Misty

by M. Garnet

  Rad’s smile did get larger. He respected a fighter and a female warrior.

  “So you are wondering if there is an additional catch?” Vasa knew him very well. A long time ago they had been lovers. He nodded and she smiled also. “Because of her importance, and until we find out how important that is, she must be treated carefully. You can’t force yourself on her. Since you can’t influence her, you can’t have sex, unless she agrees to it. You can’t draw her blood unless she agrees. You read mortals well, so maybe being with her will help give us a lead. Report back on anything that tells us who she is. We have done some research and found she was an orphan. She will be a handful, but perhaps your life has been a little dull lately. Take a plane to America and look after our little girl. Try to play nice.” She dropped her smile and he knew the audience was over.

  He nodded to all, turned, and left the conference room. The servant had the door to the elevator open for him. He did not hesitate as he reached the lobby, but quickly left the building to exit into the heat of a summer day in Rome. He had the ability to appear in daylight, but he was not really fond of the hot sun at midday. He put on dark glasses, got into his limo and gave his driver instructions to take him to the airport.

  Chapter Two

  Misty came out of the store and because she was on the second floor of the mall, she started towards the escalator. She was struck with a flashback. Standing close to the top of the escalators, leaning against the rail that looked down on the first floor, was a tall dark guy. He was in the exact same position as the man who had accosted her several weeks earlier. It had been the strangest episode altogether.

  The man had approached her, seemed to know her, but she was positive she did not know him. He was tall and good looking, not the type of man she would forget. He had his hips parked against the railing near the escalators, waiting. When she wandered down the wide marble walkway between open stores and saw him, she had actually smiled. But she was surprised when he had walked up just as she reached the top of the moving stairs. He gave her a warm smile in return and said her name. He took her elbow and said she wanted to donate blood. She had pulled away immediately, but he was unusually strong and as she stepped back he hung onto her arm. He seemed surprised that she was resisting. People were stopping behind her and some were moving around as other people were moving up or down the escalators.

  She had looked around, shouted loudly, which was what self-defense classes taught her to do. She yelled help and told him to let go in that same loud voice. She only had one package, so she dropped it and with her free hand she reached into her large purse. The mace was a round can in the bottom and easy to find. An older man had stepped up to ask what was the problem and as the man holding her looked away from her, she got the mace out to spray him in the face. He let out a yell, letting go, so she pushed him backward. He fell onto the escalator, rolling downward, taking others with him who started screaming and hitting him. In the distance she saw a mall cop coming, so she just turned around, picked up her package and took off. She pushed through the people who were gathering to see what was so entertaining.

  Today she slowed down because of the flashback and because this guy was also looking at her. This guy had a different look about him. Strange—she had thought at first he had the appearance of the previous man who had accosted her. Very tall, well over six-three or six-four, and since she was five-nine, she was usually interested in tall guys. But he had a look that, although handsome, shouted danger. He had long dark hair and a dark complexion, as if he was Greek or Italian. He had his arms crossed, which pushed out the muscles under the dark tee shirt. He had on dark jeans that fit tight and she was afraid to see any more. Drug lord or gun dealer—at least, he had that look. So she just did a short turn and started down the stairs that were to the left of the moving escalators.

  As she got down a couple of steps she glanced back and was actually disappointed that he was still standing, not looking over at her but looking down the corridor of shops in which she had first walked. Oh well, it was time she got over the scare of one strange guy. Also, it wouldn’t hurt to get over not being attracted to every man who was in the mall. She went out through the busy exit and a couple of guys held the door for her and gave her the once over. Okay, she felt better. Maybe she should start doing something about herself before she went out in public.

  She had not cut her hair in a long time. It was easier to just let it stay long and pull it back as she worked. She was taller than average, and because she worked at home she kept her wardrobe simple, tank tops and jeans or shorts, depending on the season. When the weather was cooler she added sweatshirts or sweaters. She stayed in sandals or shoes she could slip on easily because she often would slide off one or both shoes as she worked on the computer or at the drafting board. Her hair was brown, but in the sun it had red highlights and she thought sometime, when she had some extra money, she might have a hairdresser add some more red to it. She had brown eyes but there were some green flecks in them, not enough to be really called hazel, but there had been a couple of guys who claimed to be fascinated by them. Of course, they also wanted in her bed and were probably just saying anything. She stayed inside on her computers too much to get any tan so she just had a soft pale pink skin that she dusted with makeup when she was in the mood. But at least it was clean and clear.

  In her bag of purchases, she had a new tray of watercolors and a couple of tubes of her favorite colors that she always used too much, along with some pens that she liked to use for drawing. She went out to her slightly used Dodge truck. Slightly used was the term the salesman had extolled. Really beat up and hardly able to keep on the road was a better description. She put her packages on the seat beside her, with fingers crossed she put the key in and turned it to hear the grinding noise but no engine noise.

  She said a short prayer and tried again. Nothing but grinding. This time she tried a very pertinent curse. She pumped the gas and tried again. Loud grinding. She put her head down on the steering wheel. She heard the car next to her start up and the large engine in the vehicle roared. She rose up and looked over at some type of expensive sports car. The man who had been at the railing on the second floor of the floor was adjusting his seat belt.

  Of course! He looked the type to have some expensive type of car that would start up with the touch of a button. Shit. She crossed her fingers and tried one more time. The old engine finally choked and started up. It was just as noisy as the engine of the sports car, just not as sweet sounding. She sat up, looked over and watched as the sports car pulled out and went down the aisle. This allowed her more room to back out herself and then she was heading for home.

  For the next few days she concentrated on work, staying at her computer and drawings. She was living on delivery food and whatever was left over in the refrigerator. Her home was half of a duplex. It was divided down the center and was a type of ranch style common from the fifties. Her friends Paul and Terrie, who planned on getting married someday, owned the house and rented out to her. She loved it because they let her do whatever she wanted to it, which was pretty much nothing.

  She didn’t have a lot of furniture because her life was the one room with the computer set up and drawing space, with one really comfortable chair. This was where she spent most of her time, doing the work she enjoyed. She had a great bed that she could not afford, but she had splurged after getting paid for a project in cash. She did not want to know why they preferred cash, she just used it to get the best price available on a king size bed with all the bedding and pillows. She had found that she could stretch out and sleep in this bed. She had put up black out curtains so she could sleep any time, depending on her crazy schedule. She had stools in the kitchen so she felt she did not need a table. The few friends she had, she always met at a bar where you could get a bite to eat. The simple life. Actually she got more calls on her cell from salesmen than she did from friends. So far this had not worried her. She had a TV by the computer and one by the
bed. Good enough.

  Speaking of cell phone calls, her Blackberry rang. She didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyways. A professional woman’s voice identified as the local blood bank asking if she could set up an appointment to help donate again.

  “Look, I just came in with a friend. It was a onetime thing. Please take my name off your list.”

  Misty let out a long breath as the woman explained how all the blood banks where very short and how important it was for everyone to do their duty and help in these times, etc., etc. Finally, Misty broke in. “Look, I don’t like needles, I had to get drunk afterwards and it is not going to happen again. Take my name off your list and don’t call me again or I will report you to the state and the local medical association. Now goodbye.”

  Misty could not believe she had let a group of guys talk her into giving blood. They had all got together on their usual chat room and were talking about some guys who were in Iraq. The next thing she knew she had met a couple of them at an Internet café and they went to a local blood bank. It hadn’t been what she had expected. Actually it was just a big storefront with the glass windows painted with signs and pasted with paper posters. The desks inside were old and scratched. The chairs were behind curtains that did not go all the way to the floor, but everything was clean, thank goodness. She would have left if she hadn’t been with the group.

  The nurses were nice and they insisted that everyone stay to eat the cheap snack bars and drink the juice before they left. The entire bunch of online friends went to the nearest bar and got drunk. She had trouble with one of the guys who wanted to go home with her, but she was able to take a taxi. She left him at the curb in front of the bar. So never again—someone else would have to give blood.

  After the phone call, her cell was mostly quiet. For the next few days she got a lot of work done. She researched on the computer, went to the drafting table and added color to drawings that she printed out. She found that she could control the colors better using this system. She used the watercolors to blend in what she wanted and then scanned the painted works back into the computer. She sent a lot of the projects off to the clients and her agent. Thank goodness her agent was used to working on line and did not want to have long in-your-face conversations.

  It was getting late, after 11pm, but she was hungry so she looked in the empty kitchen cabinets and refrigerator. She had finally eaten her way through what little she kept in. She knew it was too late for delivery. After picking up her keys and stuffing her wallet in her pocket of her jeans, she took her hair down and ran a brush through it. She went out to walk to the corner gas slash food pick up store that was open all night.

  She picked up a few items, paid for them, and took the two plastic bags by the loop handles. She was just around the corner from her home when a large man came out of the shadows. He stepped in the middle of the sidewalk. Shit—no mace, no cell phone. She was going to be in tomorrow’s news. He was only about five or six feet away from her and she had no doubt that he was there to rob her or worse.

  She stopped, not about to get any closer. She looked both ways but did not see any help. The houses nearby all had their lights out. Everyone was either gone or they were in bed. Suddenly he was holding her. How had he moved that fast? She let out a yell and started kicking. He lifted her up and was looking directly into her eyes. He was unbelievably strong as she twisted and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Look at me, you don’t want to yell, you don’t want to escape.” He kept saying over and over in a deep voice.

  “Like hell I don’t.” She screamed and continued to yell and kick. He seemed surprised and almost lost his hold on her. Over her screams she heard another voice—a strong, low, deep voice that still could be heard in the night air.

  “I think the lady would like to be set free,” the deep velvet voice said. The man holding her seemed to freeze. She stopped screaming. If someone was coming to her rescue, she wanted to be able to hear him.

  The man holding her said, “I found her first.”

  Suddenly there was a swirl. The man holding her was swung around. She flew from his grasp and slid into the neatly trimmed grass of someone’s front yard. She rolled over and sat up in time to see what was happening. She did not understand it. It was a fight of some kind—there were two men, but they were moving too fast, and sometimes they were in the air, not touching the ground. It was over and one of the men was down on the ground. The other one pulled out a knife and plunged it into the chest of the downed man.

  She sat there, nausea building up in the back of her throat as she watched someone being brutally killed in cold blood. But it got worse. The man drew out his knife and the body on the ground turned to dust, the clothes flattened out to lie against the ground and the breeze stirred the dust.

  The winner stood and in the dark night he looked very big. He glanced around and found her two bags. He picked them up and started to come over to her. In panic she started to scramble backwards in an awkward crab crawl, keeping her eyes on his dark silhouette but trying her best to keep a distance between them.

  He stopped and looked at her for a long moment. He laid her two bags on the ground and walked back to the dust and cloths. He gathered up the clothes, shoes and all that remained, and walked away. She sat there on the damp earth clinging to the clumps of grass she had in her hands. She could feel her whole body shaking and knew it was adrenalin racing through her entire system. She got up slowly, not sure her legs would hold her.

  She looked around but did not see anyone. No one was looking out any window, no one was walking down the street, no mysterious man lurked in the shadows. She reached down and picked up her bags. She couldn’t help herself, she walked over to the pile of dust in the dirt and grass between the sidewalk and the curb. It was still there. Some of it was swirling, picked up by the soft breeze. She knew by morning there would be nothing, as the dust was so fine that any passing car would also spread it into the road and away from the site.

  * * * *

  Strange, he had been irritated by the request that he couldn’t turn down. The gold amulet hanging against his chest had put him into a position of owing a tithe to the Council. Normally he would have expected to have been sent into a war zone, or after someone of danger. He had faced many in the past and had scars to prove it. He did not fear such assignments, but now had the power to refuse or accept what he wished, taking only what kept him interested.

  Being a guard over a female wasn’t something that would have normally fallen to one of his status. He wouldn’t have found any interest it the duty. But it was necessary, due to his obligation, and he thought it would be only be for a short time. He decided a few days, or better yet, nights, and he could go back to the risks, fights, and items in life that he put check marks in front of, to keep him going forward. His life had been too long and it now took a lot to keep his interest. But—surprise, a mortal female—hmmm, perhaps there was some interest.

  Finding a mortal or a Vampire with unusual traits was something that one heard about in rumors. They were talked about in gatherings and he often thought they were probably exaggerated, greatly out of proportion. He had found the topic of not much interest. He knew that there was a mortal male who was reputed to have had a rare blood serum about two hundred years ago. The poor man had been held a prisoner for a few years and drained almost to death by various parties, testing and tasting. He had finally succumbed to some type of disease, due to his weakened body. But times had changed. Like the mortals, those of his breed had learned a lot, and if a mortal were to be found with unusual blood they would be kept alive in a most comfortable mode and not be abused. At least he hoped that would be the plan.

  So he watched her from a distance, until he tried their first meeting in a casual way. She was wary and smart. The Council had forgotten to mention that she was up there in the intelligent range. Or maybe they just weren’t aware of how bright this female was and what she was capable of doing. He also becam
e aware of Vamps around. Shit, this was going to become a fucking war zone. He wondered if Chasim had knowledge of this. This area of the country, Louisiana, had a lot of night dwellers and he felt that some rumor of rare blood was already being whispered from ear to ear.

  He let her see him in the mall, although he had been watching her for several days. He leaned against the railing when she went into the art store, knowing that she would come back out towards him. She approached and he smelled her. Damn, sweet ripe rich calling, whatever was in her system. He knew she reacted to the previous entanglement, and that she was worried. She showed her smarts and she did not panic, just swerved and headed for the stairs instead of the escalators. He did not move until she got out of sight. He hurried down the moving steps and out the door to his car that he had parked next to her truck.

  It was only two nights before he had to make his first kill. Fortunately, he was able to convince four others to move to another area and listen to the decree of the Council. Okay, the Council was right, it was a good idea to send someone as strong as an enforcer to handle this protection.

  She went out at night for a walk. Fuck. She had seemed to be so smart, had stayed within her home doing whatever it was she did there. But one night, she just goes out for a walk to a local store and buys some items. Then she starts to walk back. Sure, even if a Vamp was not in the area, she was asking for a local druggy who needed funds for his next buy to do a hit on her. He’d stayed dark and just a shadow, but the Vamp didn’t. The Vamp tried to influence her but that had no effect. She was one strong mind with a vault door and no code. He was a lot stronger than this local midnight locked soul, and had tried and met a cement wall. Vasa was right, she couldn’t be influenced.