Blood Rising

by Amber Anthony

  Matt grimaced at his humor. “A call would be nice, Rick. Cell phones, we have them in the 21st century.”

  Rick winced. “And are most likely bugged, so I decided a visit was in order. Didn’t mean to catch you in flagrante, dear boy.”

  “Like hell, you didn’t.”

  Rick shrugged. “You know me too well.”

  “If you’ll excuse us for a moment,” Cat huffed. “Matt and I aren’t impervious to cold. We need to get dressed.”

  Rick bowed out of her way. “Of course.”

  Georgia headed down the stairs, her gaze assessing Cat as the young woman flattened herself against the wall to avoid brushing shoulders. Georgia headed for Rick’s side.

  “I can see the plaid skirt,” Georgia said.

  Rick shook his head and placed a judicious finger to his lips. Matt fixed him with an accusing glare on the way up the stairs.

  * * * *

  Matt’s long V-neck sweater dwarfed her small frame after Cat jerked it from the dresser drawer, and then pulled it on.

  “I have never been so embarrassed in my life!” she ranted, searching for something to pair with the garment.

  Matt’s lips quirked at her snit as she searched through the clothes. He pulled on sweatpants. “I can see why you’d feel that way, but…”

  “But what?” She huffed and then turned, exasperated. “There is nothing for me to wear with this!”

  “But…seeing your beautiful body is nothing to Rick. In five hundred years, the things he’s seen… I mean, he’s a Dom.”

  “I have to be honest with you. My comprehension ends at twenty-one years, and I don’t think…”

  Matt swept her into a firm embrace. “Breathe with me.”

  “What?” Her gaze flashed to his.

  He repeated the command, low, deep, compellingly. “Breathe. Humans take breathing for granted.” His command was resolute. Matt thought the irony was their time together might be measured in breaths. Cat’s breath fell in line with his. She calmed instantly. “I feel better now. How about you?” he asked after a moment, waiting for her chagrined nod. “If Rick is here because the phones are bugged, then something’s up. We have to be calm and find out what that is. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she grudgingly agreed.

  “Put on some warm socks. You look great.”

  Cat rolled her eyes. “Sister Mary Immaculate would definitely give you demerits for this one!”

  He winked. “I never could stay out of trouble with the nuns.” He guided her out of the room, and then downstairs.

  At the great room dining table, Georgia busied herself steeping tea while Rick enjoyed a Waterford tumbler of blood. She raised a challenging brow to the debonair vampire.

  “What? She’d better get used to it now. Odds aren’t in their favor that Matt will remain human.”

  Matt’s foot hit the bottom stair heavily on Rick’s remark, Cat close behind him. His voice heavy with concern, Matt headed for the table. “Clearly, you’re not here for drinks. What’s gone down, now?”

  “Maybe, you should have some tea before we start.” Rick grimaced. “Maybe something stronger.”

  “Cut the bullshit.” Matt hugged Cat to his side while she fearfully watched the discussion. “What is it?”

  Georgia handed Rick a thick file. “The arsonists were definitely sent by Papa Moreau, who is Veronique’s sire.” He threw pictures onto the table from the file. “Seems Papa is deadly serious about Humanité being a threat to the Vampire Nation, and he has some very influential friends who agree—friends in the Vampire High Council. He’s not thrilled with his offspring’s behavior, and everybody else is paying for it.”

  “Okay.” Matt felt his face drain of color as he looked at the pictures. “Just how much influence does this guy have?”

  “As much as any nine-hundred-year-old vamp,” Rick replied grimly.

  “Nine hundred, huh?” Matt winced.

  “I don’t understand,” Cat whispered.

  Rick turned a censorious glare her way. “If it were simple, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Nearly ninety years of experience told Matt that Rick was right. A vampire’s age equaled power, and a nine-hundred-year-old vampire was a superpower. He scowled. How could he justify dragging Cat into the middle of a fight with a vamp that age? To even have a chance at survival, she’d need a crash course on vampire lore, which could give away more information than he wanted her to know. On the other hand, an effort to keep her ignorant would backfire and probably estrange them. Neither alternative seemed workable or protective. The smart choice was to send her away, now.

  Matt stood, and Rick followed warily. It took everything in Matt to raise his gaze to the woman he loved and make his baleful determination. “Georgia, I need you to take Cat home. She needs to get out of here. Now.”

  “Wha…” Cat began.

  “Now, Cat.” His voice was cold. “You need to get out. Rick and I have to talk.”

  Georgia lowered her gaze. “If you think that’s best.”

  Rick grabbed Matt’s shoulder and spun him so they were face-to-face. “Nobody asked me, but I’ll tell you anyway. I don’t think it’s best.”

  “Thank you, Rick,” Cat murmured.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Matt’s glare was murderous. “You know what’s about to happen. She can’t be in the middle of this.”

  “You’re in love with her. She’s in love with you. You’ve had your ‘honeymoon,’ and now you’re going to throw away the ‘marriage?’”

  “You know mortals and vampires are a fatal combination,” Matt insisted.

  “Not always.”

  “For me,” Matt ground out.

  Rick gave an exasperated huff. “Once, goddammit! Once. And you were a very young vampire.” He sighed as Matt gave him a look of stubborn defiance. “Look, I don’t know what will happen to the two of you in twenty years. Nobody has a guarantee on anything. Hell, Moreau could take you out tomorrow. All any of us have is today, despite the illusion of immortality. Let’s get through today, and let tomorrow take care of itself.”

  “I don’t have to drag Cat with me.”

  “Neither of you may survive this crisis whatever you do.” Rick strode to Georgia’s side and propelled her toward the door. He turned to Matt. “You need to find a way out of this mess together. I’ll expect you in my office tomorrow at dusk. Then we’ll make a plan.”

  Matt scowled, but nodded.

  Rick paused before closing the door. “Don’t try to be a hero, Matt.”

  The door closed. Alone, the reproachful silence was deafening. Ominous, threatening thunder crashed above them. The storm continued to rage, inside and out. Matt cast a cool, assessing gaze toward Cat.

  “Well, that was quite a scene,” she gritted, her gaze focused on the furious storm.

  “Cat…” He reached toward her, devastated to hear her sniffing away tears.

  She stooped to pick up her water-logged clothes from the floor, and then resolutely turned to face him. “I’ll be wearing your sweater home. I guess ‘never’ was shorter than you thought.”

  “Don’t…”

  She cut off his words by picking up her purse and keys from the counter, and then walking out the door. Of course he followed, but what could he say? She’d heard his attempt to protect her as rejection, and he couldn’t blame her. Nor could he escape the knowledge that protection for her equaled insulation for him. If Cat was no longer in his life, she’d be sheltered from Moreau’s vengeance, and he’d no longer be faced with the need to turn her away when he inevitably became a vampire again. Not that either positive would heal the gaping wound in his gut over her loss. What joy would he have without her? How had he forgotten a mortal heart shattered so easily?

  * * * *

  Cat shoved her apartment’s old wooden door open with a brutal thrust of her shoulder. She should have remembered what rainy weather did to it. How could the world remain so unchanged and yet seem so totally differe
nt? Indignantly closing it behind her, she was overcome by the scent of roses. Goddamn Matt! Even when she escaped him, he continued to torment her.

  They rested in their Waterford vase, taunting her from across the room—twelve velvet blossoms in various stages of bloom. One stubborn rose remained tight in its bud, its edges curled, dark maroon like dried blood. Would this have been her had she not spent the weekend with Matt?

  She cradled the crimson gash of the broadest bloom, its petals wide open, its filaments reaching toward the light. She brushed her thumb over it as she admired the notion that it had seen the sun and given up its fragrance. Was Matt her source of light, and did she waste her precious fragrance on a man who plucked her only to callously toss her away?

  Even the sky cried as Cat gazed toward her dingy window with unseeing eyes. Eventually, the rain and tears wore themselves out. In a decisive move, she thrust Matt’s gift of Godiva chocolates under one arm and grabbed the neck of the champagne split. She snagged the wet stems of the twelve red roses with her other hand and shook them hard. Barely a petal fell. Resilient bastards, aren’t they?

  Rage echoing in every step, Cat stomped her way across the small apartment and headed outside, viciously whipping the long-stemmed roses against the wall, side to side, as she headed for the trash. The truffles made a smugly satisfying plop when she lobbed each injured one into the scarred wall of the Dumpster. Once she could only shake the tissue cups from the empty box, she turned her anger on the champagne. With a quick turn of her wrist, she upended the bottle to smash it across the edge.

  “I christen myself, Independent.” She tossed the broken neck into the rubbish.

  Now that her anger had broken, she scanned the parking lot for observers. Did anyone watch her juvenile display? How foolish did she feel behaving like that? She longed for Maria to offer her motherly comfort, but now there was no Maria, no Matt and no comfort. She was alone.

  Sobs clogged her throat, choking the anger, reaching down to shred her heart. Cat wasn’t quite sure how she made it back to the apartment. Chilled with anguish, she forced herself to take a scalding shower, which failed to truly warm her.

  It was around noon of the next day when her whirling mind calmed. She’d analyzed every one of their conversations, ferreted out every nuance of meaning until she’d hit on the only hope she had.

  “You know mortals and vampires are a fatal combination,” he’d told Rick.

  “Not always.”

  “For me.”

  “Once, goddammit! Once. And you were a very young vampire,” Rick had replied.

  What does that mean? Is it the key to Matt’s paradoxical behavior? Rick accused him of loving her, and though Matt hadn’t denied it, neither had he admitted it.

  What did her heart tell her? Without reservation, it said she belonged with Matt. What did her mind tell her? Something had to have happened to him to make him believe his undead nature endangered mortal women. They’d both alluded to it. She wouldn’t let this relationship end without finding out what it was. Matt owed her that truth.

  * * * *

  Rick contemplated the clown fish and anemones drifting tranquilly amidst the other creatures in the expanse of salt water before him. He found the mammoth aquarium a relaxing counterbalance while he bartered for the fortunes of the Consort Group. His peace was rudely interrupted by his assistant’s plaintive cry.

  “You can’t go in there, Miss…”

  Her words died impotently as Cat threw open the ceiling-high walnut door and marched through. Her awed look showed her disorientation in the imposing room. Her gaze searched and finally lit upon Rick as he sat dwarfed behind the broad antique desk.

  “Is this revenge for yesterday?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “I apologized for barging in on you then. Your reaction indicates you expected more.”

  Cat frowned, impatient hands on her hips. “Really? Really? I couldn’t care less.”

  Rick grew uneasy. “Where’s Matt?”

  “That’s not the question.”

  “Indeed? Then, what is the question?”

  Cat marched up to him, leaned across his desk on splayed hands and riveted him with a glare. “What issue did Matt have with a mortal woman, Rick? Why is he so afraid of physical intimacy?”

  “That’s not my tale to tell.” He rose.

  “It’s clear to me that it was tragic, and no one’s willing to let me in on the big secret! I need to know!”

  “Then, you need to ask Matt, and you didn’t answer my question. Where is he?”

  “After I walked out on him? I have no clue. Today, I realized he has some emotional problem involving mortal women. There’s more to all this than getting rid of me.”

  Rick speared her with a stare that looked right into her soul. “So, does obnoxious, bratty behavior often get you what you want?”

  Cat gaped at him. “I’ve never behaved like a brat in my life.”

  “I beg to differ. If you were my woman, I’d already have you across my knee with a strong hand on your red, sore ass.”

  “Right, because that would make me feel so much better!” She gritted her teeth.

  “Maybe not, but I’d feel better, and maybe you’d listen instead of ranting like a petulant child. Because, Cat, right now, nobody needs a whiney child. Especially Matt.”

  Cat inhaled sharply. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m afraid,” she admitted.

  “Ah! A shred of honesty, and truthfully, it is a frightening situation. You both have a lot to lose.” He came around the desk, intentionally imposing, “the two of you are doomed unless you start communicating honestly and stop playing games. You’re young.” He passed a gentle hand over her hair. “And games come naturally to the young, but it’s time to grow up or walk away. I could say the same for Matt.”

  Cat’s voice was subdued. “What should I do?”

  Rick linked his hands and stretched his arms out before him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to put the two of you together in time out and see who comes back alive.”

  Chapter 13

  The last person on earth Matt expected to find under Rick’s quelling gaze was Cat. His fear for her safety subsided after she left. Of course, departing worry had also left him empty and shattered. He halted mid-stride when he saw her and turned a questioning gaze to Rick.

  “If you love them, set them free. If they return to you…” Rick intoned.

  “Shut up, Rick.” He turned to Cat. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find out what happened to the other woman.”

  “What other woman?”

  Rick rolled his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake. She’s talking about Lilli.” He grabbed their hands and joined them. “Go down to your playroom, and don’t fucking come back until you’ve talked it all out and reached a decision. Get in or get out. In this situation, there is no in between. Am I clear?”

  Matt, recognizing the wisdom in Rick’s order, cast an assessing gaze at Cat. “If you want to know the story, I’ll tell you, but it’s an ugly truth. It’s a truth you can’t deny. If you try, I’ll end this.” Cat’s eyes were huge. She nodded.

  * * * *

  Matt was consumed by his own unsettling thoughts as the elevator carried them into the depths of the building. The ride down to the playroom passed in a blur, and before he knew it, they were in his comfortable man cave. Cat glanced around the room, her gaze darting from object to object. She caught his look before he could hide his longing, and tears welled in her eyes.

  “Why did you let me go?”

  “Because, I’m not selfish enough to ask you to stay.”

  “You love me.”

  “Immaterial. Move on.”

  “All right.” Her level gaze bore into him. “What happened to you? Who did you kill, or see killed, or something, because you were a vampire and she wasn’t?”

  Matt stared at her a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was hushed and initially solemn. “In 1922, a few
months after I was turned, I met Lilli. She was one of Rick’s donors, and we found we had a lot in common. Her family had all been cops, and so had mine. Hell, I’d been a cop until…and then I couldn’t work anymore.”

  Matt sighed as the somber memory carried him back. His voice became animated. “She was a doll, a real dish, with legs that went up to her shoulders and big, big baby blues. Rick threw great house parties where the booze and dope flowed despite prohibition, and guests almost always ended up slinking off to the bedrooms for hot, wild sex.

  “It had been a long, lonely, dry spell. Rick introduced me to some new women—ready and willing, but they were all vampires. Cold, clammy.” He shuddered. “Dangerous. They played hard, too hard for pleasure, at least for my taste. So soon after being turned, I was having a hell of time adjusting. More than anything, I wanted to be mortal again, so I guess it was only right I wanted a mortal woman under me. Lilli was soft and warm and responsive, and I wanted to fuck her like crazy. I had wanted to so bad for so long.” He paced in circles as he spoke.

  “That night, we were both a little high on coke. She’d sit on my lap and I’d finger her while she snorted lines off a glass table. There are no words for the high of fucking somebody while the blood in their veins circulates around you and gets you hotter and harder. Even before I bit her, I was cold steel.” He ran a hand through his hair and risked a glance up to Cat to see how she was taking this. “Every time she did a line, that coke would go through her blood stream and I’d soak it up, just fucking.” Matt resumed his pacing, his gaze settling on her shocked open mouth and guarded eyes. Words swelled from his memories as he continued on brutally, unwilling to paint it prettier for her.

  “Her pussy got so hot between the coke, the heightened desire and our fucking that I thought I’d lose my mind. It’d been way too long since I’d felt heat around my dick. I swear to God that sensation alone convinced me I was in love. We were both lonely, and she was everything I wanted. Maybe, if I’d known how, Lilli would be undead now, instead of…” He drew his restless hands through his hair again, and then continued down his face to nervously rub his jaw and neck. He sucked in a tired breath to propel his words, his haunted gaze meeting Cat’s.