“I’m here, Frankie.”
The words came from directly behind me. I whirled and almost smacked into Maximus, but what filled me with relief was seeing my friend. Marty stood next to the blond vampire, a small, tired smile on his face.
“Glad you’re okay, kid—”
He didn’t finish the rest of his sentence because I grabbed him, crouching down so I could hug him. A shudder wracked him as my previous fear sent a current into him, but he tightened his arms and didn’t let me pull away. I might be almost twice Marty’s size, but he had ten times my strength.
“You really okay, Frankie?” Marty whispered against my ear.
“Fine,” I whispered back, surprised at the strain in his voice. “Didn’t you hear? I arrived at least two hours ago.”
He let me go, glancing up at Maximus. “I was busy.”
The edginess in his tone made me take a good at him. Marty wasn’t in the same charred clothes he’d worn the last time I saw him, but his new outfit didn’t look much better. Both his shirt and pants were splotched with suspicious dark stains, not to mention his shirt had a big, ragged hole in the middle of it . . .
I darted behind him before Marty could guess what I intended. By the time he spun around, I’d already seen the matching hole on the back of his shirt. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what had caused the bloody entry and exit hole.
“What. The. Hell!” I spat.
Marty grabbed my arms. “Calm down. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” I shot back, waving at him as much as his grip would allow. “You’ve been stuck through the torso with a huge frigging pole! Where is Vlad? Did he know about this?”
Marty glanced at Maximus again, and fresh fury shot through me as the other vampire’s countenance became stony.
“He ordered it, didn’t he? Son of a bitch, he had you impaled! Why? To act out one of his crazy Dracula fantasies?”
“Shhh, he’ll hear you!” Marty gasped. His face paled, too, something I’d never seen before.
I was too pissed to worry about Vlad’s feelings. “I don’t care. It’s one thing to pretend with the name and the big Romanian castle, but this is insane—”
“For the love of God, shut up!” Marty interrupted.
“Good advice,” Maximus muttered.
I couldn’t believe Marty was more upset about me calling out Vlad for his sick role-playing than being speared like a fish. Maybe Vlad reacted violently to anyone questioning his fantasy. If so, he wasn’t just a little deluded, he was a madman—
“I can’t listen to this anymore,” an annoyed voice stated.
Marty’s face managed to drain of more color. Even if I hadn’t recognized Vlad’s voice, that alone would’ve told me who had come up behind me.
“Don’t hurt her, she didn’t mean anything by it,” Marty said at once, moving to stand between me and Vlad.
I wasn’t about to let him take more abuse, especially on my behalf, so I tried to angle myself in front of Marty. He kept sidestepping me with that damn vampiric speed until it looked like we were engaged in some sort of strange dance.
“Fine, I’ll talk to you like this,” I snapped to Vlad, Marty still in between us. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him, but you had him impaled. Tell me why I shouldn’t break our deal right now, and threatening me with death isn’t good enough. Been there, done that a thousand times, remember?” My lip curled. “Besides, you need me and we both know it.”
Vlad smiled with luxuriant coldness, coming closer. “Calling me a name I detest and accusing me of madness and lying. I’ve killed people for less, but you’re right. I do need you. So let’s settle the first two issues.”
Marty was suddenly gone. Vlad had thrown him aside before I’d even seen him move. A thud by the stone staircase told me where he’d ended up, but when I started to go to him, Vlad grasped my arm, his coppery green gaze boring into mine. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“What now?” I asked with open challenge.
His brow arched. “This,” he replied, and shoved a small, hard object into my right hand.
Chapter 11
Images exploded across my mind, but unlike most impressions, they weren’t through the perspective of just one person. They came from multiple people.
First, I relived the memory of an older man being cornered by soldiers. They held him down, jeering, as one of them cut away all the skin on the man’s face before slitting his throat. The next memory was even more brutal—a burning hot coal used to put out a young man’s eyes before he was buried alive. The third was of an even younger man who bore a striking resemblance to Vlad being ambushed and then stabbed to death inside a church. The last was that young man’s murderer, pleading to no avail, as a dirty and blood-streaked Vlad shoved a long wooden pole through his midsection, then hoisted him aloft and sat watching the entire two days it took the man to die.
When reality at last replaced those grisly images, I found myself backed into a wall, Vlad’s grip on my arms the only thing holding me upright. His gaze was hooded, lean face utterly expressionless as he looked at me. Phantom pains still lingered in various parts of my body, but they faded until only a dull ache from clutching whatever Vlad had given me remained.
I opened my hand, glancing down to see a thick gold ring with a dragon emblazoned across the wide, flat stone—the same ring each of those men had been wearing when they were killed. It was so filled with the essences from its former owners’ murders that I half expected it to start dripping blood.
The deaths I’d been forced to relive had conveyed more than the horror of knowing what it felt like to have my face cut off, which had been a new one even for me. I’d also gotten a glimpse into the murdered men themselves. From that, I knew all but the last of them had been members of Vlad’s family, and now I also knew exactly who held me against the smooth stone wall.
Shock made my voice come out hoarse. “You’re Vladislav Basarab Dracul, former voivode of Wallachia, but over five hundred years ago, they used to call you Tepesh. The Impaler.”
Vlad didn’t blink. “They still do,” he replied in a caressingly lethal voice, and then released me.
I was glad my legs managed to hold me so I didn’t slump to the ground. Falling before Vlad’s feet would be cliché in the extreme, even if he was the real Vlad.
I glanced at Marty. He was still by the staircase, but he seemed okay. Maximus was there, too. From the other vampire’s grip on his shoulder, he’d been keeping Marty from interfering.
“Could you hear what I experienced from touching that ring?” I asked, unable to contain a shiver at the memory.
“Yes and no.” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “When you utilize your power, your mind is locked behind an impenetrable wall. But when you’re finished, you think about what you saw, and I hear that.”
I tried to chase away any remaining thoughts of those murders, which was easier to do when I focused on Marty.
“Okay, now I know you’re not suffering under a delusion from too much role-playing.” The last of that trembling left my limbs and I took a step toward him, my voice sharpening. “It doesn’t excuse you from breaking your word not to harm Marty.”
Vlad folded his arms across his chest, drawing my attention to the dark stains on his shirt that smelled like one of Marty’s foul-tasting shakes.
“No, I promised not to harm you,” he countered. “I only promised to keep him alive, which I have. But though it never occurred to you that Marty might have been in collusion with the vampires who kidnapped you, the thought did occur to me.”
My mouth dropped. “No. Marty wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Thanks, kid,” he muttered from across the room.
“I believe that now,” Vlad said, glancing at Marty without the slightest hint of remorse, “but I wasn’t about to take a stranger at his word.”
His expression hardened even more. “I come
from a line of princes who all have one thing in common: They were murdered. I’ve been surrounded by death, betrayal, and power coups for hundreds of years, yet I’ve survived and kept my people safe by being smarter and more ruthless than my enemies. What I did may disgust you, but only the naive or the foolish would have trusted Marty on his word alone, and I am neither.”
He came toward me, and once again, I fought the urge to back away. Vlad might have kept his promise in the strictest sense of the word, but torturing Marty on the mere chance that he might have been involved with my kidnapping also proved that Vlad was one of coldest people I’d ever met.
Then again, after the glimpses I’d seen of his past, not to mention what I’d seen of him since we met, I was the naive fool for expecting anything different.
He stopped when he was only inches away, still nailing me with that hard, copper-colored stare. Then he held out his hand.
“My ring.”
I put it in his palm, forgetting to switch it to my left hand before touching him. A current sizzled into him with the contact, which I expected, but I didn’t expect what came next.
The gothic hall vanished, replaced by the hazy cocoon of midnight-green drapes encircling the bed I was on. I wound my hand into the thick fabric while a moan left my lips, sharpening into a cry at the incredible pleasure shooting through me. My grip on the drapes tightened as I writhed under the erotic combination of wet, deep strokes and lightly chafing stubble against my most sensitive flesh.
“Please,” I gasped.
Vlad lifted his head, his hair like dark silk against my thighs and his gaze lit up with emerald.
“No,” he said throatily. “More.” And he lowered his mouth again.
Vlad’s face crystallized in front of me, but instead of green drapes all around us, we were back in the hall and he was staring down at me, frowning.
“I know you caught a glimpse of something when you touched me. Your mind went silent. Tell me what it was.”
My cheeks flamed with heat. At the same time, disbelief washed over me, covering the remains of pleasure more intense than I’d ever experienced while masturbating. That hadn’t been a vision of him with another woman, yet still, denial screeched across my mind.
No. Not me and Vlad like . . . like that!
His frown cleared, replaced by a brow going up. Damn his mind reading. Think of something else! I mentally screamed, avoiding his stare. ANYthing else!
I no longer looked at Vlad, but I could almost feel his gaze roving over me, noting my newly tight nipples, accelerated heartbeat, and probably picking up on that damn lingering throb between my legs, too.
“Not surprising,” he said at last, his voice thicker with things I didn’t want to name. “I predicted the same thing myself.”
My cheeks continued to heat until I expected them to burst into flames like his hands. I brushed past Vlad and headed for the staircase, not daring to look at Marty, either. How could I? I’d just gotten a glimpse into a future where I was in bed with the man who’d tortured him.
“Nothing’s set in stone. I’ve changed my premonitions before,” I muttered, both to Vlad and myself. Still, I took the stairs two at a time.
Chapter 12
An hour later, Marty opened my bedroom door without knocking. He’d changed out of the torn, bloody clothes and had taken a shower, from the damp look to his hair. I was sitting cross-legged in bed, trying without success to pretend I’d misunderstood the image I’d glimpsed. Yeah, right. Because Vlad had been between my legs looking for a set of keys he’d lost.
“Frankie?” Marty said gruffly. “I don’t wanna bother you, but I don’t have long to talk.”
“Why? What’s going on?” I asked at once, leaping up.
Marty shut the door behind him, scratching one of his long, bushy black sideburns. “I’m leaving for a scouting mission.”
I didn’t ask, Scouting for what? “Vlad might not even be right,” I muttered. “Maybe no one told Jackal and the others to snatch me up. Maybe they thought of it all by themselves.”
“They didn’t,” Marty replied, grimness clear in each syllable. “That vampire from the hotel, Shrapnel, spent the whole plane ride grilling the redhead who took you—and he was creative. But that was nothing compared to what Vlad did once we got here. Next to that, I got off easy. They didn’t act alone. They were sent after you, but they didn’t know by whom. All they had was a phone number and a big deposit in their bank account with promises of more if you gave them the goods on Vlad.”
I sighed. I hadn’t really thought this would be over so quickly, but I’d hoped. “I’m so sorry, Marty.” I gestured at his chest, wanting to cry at what he’d been through. “He shouldn’t have hurt you.”
Marty snorted. “I’m happy to be alive. You probably guessed that I tailed you from Gibsonton, waiting until there were fewer vampires guarding you. When I realized it was Vlad I attacked, I thought I was done for. The only reason I’m not toes-up is because you made him promise not to kill me. I’d heard that he holds to his word. Never thought to find out personally.”
I managed a limp smile. “Since I’ll be spending time with him looking for this mysterious puppet master, is there anything else I should know about Vlad?”
“Yeah.” Marty’s expression became hard. “What you saw in that last vision . . . don’t let it happen.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my cheeks warm again. So Marty had figured out what I’d glimpsed, too. Not a shock; he was a vampire, and I’d been anything but suave in my reaction.
“Marty,” I began.
“I wouldn’t care if it was someone else,” he cut me off. “This isn’t about your inexperience with men.”
“Announce that to everyone, why don’t you!” I hissed, my eyes flying open. With how well vampires could hear, he may as well have tattooed a big V onto my forehead.
He waved a hand impatiently. “You’re missing the point. Vlad isn’t your typical vampire. We’re all ruthless at one time or another, but he’s in a class by himself. You let yourself get involved with him, he’ll rip your heart out and destroy your life, and if I didn’t love you like the daughter I used to have, I wouldn’t say this when I know damn well that he’s listening.”
The raw pain in his voice took away my embarrassment.
“Don’t worry.” I forced myself to sound nonchalant. “I know how dangerous he is and I don’t want to get involved with him. I must’ve had a case of temporary insanity because he’s immune to the electricity in my touch.” A shrug. “I’ll get over it.”
Marty chucked me on the hip. “That’s my girl. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but you watch your back.”
“I will,” I promised Marty. “When do you leave?”
Marty sighed. “Now. Give me a hug, kid. Love you.”
I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him, careful not to touch him with my right hand.
“Love you,” I whispered. “You watch your back, too, Marty. Don’t you dare let yourself get killed.”
He laughed a trifle grimly. “I’ll try not to.”
At nine o’clock on the dot, I came down the staircase. I’d considered refusing to join Vlad for dinner after what he did to Marty—among other reasons why I didn’t want to see him—but avoiding him would be pointless. We had to work together to find out who’d ordered my kidnapping. I wasn’t about to let that person get off the hook.
Besides, I’d gotten over my embarrassment for my naughty vision about Vlad—and for Marty trumpeting the news of my inexperience for every vampire to hear. Was I supposed to be ashamed for valuing other people’s lives over my own needs? I wasn’t that coldhearted and ruthless.
I couldn’t say the same about the vampire who rose when I entered the dining room, his expression showing a flicker of surprise as he took in my appearance. To show that I wasn’t suffering from damaged modesty, I’d changed into a strapless black dress, the tight fit clinging to curves honed by countless hours of gymnastics. My norm
ally straight black hair now had waves of curls in it, and the red lipstick and smoky eye makeup looked good against my lightly tanned face.
That’s right, Voivode, I thought as his gaze swept over me a second time. I might be scarred, but I’m still tasty-looking, aren’t I? Too bad you’re not getting any of this no matter what that vision showed.
His lips twitched, but he held out my chair without comment. It wasn’t until after I sat down that he responded to my mental gauntlet.
“If your goal is to dissuade me from seducing you, taunting me with promises of failure won’t work.” He settled himself into his chair with an easy, arrogant elegance. “I enjoy challenges, but I don’t think it will be long until you’re in my bed.”
I’d been in the process of unfolding my napkin, but at that, I froze. He did not just talk about me with the same casualness as a dessert he’d eventually get around to eating.
Out loud, I said, “Ooh, someone’s got an ego.”
He picked up his wineglass, taking a sip before replying. “It’s not ego, I’m used to women chasing me. With your age and inexperience, you normally wouldn’t stand a chance. But your abilities cut a swath of darkness through all that youth and innocence, making you quite intriguing.”
“Lucky me,” I gritted out, still steaming at his presumption.
Vlad smiled, as threatening and enticing as a whip curled around a champagne bottle. “Yes. People frequently bore me, sometimes amuse me, most often irritate me, but rarely intrigue me. You do, which is why I’ll enjoy having you as a lover.”
I couldn’t decide which was more insulting—him lumping me together with women who had “chased” him, or his continued conviction that I’d fall into bed with him. I glanced at the room with its cathedral-like ceiling, barbarically gorgeous chandelier, and seating for two dozen.
“No wonder you need such a huge house. Your overconfidence wouldn’t fit in anything smaller.”
He shrugged. “Confident I might be, but it’s not without cause. You think I’m dangerous and you’re angry at me over Marty, but even before your vision, I could tell you wanted me.”
Once Burned Page 7
