by M. L. Guida
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Jayden said, his voice even, hiding the fury burning inside him.
“I. Don’t. Know.” Robbie’s voice shot up an octave. “He said he’d meet me after the show.”
“Where?” Derek asked.
“Outside.”
Jayden stared hard at Robbie and tried to read his mind liked he’d seen countless vampires do in the Hollywood movies. Nothing came to him. Obviously that ability was pure myth. That, or he didn’t possess it. “You were going to try and ambush me in the parking lot, weren’t you?”
“We weren’t going to kill you.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” he said. He slid his flickering tongue over his white lips. “It’s not just you we want.”
Terror formed in Jayden’s gut, churning into acid. He knew what the bastard was going to say. “Eleanor. You want her too?”
“She’s the cause of this. Desmond wants to finish what his ancestor started.”
“What the hell is he babbling about?” Michael looked between them.
Jayden had enough of the games. Time for reality. “The truth.”
“What?” Michael and Derek said in unison.
“I’m a vampire. And Robbie and Desmond are vampire killers bent on killing me, Eleanor, and my mother. The only question remains is what side are you two on?” Michael and Derek stepped away, their faces ashen and their eyes snowball wide.
Jayden’s stomach tightened. Were they going to betray him like Robbie and Desmond? He was still Jayden. Nothing had changed. Why couldn’t anyone see this?
“See, I told you.” Robbie shuffled off the floor. “He’s going to kill us.”
“Fool, I could have killed you last night. In fact, I could have ripped all your throats out last night.”
“What do you want?” Michael gulped.
“To live. To exist.”
Robbie scoffed.
“Shut up, Robbie, just shut up,” Derek said, his soprano voice aiming for hysterics. He sat in a chair and cradled his head in his palms.
Michael met Jayden’s gaze. Emotions flickered in his dark eyes—fear, shock, worry. He raised his chin. “So, why didn’t you kill us?”
“Eleanor and I don’t kill humans. She’s got blood bags—”
Robbie pointed his finger at Jayden. “She’s a murderer. I told you—”
Before he finished another rant, Michael back-handed him. “Shut up, fuck head.”
Robbie crashed into the wall and rubbed his cheek. “Why you—”
Jayden hoped Michael’s anger meant he was at least willing to listen to what he had to say. “As I was saying,” he said, forcing a smile back. “Human donors give blood, and it gets delivered to her house.”
Derek raised his head. “You mean like a fucking milk man?”
Jayden shrugged. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve not killed anyone since I’ve turned. So, I need to know where you two stand.”
“Little thrown off,” Derek said. “It’s not everyday you find out your best friends are vampires and vampire killers. Turns your brain to gruel.”
Robbie rubbed his swelling cheek. “You can’t possibly be thinking of siding with this freak.”
Derek got off the chair and faced Robbie nose-to-nose. “He’s not the one kidnapping your mother, asshole. If you kill her, how the hell does that make you any better than him?”
“She gave birth to a vampire.”
The door slammed opened, and they all jerked around. Eleanor stood there with her dark hair swept up into a pony tail and wearing a pair of sleek black pants and tight black shirt.
Jayden’s cock hardened. If he and Eleanor weren’t facing kidnapping-psycho-vampire-killers, he’d grab her and take her back to her house and start where they’d left off. Her skintight clothing teased his senses. He wanted to run his hands over her naked skin. He licked his lips, remembering how she was hotter than any exotic dancer he’d ever seen.
She walked across the floor, her boots clicking on the hardwood. “Lucy Kye gave birth to sons. I’m the one who gave life to a dying man.” Her violet eyes changed to red, and a blur flashed across the room. The next minute, she gripped Robbie’s neck and lifted him off the floor. “I hear you’re looking for me, vampire murderer.”
Chapter Ten
Eleanor shook the fat slob, and he slapped her hands.
“Drop me,” he said as his spit trailed down her arm.
“Since you insist, blubber boy.” She released him, and he flopped and bounced across the
dressing room floor like a furry walrus.
“You’re Eleanor? I’m Derek.” The shorter man with blue-tipped black hair and more
tattoos than a Hell’s Angel stared at her as if she was a demon from hell. Maybe she was.
“Aye, I am.”
The walrus scooted against the wall. “If you’re going to kill me, kill me. Stop torturing
me.”
Eleanor curled her lip. “I’ve no intention of killing you. I want information. And I donna
like to be denied.”
“Why did you turn Jayden?” Derek asked.
“If I dinna, he would have died. Is that what you wanted? For him to die?”
“No,” the taller man with long brown hair said. Each time she saw him up on stage, he
wore a spiked leather collar around his neck, and she had the urge to slap her thigh and say here
boy. He held out his hand. “I’m Michael Aims, by the way.”
Eleanor wasn’t sure she should shake his hand. He raised his eyebrow and left his hand
out, daring her to shake it. Her heart rattling against her ribs, she scanned his green eyes for the
slightest hint of concealing a weapon stained with hallowed mud. She glanced at Jayden, and he
nodded. Taking a deep breath and hoping she wasn’t making another stupid mistake, she took a
chance and gripped his hand. “Eleanor Baines.”
He squeezed it slightly and bent over and kissed her hand. “Nice to meet you, beautiful.”
Eleanor wasn’t expecting such a sweet gesture and compliment.
Jayden stepped in between them, forcing Michael to release her hand. “Not this one,
Michael.”
Michael shrugged and flashed her a seductive smile. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
He was trying to seduce her? A vampire?
Jayden hugged her tight, a shield between her and her would-be-seducer.
“Michael, don’t you get it?” The fat walrus said, sweat dripping from his jowls. “She’s
put you on under a spell. She’s dangerous and must be destroyed.”
“Shut up, Dane,” Derek said. He turned to Eleanor and flashed her a smile. “It’s nice
to meet you.” He stuck out his thumb at the walrus. “And this asshole is Robbie Dane.”
“Don’t tell her my name.”
Derek scowled. “Will you stop whining?”
“I don’t know where Jayden’s mother is,” Robbie said. He shook his head, and his
jowls shook. He crossed his legs underneath his wide girth and made no movement to stand. He
rubbed his thick neck, and red hand prints circled his throat. Eleanor clenched her hands.
Intimidating humans and beating them up wasn’t her style, but Robbie hadn’t given her a choice.
He might be telling the truth, or he could be lying. She refused to lose Jayden or his mother like
she had her own family. This time, she could make a difference.
Jayden stared at Robbie as if he was seeing him for the first time—a deadly Benedict
Arnold. “Then maybe we’ll draw Desmond out.”
“What do you mean?” Eleanor said, not trusting where Jayden was going.
“We go on tonight and play like we normally do. Desmond will be hoping to see me
panicking—”
“You don’t know what he’s thinking,” Robbie said. “He’s a
master plotter.”
Eleanor detected fear in his voice. Despite Robbie boasting about Desmond’s abilities,
she wondered if he secretly had doubts about Desmond’s resourcefulness.
Derek kicked the heal of Robbie’s boot. “I mean it. Shut up, Dane.”
“Don’t touch me,” Robbie said.
Derek raised his fist, and Robbie cowered. “I can’t believe you and Desmond kidnapped
Jayden’s mother. Hasn’t she been through enough?”
Robbie clamped his jaw tight, a bull dog with an attitude, and Derek lowered his fist.
Eleanor frowned, not sure what Derek was talking about.
“My brother died less than a month ago,” Jayden muttered. His face whitened, and pain
dipped into those eyes. He hadn’t told her that his brother had died. After what they had shared,
why the secret?
The door swung open, and Eleanor whirled around, ready to rip out Desmond’s throat,
but stopped. Justin Hammer had his hands on his large hips. “What are you lug heads still doing
here? I’ve got an empty stage.”
Chills ran down Eleanor’s back. Jayden would be vulnerable on stage, easy for the
Vampire killers to ambush in the dark. “He’s na—”
Jayden held her closer. “We’re going right now.”
Robbie crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not playing.”
Justin knotted his eyebrows, and his face turned red. “Why the hell not?”
Robbie pointed at Jayden. “Because he’s a vampire.”
“Yeah? And I’m the tooth fairy. Now get your ass off the floor, Robbie. Or tonight will
be your last gig in Summit County.”
“We’re coming,” Michael said. He walked over to the other side of Robbie and nodded at
Derek. They both grabbed Robbie’s arms and lifted him off the floor. They grunted, and their
faces turned bright red.
Robbie twisted and kicked his feet like a fat little toad. “I’m not going on stage.”
Jayden released Eleanor. He rolled his tongue over his fangs and stuck out it out of his
mouth as if he’d turned into Kiss’s Gene Simmons. “Then I’ll bleed you. And tell everyone that
you slit your throat over being a fat prick. Choose, asshole.”
Robbie’s lower lip trembled. “You can’t make me play.”
Derek narrowed his eyes and leaned close. “Wanna bet?”
Michael shook Robbie’s arm. “If you don’t, we’ll take turns beating the shit out of you.
Now move.”
“This is crazy,” Eleanor said. “Jayden, you canna go out there. You donna know how
many killers will be in the audience.”
Jayden clasped her shoulders and squeezed. “What do you think will happen if we try to
slink out of here?”
She didn’t answer him. He kissed her lips briefly and indulged in tasting his masculinity,
but it was too short. Jayden was eager to face the enemy, an enemy that he still underestimated.
He put his hand on her lower back and escorted out of the dressing room. They walked in silence
down the hallway to the stage. The yells and claps and whistles from the crowd roared in
Eleanor’s ears. She had no doubt that there were killers in the audience, ready to kill them. She
couldn’t believe she was relieving the same nightmare as when she was transformed into being
a vampire. With Jayden, her rules had been broken. She wanted to be anonymous, now she was
visible. She wanted to live in peace, now she was at war. She wanted to be safe, now she was in
danger.
Eleanor braced her shoulders and tilted her chin, hoping she gave off the impression of a soldier ready to do battle rather than a mouse who wanted to scurry into the wall and hide. When she faced vampire killers, the fear pumped through her, but she refused to give into it. Her legs trembled and her knees knocked together so hard that she thought the men in the corridor could hear and would know how frightened she was. The men around her showed no emotions except for Robbie. His eyes were too sizes too big, and he reminded her of a frightened Homer Simpson. She could smell his terror, and his heart thundered as loud as hers.
Jayden escorted her to the usual spot next to a frowning Justin Hammer. “Stay here,” he whispered.
“Would you get your ass out there?” Justin demanded.
Jayden saluted Justin and winked at Eleanor. Eleanor shook her head as the band assembled to their instruments. Robbie held his electric guitar, and Eleanor had no idea whether the bastard would play or bash his guitar over Jayden’s stubborn head.
“Nightmare!” someone yelled outside. “Come on!”
Whistles and clapping hands and pounding feet nearly shook the small venue. The curtain opened, and jeers turned to cheers as the band opened with Hell’s Rock and Roll, and the cheers nearly blocked out Jayden’s husky voice.
Red, green, and blue Christmas lights streamed across the ceiling from one end of the bar to another. White lights circled around wooden posts at the bar. From the backstage, she scanned the audience looking for Desmond, but there was no sign of him. That didn’t mean anything. He was the manager and could be anywhere. Eleanor wished she had the ability to read mortal thoughts, but that vampire ability had not been gifted to her. Among vampires, her abilities were few. She possessed the traditional strength, speed, and agility. Some of the older vampires could fly and read thoughts, but tonight, she’d have to rely on herself and Jayden.
Men and women crowded the dance floor. Women flashed appreciative looks at Jayden. They stripped him with their eyes. Eleanor wanted to take a magic eraser and wipe off their leering faces. Jayden was hers. Or at least, she hoped he was. They had shared something special. She felt it, but this was a man who had shared lots of intimate moments with women, and she didn’t know how special she was to him. He said all the right things, but the Don Juan types always did. It’s when they were asked to actually to follow up on their flowery poses that they changed into Don Adios. She’d seen it too many times back in Ireland and here. The Don Juan’s would hold the cape up to their face, hiding their syrupy tongues and only showing their widening eyes as they slunk back into the darkness, never to be seen or heard again. Not the women. They had to live with regret, shame, and judgment.
The front door opened, and snow swirled into the bar. Two burly men wearing black leather jackets and jeans sauntered into the bar, white flakes dusted on their head and shoulders. Red bandanas wrapped around their heads, but tufts of blond and brown hair escaped. Hate reflected in those piggy eyes, and they stared up at the band, hands hidden in their jacket pockets. Eleanor couldn’t take her eyes off them. One of them made his way to the bar and turned. Eleanor’s swirling stomach nearly popped out of her mouth, and her lungs failed to fill with air. His jacket bore the skull with a sword through it.
There were two. Maybe more. Jayden announced they were going to do their version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” since Christmas was only three days away. Too surreal. He should change it to Satan is Coming to Town and cross out Christmas, hello Halloween.
People clapped and cheered, and the dance floor became a sea of squished bodies. A determined, tall, red-headed woman forced herself through the hopping and shoving people. Jayden gripped the microphone and was too close to the edge of the stage. A stage light flashed over the crowd and onto the woman. A black leather vest molded to her thin body, and on her bicep she sported the dreaded tattoo.
The hair on the back of Eleanor’s neck rose as if she were an attack dog at a junkyard. Muscles tensed. Eyes focused. Eleanor wasn’t sure what the assassin planned to do, but poised herself into her attack mode. Ready to fly across the stage and rip the hair out of the woman’s skull if she tried to whip out a stake.
Justin was muttering something to her, and Eleanor nodded, not caring
what the hell he was saying. Something about an energetic crowd. No, more like an angry mob during the 1960’s race riots, and the Klu Klux Klan was ready to force Jayden’s head into a noose and swing him from a tree.
The woman shoved her way to the stage and reached into her back pocket. A flash of silver reflected off the roaming stage light, and she held a small tactical knife, coated with dried mud. Eleanor didn’t need to think twice and charged.
“Hey where are you going?” Justin called behind her. He grabbed her shoulder, but she shoved his hand off.
The blaring guitars and banging drums melted his tiny voice. Using vampire speed, she darted around Derek jamming on his bass guitar and kicked the woman’s hand that clutched the small tactical knife. Her hand bent backward. She screamed and fell to her knees. The blade hit the floor and skidded across it like a hockey puck. People frowned and glanced from Eleanor to the woman holding her wrist against her chest. Eleanor swung her hips and danced with Jayden as if it were part of the show.
Dancing had never been her thing. Jayden’s version of dancing would make a stripper blush.
Her blood thumping through her veins, Eleanor followed Jayden’s lead and allowed him to move his hands down her arms and cup her ass as she leaned into him. She had a hard time concentrating with his intoxicating smell and husky voice, but she managed to keep her eye on the crowd for any more attempts.
A tall, lanky man held up the blade in his hand. Surprised painted on his face at the knife. The two goons at the bar barreled their way through the mix of pressed bodies, knocking men and women to the floor as if they were bowling pins.
One of them grabbed the knife out of the man’s hand and shoved it into his jacket. A scuffle broke out on the dance floor between the lanky man and the vampire killer until two men wearing black T-shirts with Mountain Grill and Bar on the front and bouncer on the back broke them apart. Eleanor wished the bouncer would throw them out, but no such luck. The other killer wrapped his arm around the woman and escorted her to a bar stool.
And Jayden inflated her worst fears. He broke into their song “War”. He pointed at the vampire killer lackeys. “Out on the street, that’s where we’ll fight.”
It was a challenge. Jayden threw down the gauntlet and wanted blood, their blood.
