Whiteout (Aurora Sky

by Nikki Jefford

  “For now.”

  Wordlessly, she grabbed her pack off her bed, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door.

  I removed the towel from my head, preparing for the fun task of combing out my intricate mass of tangles. But first, I turned on the TV.

  A weather forecaster came on with a warning about blizzard conditions.

  “No kidding, this is Alaska,” I said to the screen.

  Great. Now I was talking to furniture.

  I walked over to the dresser, where I’d set my coat, and fished out Nelson’s phone. I finally had a means of communication, but no phone numbers. Even if I wanted to risk contacting Noel, the only way I could think to reach her was to call West High School.

  I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It read 6:48. School had long since ended. For all I knew it was Sunday. I’d lost track of the days, which was especially amusing since I had a birthday coming up.

  No. Scratch that. There were no more birthdays. No turning nineteen. I’d be forever eighteen.

  I supposed I ought to be grateful Jared hadn’t struck me down when I was a high school freshman. That would have truly sucked.

  I slipped the phone back into my coat pocket. I had just enough time to work the tangles out of my hair before Dante returned.

  There was a loud knock at the door. Tommy got to his feet and barked.

  “It’s me,” Dante called from the other side.

  I let him in and bolted the door. He carried two white paper bags and a large drink to the small round table and set them down.

  “Good boy,” Dante said, walking over to Tommy and patting his head. Dante straightened up, looked at me, and smiled. “Feel better?”

  I sighed. “I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  He turned to the table and reached into the bag. “It gets better. Big Mac,” Dante said, pulling out a wrapped burger. He set it on the tabletop. “Apple pie. Two large fries.” He pulled several out of the carton and stuffed them in his mouth. “Chicken nuggets for my appetizer,” he continued narrating, chewing, and pulling more food out.

  The way he talked, it sounded like he was the one who’d died and gone to heaven.

  “Fish sandwich for our benefactor. And finally, a Southwest salad with grilled chicken for you.” Dante set a plastic salad plate on the table.

  I wrinkled my nose. “You know I don’t eat meat.”

  “Pick it off. Tommy will eat it,” he said.

  I grabbed a carton of french fries and plopped down on the chair, eating them first while they were still semi-warm.

  Dante sat across from me, stuffing nuggets into his mouth between handfuls of fries.

  “Hungry?” I asked, raising a brow.

  “Famished,” he replied with his mouth full.

  I watched his lips and thought, Really, Aurora? This is the mouth you made out with?

  I ate my french fries one by one. Dante tried to hand me a packet of ketchup but I shook my head.

  Dante polished off his nuggets and fries and tossed the empty cartons into one of the paper bags. He unwrapped his burger next. His mouth opened wide to take his first bite.

  I took the lid off the salad and picked the pieces of chicken off with a fork, shaking them onto the clear plastic lid. When all the pieces were removed, I set the lid on the floor and called Tommy. He jumped to his feet and trotted over. As soon as his lips hit the plate, the chicken was scarfed up in seconds. Like owner, like dog.

  Dante dragged the large cup across the table, leaned over, and sucked liquid through the straw. He lifted his head and gulped. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.” I picked at my salad, not especially hungry, more like keeping busy.

  “Did you save me some hot water?” Dante asked between chews.

  “I did, but Giselle’s been in there awhile.”

  Dante chewed and swallowed. “As long as it’s not freezing cold, I’ll manage. It’s running water. That’s a step up.”

  I sniffed. “No kidding.”

  “Well, if she doesn’t hurry up, she’ll be eating a cold fish sandwich,” Dante said.

  Cold fish. Fitting. Not that Giselle would eat it either way.

  Dante finished off his burger, took several big gulps of his drink, and polished off the pie.

  I’d barely touched my salad.

  Dante stood up and stretched. “Best fast food ever.”

  That’s how I’d felt about the shower. If you ever wanted the best anything, all you had to do was go spend several weeks in the wilderness.

  Giselle emerged from the bathroom dressed, her hair combed and blown dry. When Dante offered her the McNasty, she refused. Couldn’t blame her there.

  “If you don’t want it, Tommy will eat it,” Dante remarked.

  The dog wagged his tail in agreement.

  He unwrapped the fish sandwich and set it on the ground. Tommy wolfed it up.

  After wiping his hands on his pants, Dante lifted his duffel bag off the ground and set it on Giselle’s bed. He pulled out an empty garbage sack and began filling it with clothes. “I passed a laundromat on the way to pick up food. Toss your clothes in here.”

  “Someone might recognize you,” Giselle said, sounding like a broken record.

  Dante grinned. “That’s why you’re going.”

  Sure, food was worth the risk, but not laundry. Typical Dante. Not that I was complaining. Giselle had locked Dante inside a basement, so laundry was the least she could do.

  I dug through my backpack and wadded up my jeans, T-shirts, tank tops, socks, and undergarments into one big ball, carried it over, and dumped it inside the trash bag.

  Dante chucked his clothes into the sack. Once finished, he looked me up and down. “What about the clothes you’re wearing now?”

  I wrapped my arms around my abdomen. “I don’t have anything else to wear.”

  Dante’s smile stretched across his checks. “I don’t see that being a problem.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The T-shirt and sweats stay.”

  Giselle slid her arms through the straps of her backpack and grabbed the garbage sack. Once Dante had given her directions to the laundromat, she stepped out. The truck rumbled to life soon after, the sound swiftly fading.

  Dante folded his arms and leaned back on his heels. “So… how much time do you think we have?” He glanced suggestively from the bed to me.

  “I think the shower is all yours and you can have all the time you want,” I said with a smirk. Dante was beginning to sound like his old self. It was a small comfort to see his playful side emerging.

  “Right,” Dante said, bobbing his head as though to a club beat. “Gotta freshen up first.” He scooped a comb and several plastic bottles from his duffel bag. The guy had more toiletries than I did.

  Before he could make it to the bathroom, I called out, “Oh, and Dante…”

  He turned, a hopeful look in his eyes.

  “Better make it a cold shower.” I grinned wickedly.

  Dante clasped a hand to his heart. “Oh, now that’s just plain evil.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Go wash up. I can smell you from across the room.”

  The next fifteen minutes were blissfully all to myself. I slid under the covers of my bed for the night, relishing the feel of the mattress beneath me. Once I’d snuggled into my spot, I adjusted the pillow and propped my head up and stared at the TV across the covers.

  After Dante finished in the bathroom, he emerged, thankfully dressed. I’d half expected him to strut out with his towel wrapped around his waist, chest glistening with water droplets, or worse, entirely nude.

  Dante jumped onto the opposite side of my bed and scooted his back against the headboard. “What are we watching?”

  I kept my eyes on the TV. “I’m just flipping through.”

  “Can I have the remote?”

  I rolled my eyes. Typical male. I dropped the remote in Dante’s lap, not caring what we watched.

  It didn’t take long for the T
V to put me into a trance. At some point, Dante said he was taking Tommy out one last time for the night. I nodded, eyes on the TV. The door to our room opened and closed. Two commercial breaks later, it opened again. After Tommy followed Dante in, he curled into a ball near the front door and closed his eyes.

  I felt pretty sleepy myself. The voices on the screen were lulling me into a semi-slumber. My eyes fluttered and closed. Through the chatter, I heard Dante chuckle softly and say, “Sweet dreams, Aurora.”

  The mattress dipped and rose again when Dante stood. In the distance the spray of water started from the bathroom sink. The soothing sound mingled with the voices on the TV.

  In a matter of seconds, I plummeted into a deep and all-consuming slumber reminiscent of a coma. I felt like I might never wake again, and I was okay with that. But I did wake up. And when I did, Dante was under the covers, sleeping beside me.

  10

  Date With The Devil

  {Fane}

  With the hotel’s covers flipped aside in a human-looking heap, I got what little sleep I could. I laid motionless on my back, arms folded over my abdomen, wearing nothing besides a black pair of cotton boxer briefs. Much like a corpse, I thought cynically. Except for the boxers. When and if my life ever truly ended, the family would dress me up in the nicest suit money could buy, including all the bells and whistles—24-karat gold cufflinks, Italian leather dress shoes—the whole nine (and-a-half-million) yards.

  You’d think someone in my position would be ready for such an eventuality. I’d lived more lifetimes than humanly possible. But scientific and human advancements never failed to enthrall me. If I’d died of the plague back in Venice, I would have missed out on so many wonders. The locomotive. Automobiles. Man’s first flight. The moon landing. Even the smaller things didn’t seem so small. The telephone. Light bulbs. Electricity!

  Heating, on the other hand, didn’t impress me as much. I found heat harder to deal with than cold, which didn’t bother me at all. The hotel’s thermostat was set at a balmy seventy-one degrees. Joss and I never kept ours above sixty-five. Even the boxer briefs were unnecessary with the temperature inside the suite.

  I got what rest I could before rising from the queen bed. I unfolded my jeans off the dresser and pulled them up my legs on my way over to the large windows overlooking downtown Anchorage. It had taken little convincing on Alfonso’s part to make use of the second bedroom included in his suite. Elmendorf Air Force Base was located on the edge of downtown, and I wanted to be as close as possible, especially today. Lieutenant Vince Pearlman was personally escorting us on base to meet with Agent Melcher.

  In four hours, I’d get my first face-to-face with the devil himself.

  This day had been a long time coming and I could barely wait. If the sly bastard wasn’t so difficult to get to, I would have sought out an audience sooner.

  If Joss had been mistreated in any way, the next call I placed wouldn’t be to the senator, but an assassin. I might place that call regardless, but first we needed to free Joss and find out everything there was to know about Aurora’s whereabouts.

  If Jared showed up at today’s meeting, all bets were off.

  Noel said the only message she’d received had been through a third party. The reason Aurora was on the run was because Jared had gotten away. I folded my arms tight across my bare chest, glaring out the darkened window. Aurora should have brought me to the hostage exchange. I ought to have counted myself lucky Jared hadn’t managed to kill her in the ordeal. The swap could have gone a lot worse. Then again, if I’d been there, Jared would have never walked free.

  The streets were motionless below. It was too early for traffic. We were in one of the tallest buildings downtown. I should have felt like a king in his castle. Instead, I felt more like Rapunzel trapped in her tower, the world out of reach.

  Even after all these centuries, I’d never really fit into the high life. It felt too restrained—the company stiff. I had always been more at ease as a wanderer, a plebeian… a low life. My lips formed a wry smile.

  Aurora hadn’t fallen for Francesco, the rich Italian, after all. She’d gone for Fane, the delinquent.

  Just because I was a rebel didn’t mean I couldn’t provide her with the good life. I wanted to give her everything. Adventure, wonder, luxury…

  My undying love.

  Hopefully I’d get the chance.

  By the time Alfonso roused himself from bed, two hours later, I’d made myself at home in the suite’s living room. I’d brought along a small portable cooler when I packed the day before, and I lounged shirtless on a couch as I drank blood from a hotel glass. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been a microwave to heat the blood once I poured it from the bag. Instead, I let it sit near the heater for half an hour to bring it to room temperature.

  Alfonso strutted across the room in a short silk robe, hair already styled.

  “Buongiorno,” he called out cheerfully.

  “Buongiorno,” I echoed, lifting the glass to my lips for another sip.

  “Cousin, you should hire yourself a personal donor. Don’t tell me there aren’t dozens of beautiful young women who would happily extend their necks for the right price?”

  I lowered the glass and smirked. “What makes you think I have to pay for that sort of thing?”

  Cocky son of a bitch. Two could play at that game. I might not be considered drop-dead gorgeous by today’s standards, but I’d experienced plenty of action in my time—including the twenty-first century.

  Alfonso’s smile stretched. “It is the famous Donado family charm, si?”

  “Money doesn’t buy everything,” I responded, lifting the glass for another thick sip of blood. I felt like Popeye the Sailor Man, juicing up on spinach before taking on Bluto the Brute.

  “Fortunately, it buys almost everything,” Alfonso was quick to say. “Such as US senators.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

  I gave an amused guffaw. No disputing that one. I was glad not to.

  Meanwhile, cousin Raffaele had done some digging into Agent Melcher.

  Melcher, first name Gabriel, came from the House of Meltechener, a family so powerful they made the Donados almost look like commoners in comparison. Gabriel came from royal and extremely religious blood. Numerous members of his family had sat on the English throne. Not only that, the man was accustomed to military support. And he was several hundred years older than I.

  Ancient evil.

  Nothing I couldn’t handle.

  His clan had ordered suspected “sinners” to be burned at the stake in his day. Guess he was still carrying on the family tradition of taking down those he viewed as the damned—himself excluded, naturally. Isn’t that how it always worked with bigots?

  I had half a mind to don my mesh shirt and spiked choker when I went in to see his Royal Awfulness. I would love nothing more than to see his look of horror at being forced to play nice with the miscreant Italian vampire. Or I could put on the suit and play the game. Show myself as the upstanding, responsible representative of the undead upper class. Ultimately, the impression I made with the senator’s appointed lieutenant was more important. I wasn’t aiming for a cockfight; I was aiming for control—a foot in the door.

  I emptied my glass and set it on a side table. “Let us hope money is enough to buy more than a senator,” I said. “I am ready to get on base and get on with this.”

  “Yes, yes, but first I must eat,” Alfonso said.

  As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

  Alfonso’s head lifted with his lips. “Ah, my breakfast has come.”

  While Alfonso played pick-and-choose off silver platters arranged with fruits, meats, and pastries, I went to my room and suited up. Alfonso leaned on the doorframe, sipping from a porcelain coffee cup as I buttoned my jacket.

  “I have a pink tie that looks striking with that particular piece,” my cousin said, cradling the cup’s matching saucer.

  “I don’t wear pink, and I don’t wear ties,”
I said, smoothing out the jacket’s sleeves.

  Alfonso tossed the coffee back and set the cup and saucer on the dresser, looking me over. “At least try some of my cologne,” he said. “It works magic on everyone around you.”

  “You do realize we’re going onto an air force base, don’t you?” I asked, trying not to smile too much.

  “All the more reason to make an impression,” Alfonso said.

  I joined my cousin in front of the dresser and peered at my reflection in the mirror mounted above the surface. Funny how a suit made a man look like a million bucks.

  I turned to Alfonso and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Mio cugino,” I said fondly, teeth showing as I grinned. “We will make an impression. No doubt about it.”

  “Si,” Alfonso agreed. “I will get changed.” He placed his hand on top of mine and gave it a squeeze before turning on his heel and heading from my room to his.

  While Alfonso got dressed, I rinsed my glass and left it by the sink, then I brushed my teeth. Speaking of impressions, it probably wouldn’t go over so well to walk into a secret vampire hunting agency with bloodstained teeth. I smirked as I worked the paste into a foamy lather.

  Alfonso used every last second leading to departure to groom himself. I wasn’t the only one opting out of a tie; Alfonso skipped the neck choker, though he wore a pink dress shirt beneath a navy blazer.

  Senator Davis had arranged for Lieutenant Vince Pearlman to meet us at the gate at nine o’clock.

  The senator was wise not to keep me waiting all morning for the meeting.

  “Ready to storm the castle, cuz?” I called into Alfonso’s room a little before eight thirty.

  Alfonso walked out with the same confident strides as a runway model. A length of blue, gold, and white fabric draped over his arm. It looked like a tapestry. Alfonso shook it out and slipped first one arm, then his second inside the cloth. No, not a tapestry—a long, gaudy coat.

  “Fortuna i forti aiuta, e i timidi rifiuta,” Alfonso responded in Italian, which translated to “Fortune favors the bold.”

  The bold and the beautiful apparently. We’d look quite the pair on the Anchorage base. Whatever it took to bring Joss home and find Aurora.