by Laura Kaye
“You lived in my house, and I fed your ass for four years. If it weren’t for me, you would’ve been out on the street. It’s time I was compensated.”
“It’s not about that at all, and you know it.” She cupped her hand around her chin and the receiver. “I’m not giving you any more money to pay off your gambling debts.”
“I’m warning you, bitch, if I don’t see some green within the next twenty-four hours, I’m coming to find you.”
With a click, the line went dead.
Emily hung up the phone. Suddenly chilled, she rubbed her upper arms vigorously for a couple of seconds, then she reached in the pocket of her scrub top. She pulled out a hair clip, brushed her fingers through her hair, and pinned her curls into a ponytail. If only she could pull the rest of her life together so easily.
It was blackmail—pure and simple.
She knew better than to give in. Jeff would never stop if she gave him money. But God, it would be so easy if she had a way to give him enough so he’d disappear.
“Hey, girl.” Shawna came up beside her and plopped down in one of the black task chairs. “Are you okay? You look pale. Was Jeff threatening you again?”
“Really?” Emily placed her palms on her cheeks. “I feel okay.” She managed to get the words out in a steady voice that even surprised her to hear. “It’s probably just that time of the month. You know how it gets. I’m a little anemic.” She cringed at the bald-faced lie that had come out of her mouth. Well, not all of it was a lie. She was a little low on red blood cells. “I’ll go get some juice and I’ll be fine.”
Emily left her chair for the break room with Shawna following on her heels. She waved her ID badge over the door’s security sensor, and the lock gave a soft click. Pushing open the door, she fanned her hand in front of her nose. The enclosed small space of their employee refuge reeked of old tuna sandwiches and overheated Lean Cuisines. She skirted between the tired and tattered navy blue couch and the round white dinette table with its vented plastic chairs, making her way to the refrigerator.
“He was just going on as usual about money. What’s new?” Emily grabbed an individual Minute Maid off the fridge shelf and twisted the cap off.
“You know what you need?”
Emily lifted her eyebrows, giving her a nonverbal “what’s that?” look, while taking a long swallow of the cold juice.
“You need some fun in your life—a little excitement. A tall, dark, and handsome man to whisk you away to his mansion and take your mind off your troubles. You need a man who knows how to treat a woman right.”
Emily choked. Orange juice sprayed from her lips and all over the front of her top.
“Oh, my God! Are you all right?” Shawna snatched some paper towels from beside the sink and handed them to her. “I didn’t think my idea sounded that crazy.”
“It is crazy,” Emily said between coughs. “Besides, how many tall, dark, and handsome men with mansions have you seen around here?” She hated lying to her best friend. Though, technically, it wasn’t a lie. He was a vampire, not a man. Either way, she could never tell Shawna what had happened to her or what she’d learned.
“Good point.” Shawna laughed. “I’d have already tried to snag one for myself.”
“Believe me, the last thing I need is a man to whisk me off my feet and take control of my life.” Emily tossed the rest of her OJ in the trash and headed back to work.
…
Pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, Kenric made his way down the stairs from his private level, a dagger strapped to each thigh.
The day had passed like an eternity. With Marguerite knowing about Emily and thus threatening her, he needed to find Markus as soon as possible. Then he needed to get Emily into safekeeping.
And no place would be safer than here—with him.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted into the hallway as he made his way toward the kitchen.
Kenric opened the door and flinched. He slammed his eyes shut from the sudden burst of harsh fluorescents. Opening his eyes a crack, he spotted Michael at the island working on his next experimental concoction.
“Is all this really necessary?” he growled before pulling out a pair of dark shades.
“If I plan on being able to see while I cook, it is.” Michael glanced up briefly from his project. “Your eyes will adjust.”
Kenric leaned over the island, resting his weight on one large hand. “Some days, I question why I ever saved your sarcastic ass.”
“Because of my winning personality, and because I’m a damn good cook.” Michael lifted his head and grinned.
Michael would have a home here for the rest of his life, and he knew it. He’d become like the son Kenric would never have. It was Marguerite who had coldly informed him, after he’d been turned, that he had nothing left to offer any human woman. A fact that she’d gloated over again just a couple of nights ago. Sadly, he’d seen no births in all his years to contradict her statement.
“A damn good cook—you wish.” Kenric pushed back from the island.
“You just resent the fact that my pot roast makes you salivate even though you haven’t needed to eat in centuries.”
“You have a point there.” Kenric smiled. “That it does.” He turned on his heels and headed toward the somber group at the table.
Guerin sat at one end with Arran, Elle in the middle, while Logan propped himself at the opposite end. Kenric grabbed the closest chair and eased into the seat across from Arran.
“I’ve some things for you to look at,” Elle said and handed him several sheets of paper. “I got a few hits on the subject, but the one that grabbed my attention the most, I placed on top.” She tapped the sheet. “I think you’ll find it interesting.”
In bold, the title read, Legend of the Vampire, Goran Madunic. The article said that Goran was one of the earliest recorded vampires. He’d been a brutal man, bloodthirsty. The legend went on to say that he’d killed hundreds of men and women in Croatia during his rampages. He had had an army of fellow creatures—loyal servants who hunted and fought with him. At the time of Madunic’s demise, the myth stated that according to his wishes, his minions were to remove the heart from his headless body and drain the organ of its contents, sealing the blood inside a glass vessel. His army supposedly hid this essence, awaiting the next master vampire. The successor would then drink from the relic, merging the former leader’s power and consciousness with his own. Goran had believed that his power was so great that he could live on through the next master who consumed his blood.
Kenric eased back in his chair and dragged a weary palm across his face. “If this is what she’s unearthed…,” He glanced around the table, meeting his fellow warrior’s grim faces. “We’ve got a big problem on our hands.”
“Elle showed me what she printed out,” Guerin said before lifting his mug for a gulp. “You think that vessel would still be around after all Croatia has been through?”
“It fits the clues Marguerite dropped. The time period, and the new surge in her power.” Kenric leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And if we’re right, and she’s drinking this shit…” He shook his head. “The ancient vampire DNA will be concentrated—off the charts, and Goran was correct about one thing: his essence will affect the vampire who absorbs him. His consciousness is long gone, but the potent genetic material left behind will prey on her mind.”
“How do you propose we find out what she has?”
He cocked his head in Guerin’s direction. “I ask her. She’ll be back, to screw with my mind, and if I’m right, Marguerite won’t be able to resist admitting it was Madunic’s blood she’s found.” Kenric looked over to Arran and Elle. “Even if we stop Marguerite, we have to find that vessel. It’s too much of a threat to allow it to fall into the hands of a power-hungry vampire like her.” He swung his gaze back to Guerin. “It must be destroyed.”
Kenric dragged his hands through his hair, his mind drifting back to the early y
ears of his turning and the implications if the insane female had found that vessel.
During the three years he’d spent with Marguerite, she had already eradicated the last drop of empathy she may have once had for the human race—and that was three centuries ago. Now… Now God only knew what lurked in the dark void where her soul used to reside. Yes, he’d wondered more than once, while watching her torture then drain the life from her victims, if there had ever been a time when Marguerite Devonshire had cared about someone other than herself. For most, to have lost their grip and fallen so far over the edge meant at some point they had possessed something to hold onto. Some small nugget of sanity. But the look of pleasure she wore when inflicting pain made him question if her ability to feel compassion had ever existed. If it had, she’d made sure to excise it from her heart. And if she was consuming the blood of Goran…
Michael passed behind them, opening the interior shutters for the night, when the door to the kitchen swung wide.
The entire table jumped to their feet, transfixed on the figure in the doorway.
“Son of a bitch!” Arran voiced the exact words that had crossed Kenric’s mind.
“Miss me?” Markus stood before them in the kitchen, his clothes dirty and torn, his lip bloodied, but very much…alive.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Arran rounded the table.
“I got back as fast as I could. I couldn’t call you, man.” He pulled out what was left of his cell and held it up to Arran. “One of the filthy bloodsuckers crushed it when it fell out of my pocket. That, and I’ve been holed up in a damn warehouse for I don’t know how many hours, waiting for the sun to go down. No phones.”
Markus trudged over to the table and slumped into a chair, his straight black hair falling across his face. After sweeping it back, he scrubbed an open palm over his shadow of a beard.
“Shit. What happened?” Kenric shook his head, relief spreading through his limbs. The SOB was alive.
Arran moved back to the other side of the table as the rest of the team took their seats, everyone eager to hear what had happened.
“After I finished off the motherfucker who broke my phone, I went after another one I’d seen running toward The Docks.” Markus tilted back in his chair. “Once I got down there, I caught sight of him slipping behind one of the warehouses. He saw me and took off. You know how that area is around the shipyards—it’s like a fucking maze. Bloodsucker knew the place way too well. He maneuvered it like it was his playground.”
He turned his gaze in Kenric’s direction, his gray eyes shadowed with intensity. “There had to be a lair somewhere nearby. I wasn’t going to lose him.” His focus returned to the rest of his team.
“I followed him into one of the warehouses. Shipping containers filled the place from one end to the other, stacked almost to the damn ceiling. After, I don’t know…” He shrugged, “…twenty minutes or so, I spotted him again. I ran after him before he leaped off one of the crates to a window and got out.” He slammed the table with his fist.
“Damn. I was so fucking pissed. I jumped up onto a section of crates to follow him. The next thing I knew, I was under a mountain of the damn things and it was dawn.”
“Shit. No wonder we couldn’t find you,” Arran muttered.
“The only thing I could do was wait out the sun in one of those fucking crates.”
“Glad you’re alive, and that you made it back,” Kenric said. Then with a nod, “Now, go get cleaned up. You reek.” The team chuckled, and Markus displayed a rare grin. The relief around the table was palpable.
Kenric rose, following Arran and Markus from the kitchen.
“Arran,” he called. Both warriors paused in the hallway and reeled about. “I’m going to need you at Elizabeth Bay Memorial tonight in case there’s trouble.”
“What’s going down?”
“I’ll be meeting the woman you both heard about yesterday to take care of the lab evidence I left behind.”
Arran nodded. “You got it.”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to everyone yet, but I have reason to believe the woman, Emily, may be in danger.”
“What do you mean?” Markus stepped in closer. “What makes you think she’s in danger?”
“Marguerite made a threat against her life. Last night, I announced placing Emily under the Enclave’s protection. Under my protection. Marguerite will not touch her.” Kenric hit both men with a glare. “Is that clear?”
“Understood,” Arran said, nodding his head in affirmation along with Markus. “We have your back.”
Kenric whipped around and headed out for a drive to clear his head before his meeting with Emily.
“By the way…” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at the two silent warriors behind him. “I’ll discuss it with the rest of the team later, but I’ll be bringing her back to the compound. For her safety.”
“Of course,” both replied in unison.
Chapter Thirteen
Emily jumped at the sudden tap on her shoulder, breaking her hypnotic gaze on the computer screen.
“Have you heard anything I’ve said?”
“What?” Emily reeled around in her task chair, faced Shawna, and gave her tired eyes a rub with both hands. “No. I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted.” In reality, she grew crazier with each passing minute, waiting for Kenric’s call.
“It’s okay. I know that sorry ex of yours keeps you on edge.” Shawna eased into the chair beside her. “Hey, and what about your John Doe from the other night disappearing like that? That was so weird. Security didn’t have a trace of him at any of the exits on video. It was like he just poofed out of here.” She dramatized the Houdini action with her hands.
Absently rubbing her midsection, Emily whirled back around to the computer. This was so much harder than she’d thought. Her head pounded, and her stomach ached. If he would just call… The firm reassurance of his voice would help steady her nerves.
“Oh, about what I was saying earlier,” Shawna went on, oblivious to Emily’s abdominal distress. “It’s twelve thirty, and I need to start those antibiotics on bed A. I’ve already tried twice to get a line in him. Would you mind seeing if you can start one for me?”
Pushing back from the computer station, Emily plastered a smile on her face before accepting the IV supplies from her friend’s hand. “Sure. I need to occupy my mind with something else.”
They’d almost made it to bed A when Emily’s phone buzzed against her thigh. With her heart a pounding lump in her throat, she pulled her cell free. The caller ID displayed Private.
It had to be him.
“Shawna, I’m sorry, but I have to take this call.” Emily glanced left, then right, searching for a replacement who could help Shawna out. “Would you mind getting Sylvia? She’s right over there.” Emily pointed to the dark-haired nurse in pink scrubs. “She’s new, but I’ve heard she’s excellent with IVs.” She gave Shawna her best reassuring smile. “I just have to take this call. Please cover for me for a few minutes. I owe you one.” Before Shawna could reply, she tumbled the supplies back into her hands, spun on her heels, and headed away from the ER, down the back corridor.
A quick glance up and down the hall assured her she was alone. Good, she had a few seconds of privacy.
She hit the talk button.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“Hi. It’s me. Are you ready?”
She bit back a groan. Why did his voice have to be so damn sexy? “Um… Yeah.” She switched hands, wiping the dampness from her other palm onto her pants leg. “I’ve got someone covering, but not for long. What do you need me to do?” Emily’s footsteps echoed off the walls in the empty hallway, the hollow sound chipping away at her already frayed nerves.
“I need you by the lab,” he instructed.
She slowed to a stop and closed her eyes, steadying herself for what was to come.
“Be sure you’re alone,” Kenric added. “Let me know when you’re there
, and I’ll be in.”
“How will you know where I am—where the lab is?” She could hear the nervous edge in her own voice no matter how hard she tried to control her jitters. “Have you somehow placed a GPS on my rear?” Emily opened her eyes and started moving again. She wasn’t far from where they were to meet.
“Think of it as vampire GPS.”
“Oh. I take it that’s another lesson in your abilities you haven’t filled me in on yet?” She rounded the corner and stopped a few feet from the laboratory’s doorway. “Okay, I’m here,” she whispered and leaned her hip against the cool surface of the wall.
“Good.”
A few seconds passed without another sound. “Kenric…?” Had he hung up? A hand landed on her shoulder.
“I’m right here.”
Emily fumbled the phone, but managed to catch it before it fell. She whipped around and shoved at Kenric’s arm. “Good Lord. Don’t do that.” She gave her shoulders a shake and stuffed her cell in her pocket. “Damn, it’s unsettling.”
“Sorry I startled you.” Kenric brushed his palm down her arm, creating a rippling warmth in its wake.
Reflex begged her to lean in and absorb the sensation, but this wasn’t the time or the place. As if there could ever be such a thing as the right moment with a vampire. She stepped back, placing a little more distance between them.
“You okay?” He curled his fingers away, and his gaze shifted to the hospital corridor, surveying for any unexpected company. “Any fallout from my disappearance?”
“I’m fine, and no fallout. Apparently, no one’s connected me with your vanishing act.” She followed his lead and watched the hallway. “But you certainly are the talk of the nurses’ station with how you disappeared without a blip on the security cameras.” She poked him in the arm with her finger. “You gonna tell me how you located me like that?”
He dropped his gaze back to hers and rubbed his arm. “Hey, watch it with that finger, Wildflower. You could hurt someone.”
She snorted. “Come on. How did you zero in on me?”
