To Have: Vampire Assassin League #19

by Jackie Ivie

  “Wow. Daron. I think that may have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

  “What do you mean ‘may have’?” he asked.

  She turned her head toward him. She caught him eyeing portions of her the sheet was no longer covering. He actually felt a flush overtake him as he moved his gaze back to hers. He could flush? It was as incredible as it was unbelievable. She lifted her eyebrows and sat, taking the sheet with her. And then she busied herself with tucking fabric all about her form. Long tendrils of hair trailed about her, too, adding another layer to her veiling.

  “You aren’t going to start the despotic potentate thing again, are you?” she asked when she’d finished.

  “No. Most assuredly, eshq-e man. I am simply wondering how I can add to my efforts. Last longer. Stay harder. Perhaps the alchemists truly did have some potion for virility that I should have procured.”

  She tipped her head to one side. “I so hope you are joking.”

  He didn’t know how to answer. So he didn’t. He simply sat up, too. He didn’t bother with hiding his nakedness. She had most of the sheet. So, he hooked his hands together and looped his arms about his knees to face her.

  “Come on, Daron. You are a world-class lover, with a package to back it up. Oh shit. Now I’m going to blush.”

  “You are? Why?”

  “Because I’m trying to have a conversation here...and it’s impossible while I’m looking at you. And. And. And you need to go put some pants on or something.”

  “My nakedness bothers you? Truly? I was known as a very handsome man. Much wanted by women. This is...a new feeling for me. Forgive me. I shall fetch my trousers.”

  He was off the mattress so rapidly it lurched slightly along its foundation, screeching a little.

  “Oh, come on, Daron. You have mirrors. You know you’re hot. I’m going to even go to an eleven here. Okay? That isn’t what I meant.”

  He found his discarded pants in a heap. They were a new pair. Fashioned of leather. They were stiff and cold against his legs as he pulled them on. Yanked on the ties about his waist to cinch them. Put his entire attention on tying a bow with precision. It helped calm any tremor.

  “Look. Daron. Come back here. We have to talk.”

  He searched through the pile of fabric for his tunic next. It was fashioned of thick silk and severely wrinkled from his misuse.

  “Don’t put that on. And get back here. Now.”

  She sounded serious. Daron turned to her, holding the shirt in front of him. It probably looked like a defensive move if he pondered it. He didn’t.

  “You heard me. Right now. Drop the shirt and get back here. Don’t make me chase you. I’m warning you.”

  “You would chase me?”

  She sighed heavily. It was loud in the stillness. “Look. Your Highness. I’m from New Jersey. I’m not wet behind the ears. And I’m not a player. We don’t go around telling gorgeous guys that they’re gorgeous. The heads on their shoulders are already big enough. They don’t need inflating. So. You coming back here or not?”

  “You think me...gorgeous?” There was a surge of something joyful that bloomed through his chest. It wrapped about his heart and squeezed with what felt like fingers. The shirt fell from inattentive fingers.

  “Look. Daron. You already nailed it. Every woman you run across is going to think you’re gorgeous, and if they knew the assets you have, well. You’d get crushed beneath the weight of women who want you. There. Does that feed your male ego enough?”

  He frowned. The words didn’t match the tone. She sounded almost angry. “I do not understand,” he answered

  “And that there is exactly why we need to talk. Right here. Right now.”

  “It is?”

  “Yep. So. You coming back over here, or do I really have to chase you? Because I’m telling you right now, if that happens, I am really going to be pissed off.”

  The bed bounced with his arrival. He settled back where he’d been, only this time he was covered by trousers. And she was looking at him with her mouth wide.

  “What?” he asked.

  “How...did you just move that fast?”

  “It is one of my powers.”

  Her features dropped. So did her shoulders. She even tilted her head to one side and looked at him with what looked like skepticism. When she spoke, he knew that’s what her expression meant.

  “So, now you’re going to tell me you’re a superhero? And expect me to believe it? Oh, come on.”

  “No.”

  “Good. Because I’ll stand in line for hours to buy premium-grade merchandise, but I’m not wasting a moment on bullshit.”

  “What?”

  “Wait a sec. Let me rephrase that so that even a guy from Mars can understand. You have been feeding me a line of bullshit since we met and while I’m beginning to suspect I got slipped a roofie or something, I am completely sober and alert now. That means the party is over, Your Highness. Finis. Done.”

  “What party?”

  “This one.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “That again? Okay. Straight up. Who are you really? Where am I? And what the hell is going on?”

  “I told you. I am Prince Daron. Son of King—”

  “Stop.” She put a hand up. He stopped talking. “Skip ‘the who’ part for now. Skip the Ecbatana Palace stuff, too. Just go to the ‘what’s going on’ section. Okay? Can you just answer that?”

  “I am not certain you are ready.”

  She chuckled. “Unless you’re going to tell me I’ve been beamed aboard a UFO, I’m ready. Come on. Tell me. I can take it, Big Guy.”

  “Very well. I...am a vampire.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed. It was a hearty sound that reached out to him, giving the same sense of merriment. He was grinning as she finished, brought her head back down, and looked across and up at him. She finally settled to a giggle and dabbed at her eyes with a section of the sheet.

  “Okay. Okay. Stop. You’re killing me here. Tell me something believable.”

  “You do not believe me?”

  She shook her head.

  He opened his mouth and watched her look turn to something resembling shock as his canines elongated. Grew sharp. Puncturing sharp. Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes went wide. And when she finally spoke, her voice was shaky.

  “All right. I did not see that coming.”

  “It was too soon. I knew better,” Daron remarked.

  “You’re a vampire.”

  “Yes. I know. I told you.”

  “You’re a frickin’ vampire!”

  Her voice was stronger. And it was rising.

  “You said you could take it.”

  “Yeah. I can take reality. I can’t take this. And what on earth makes it so I have to? Huh? Why me? Can you just answer that?”

  Her voice was even higher-pitched and louder. Daron pulled his fangs back in and regarded her for a long moment.

  “Well, Dracula?” she asked.

  “My name is Daron.”

  “You know...gaining points back for being cute and confused went out the window with the wash. Okay? I just found out I’m in a vampire’s lair, and I’m almost too scared to go on. What does that mean for me? That I’m one, too?”

  “Not yet,” he answered.

  “Not yet?”

  That was at screech level. Daron winced. She was shaking, too. How he longed to wrap his arms about her. Hold her close. Soothe her. But he didn’t dare.

  “What do you mean, not yet?”

  She was speaking through clenched teeth. Breathing extremely hard. Daron matched it. It was making him light-headed. He matched her for shakiness, as well. He moved the slightest fraction of an inch closer to her.

  “We have shared blood, eshq-e man. You are half-turned, but you will become a full vampire next. It is a foregone conclusion. There is no other outcome.”

  “Oh yes, there is. I get the hell out of here, and find a very good therapist to deal wit
h my newly discovered psychosis.”

  “Evelyn.”

  He put every bit of his power into her name. It came out as a throb of bass tones. She didn’t react as he expected. She was still breathing hard. And she had her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

  “I suppose you’re going to try the ‘hypnotize-with-your-eyes’ thing next?” she asked.

  It didn’t work?

  She was definitely glaring at him. Nothing about her looked remotely mesmerized. He’d have to try something else. But what? Daron licked his lips. She pulsed slightly before she immediately clamped down on the reaction. He put a hand out toward her, palm upward, almost exactly like before.

  “Take my hand, Evelyn.”

  “Oh no. No. I am not touching you.”

  “You are frightened of me?”

  “Horrified and shocked are probably closer to how I feel at the moment. And ticked. Okay?”

  He considered her for a moment. “I have something to show you.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s in another room.”

  “Start describing what it is, if you expect me to come with you.”

  “The internet.”

  “You have the internet? A vampire with a web site? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I have existed for over twenty four centuries, Evelyn. I have seen many changes take place in the world. I have owned and tried out most of them. Yes. I have an internet connection, but I rarely use it. It bores me. Just like every innovation that has come along.”

  “You’re really only taking me to see your computer? That’s it? No games? No use of your – what did you call them? Oh yes. ‘Powers.’ None of that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well. I want you to know that I’ll go with you not so much because I believe you, but I want to find out what’s really going on. And staying here is not going to make that happen. So. If you have an internet connection, lead on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “You won’t take my hand?”

  “Uh...no. But don’t read anything into that, okay? It’s not you. I wouldn’t take any vampire’s hand at the moment. Call it my Jersey sense of self-preservation.”

  “You will follow?”

  “You’re promising to show me your internet. Do I really look that stupid?”

  No. She looked fresh. Young. Beautiful. Sensually alluring. Physically stirring. And something he sensed. She appeared emotionally fragile behind a really brave front.

  The last thing she looked was stupid.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Evelyn Warner.

  ENTER.

  The screen slowly started filling in linked destinations attached to her query. Each one came in a jerking fashion as it loaded. Cripes. He had an ancient desktop, atop an office desk that had to have come from the sixties, really Spartan chairs more devoted to clean lines than comfort, and an archaic connection. And, despite being four inches away, he was sitting too close. On her left. Leaned forward as if entertained by the screen. This was taking forever. No. Evie stopped her own thoughts. She mustn’t think in terms like that. No eternal stuff. No immortality. No forever.

  Damn.

  She wished the stupid computer would load already! She had too much time to think. Remember. Envision. Recall. Too much heat radiated from where he sat, as well. Swift, unexpected twinges shot every so often through her body, too. They started mainly in her belly. No. They were actually emanating from lower down. She shifted on the hard plastic chair. She didn’t need the reminder that Prince Daron, Whatever-the-hell-he-was, had to be the best lover on the planet. Then again, he’d had two thousand plus years to practice. Evie stiffened. She had to consciously relax from the instant reaction. She wasn’t jealous. That was stupid. She’d just met him. She couldn’t possibly care what he did, where at, or with how many women.

  She really needed fresh air or something. Or a stiff shot of tequila. He shifted in his chair. It creaked. She heard it with hyper-sensitive hearing. Her senses were really acting weird. She could even hear his heart as if an echo to hers. And every breath as it matched, too.

  Wait a minute.

  He was breathing?

  “Look. This is what you need to see.”

  He pointed to the screen. Evie ran her gaze along his arm and almost sighed in appreciation. Maybe she shouldn’t have stopped him from donning his tunic shirt. She consciously forced herself to look at where he pointed. There were several lines of script above his finger. She could see and read them instantly without a bit of effort. That was odd. She’d never been a speed reader.

  “Okay. I see where it says I’m a preacher for some religious sect in the south somewhere. Looks like I’ve been picked up for trafficking in meth. Great. I’ve been awarded teacher of the year in Maine. Oh. Wow. An Evelyn Warner has been in an altercation with a co-worker that required police intervention. Geez. Who are these other people?”

  “This is the one you are looking for. The Rocking Horse link.”

  He reached across her and clicked the mouse button. His arm brushed her ribcage. Evelyn’s heart stuttered and she almost forgot to breathe. It was impossible. Amazing. Stimulating. Almost scary. She’d never had such a reaction to anyone. Ever. It was instantaneous. Unprovoked. Unexpected. And pretty awesome. He probably knew it, too. She didn’t look toward him to verify. She focused on where a black and white newspaper photo and accompanying article was loading slowly down the screen in the same line-by-line stutter fashion as before.

  She caught the irritation before she gave vent to it.

  She really shouldn’t denigrate his internet connection. Even if it was old and slower than thick molasses on a winter day, he hadn’t lied. He really did have a link to the World Wide Web. And for all she knew, she was in middle of the Sahara Desert or somewhere equally remote. She should just be grateful for small favors. And he had removed his arm from proximity to her breasts.

  “It’s the mate bond you feel.”

  Daron spoke from beside her. Evie jumped.

  “I know everything you feel, eshq-e man. I sense it.”

  “Um...let’s just focus on the job at hand here. Deal?” she replied.

  “My heart...beats as one with yours. My breath matches yours. Exactly as it should be.”

  “You know...I wasn’t going to mention that, but now that you’ve pressed the issue, I’m going to have to step into it.”

  “Step into what?”

  “I’m going to step right into the shit bucket, and it’s going to start flying.”

  “It is?”

  “You called it. You are breathing, Prince Daron. And your heart is beating, and I would say for a vampire, both are those are big no-no’s.”

  “No-no’s?”

  “Vampires are dead. Okay? Maybe the operative word is undead. I don’t know. I never studied them. There is still the word dead in there. No heartbeat. No pulse. No life. No need to breathe. And they sure as hell can’t um...make love. Damn it. I’m blushing now.”

  “I would say everything you describe is accurate...before I met you. Then, everything changed. Like magic. My heart began beating along with yours. I breathe again. And I can definitely perform.”

  She was probably crimson with the way his voice lowered on the last two words. “Will this thing ever load?” she asked.

  “I didn’t believe, either. I thought it a tale. Pure fantasy.”

  Evie focused on the screen, trying her best to ignore how his words raised goose bumps all along her arms. It was impossible. He had a fantastic range of tone, and his words were haunting. “Um. Look. The picture’s almost in...and will you look at that hole? The entire ocean side looks like it’s been blown open.”

  “A vampire can reanimate. It does happen. I am proof.”

  “Uh...Your Highness—”

  “You are my mate, Evelyn. And I am yours. It’s inescapable. I didn’t breathe for over two thousand, four-hundred years. I
had no heartbeat. No emotions. No passion. Yet, I have all that now because I have found my mate. You.”

  “Look. There’s...an article.” Her voice shook. So did her finger as she pointed.

  “Is there?” he asked without looking.

  “Yes. It says um...there was an explosion at the world-famous Rocking Horse club. Authorities have not ruled out terrorism. Eight hospitalized. One in critical condition. Three presumed dead. New Jersey businessman Jared Goldstein, stockbroker J. Reed, and beauty pageant contestant Evelyn War—”

  Her voice stopped. So did every other sound. For the longest moment, Evie just stared at the screen, slack-jawed. Disbelieving. And then the cocoon about her ruptured. She probably would have slipped from the chair if Daron hadn’t plucked her from the slick plastic and held her atop his lap. He crooned something to her in a foreign tongue. And he rocked slightly, making the chair creak in rhythm. She was still hyper-ventilating. Her heart hurt with each painful beat.

  And she could hear his body echoing every bit of it.

  “Eshq-e man?”

  “I’m presumed dead.”

  “I heard.”

  “But...dead?”

  “It happens to every living thing, Evelyn.”

  “I was not ready to die, okay? I have things to do. Places to go. People to see. Family to hug and tell them I love them. What about them, huh? Don’t you think my family deserves to know the truth here?”

  Her heart hurt. Her head hurt. And her throat wasn’t working well enough for the speech she attempted, either.

  “There is no truth you can tell them, eshq-e man.”

  “But I miss them. Already.”

  Tears were starting to stain her voice. They were clogging her throat. Stinging her eyes. His arms tightened about her. Warming. Soothing.

  “Grief is no less hard the second time it is suffered.”

  “What second time?”

  “You are my mate, Evelyn. I will not let you go. You will live forever. Your family will not. They will age and they will die.”

  “Now. Wait a minute.”

  “Didn’t you listen? I have waited centuries for you. The mate-bond is too strong. I will not let you go. I cannot.”

  “So, because you up and claim me, I just have to go along? Is that what you brought me here to show me?”