened at the club a couple of weeks ago. I still can’t figure it out, and it’s been haunting me ever since.”
Susan tossed her jacket alongside Louie’s and dropped her purse on the floor next to the stairs. “Honey, you wouldn’t believe some of the bizarre antics I come across during my shifts. What’s to figure out?”
Trina shrugged. “That’s just it, I can’t remember. It’s as if my memory is malfunctioning or something. I know in my gut something happened, something terrifying. But every time I try to piece it together, I get a dull headache. It’s all fuzzy, like bits and pieces from a nightmare. And now I keep having these intense dreams.”
“Oh, honey, that’s horrible! With nightmares like that no wonder you’re not sleeping.”
Trina exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Except it’s not fear keeping me on edge. My dreams are intense, but they’re definitely not nightmares, more like hardcore porn,” she admitted, heat flooding her cheeks.<
br />
Both of her friends just stared.
“Porn? You?” Louie smirked, one eyebrow arching almost to his hairline.
“It’s always the quiet ones,” Susan said with a sly, shit-eating grin. “Care to share?”
“Not a chance!” Trina chuckled, but still wasn’t about to elaborate. How could she admit that every night she went to bed longing to have the same dream? That she was addicted to a lover who didn’t exist and whose face she had never seen. It was just a dream, but the problem was it felt real. How could she explain without sounding pathetic? She’d known Susan most of her adult life, and Louie for the past year. There was no need to guess what they would think. She needed a man, a real one and quick.
Louie pursed his lips. “Well, that’s promising,” he teased, drifting casually into the parlor. “Because we all know you’re not getting any while you’re awake.”
“Louie!”
“Don’t waste your breath, Susan, I’m used to it. I think Louie must have a bet going or something, because nobody else is as preoccupied with getting me laid as he is…not even me!” she said following him through to the parlor.
Louie sniffed. “Well, you know what they say; the longer you wait, the harder it is to get back on the horse. And honey, you’re getting to the point where we’re going to have to use a crowbar to pry those legs apart just so you can mount up!”
“Ha! You’re just lucky my great-grandmother isn’t around to hear you talk to me like that!”
Susan held up a hand. “She’s right, Louie. You’re no match for that one. Walking stick and all, she’d come after you with a bar of soap!” she said, shooting Trina a wink. “How’s she doing by the way?”
Trina sighed. “Nanita’s good, I guess. I go see her every day and she seems to have accepted the fact that she needs assisted living. She has aged so much just in the last year. I need her to be in a place where I know she’s safe and there are people around if something should happen. I can’t go through what I did the last time I came home from work and found her on the ground.” Her voice cracked a bit at the memory.
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 49
