Drawing Deep

by Jennifer Dellerman

  “I’m used to it,” Lance took one key and handed the second to Robby who added, “I’m just thrilled to have a bed. Sleeping on the hard ground gets old real quick.”

  “And Chris. You requested one of our suites. I’ve placed you in, ah... Room 208?” Melinda looked from the key card Rome handed her to the monitor. “208 it is. A lovely suite, with a spectacular view of the bay.” She passed the card to Chris. “Gwen has gone to collect some snacks to help tide you over until breakfast. Rome will show you your rooms.”

  “Excuse me,” Robby hurried to ask. “But what time is breakfast?”

  “Between seven and nine in the dining room. It’s buffet so you’re welcome anytime between then. Dinner is at six-thirty, also buffet. The week’s menu is posted on the nightstand in each room as is the b&b’s information. If anyone has special requirements or food allergies, please let me know. There’s a refrigerator stocked with drinks and snacks in the dining room alcove if you get hungry during the day or miss a meal. There are also several baskets of muffins, cookies and bags of chips in the same location. We do ask our guests not to gorge or horde as that’s not only discourteous, it is unnecessary. If you find something to your liking and wish to leave with a care package, you need only ask.”

  With that politely orated warning, Melinda bade them goodnight and swept down the hallway toward the back of the house.

  “Wow.” Robby whispered as he stared after Melinda. “I’m in awe of your mom.”

  Rome’s eyes narrowed on the male who had yet to reach thirty, but after a deep inhalation, his shoulders relaxed. “She has that affect on people. Let’s get you to your rooms. You need help with any of those?” He nodded at their array of luggage.

  “No, we’re good.” Chris said and, when Rome turned that arched brow to him, quickly added, “Thanks for the offer, though.”

  Behind their boss’s back, Lance, Robby and Ria shared wide-eyed looks, then followed Rome and Chris down the short hall to a wide staircase. The rich, smooth mahogany banister matched the checkin desk and flared gracefully out at the base where the steps gradually became wider.

  After agreeing to meet the others in the dining room at seven sharp the next morning, Ria was finally able to enter her room. As anxious as she was to get out onto the site and get going, she was exhausted and didn’t relish the rising sun.

  Once she locked the door behind her, she dumped her bags on the bed and immediately began to rummage in her oversized purse. Bypassing a pack of herbal cigarettes, she reached into an interior zippered compartment and pulled out a cell phone. Not her usual one, which was in an exterior pocket, but a special phone that had her breathing a sigh of relief when the screen lit up. It still had power. Taking out the charger, she walked over to a small vanity and plugged it in. Compared to most cell phones today, it appeared thick and on the bulky side. Old fashioned. That was the beauty about advancing technology. Anyone seeing this particular phone would think Ria behind the times for having something so antiquated. Except it wasn’t what it appeared. Yes, it was a cell phone, and would function as one for a short time, if she actually had service to it. She didn’t, because that’s not why she carted it around.

  On the side was a miniscule slide button. When she pushed it over, the battery cover slide free, which she set on the counter, followed by the battery itself. What was revealed looked like the back of any other phone, except for an almost unnoticeable black piece of tape. Carefully pulling that free and placing it right side up next to the other pieces of the phone, she looked at the tiny switch hidden by the tape. Flicking it caused the phone to separate in half, and she ran a finger over what had been hidden there.

  The quarter pint of blood was cool to the touch.

  Satisfied, and amazed at her friend’s ingenuity, Ria reassembled everything. Dax had given her the phone as a mutual favor. She was testing for durability, longevity and passibility. It was also a back-up to the back-up. Though she’d had plenty of blood before this trip, she, and he, had noticed her need for the liquid nourishment had recently begun to increase.

  Neither knew what it meant.

  What she did know was that explaining away her occasional pouts of fatigue or deathly paleness of skin beneath her sun-kissed tan as symptoms of her autoimmune anemia was preferable to the reality.

  Because everyone knew vampires were myths.

  Chapter Three

  Though showered and dressed, Ria was still bleary-eyed as she stepped out the slider door onto her little private balcony. Reaching fingers from the weak morning sun crept over the large garden at the back of the house, bringing warmth to the beautiful and vast arrangement of flowers and vibrant plants interspersed with benches, a gazebo and a covered swing. An inviting wonderland that beckoned one to come on down and sit a spell.

  Affected by the chilly dawn temperature and her damp hair, she wrapped the light-weight jacket tighter across her middle. Flicking her lighter, she breathed in a lungful of the herbs contained in her cigarette. A special blend of herbs created by her friend Dax to mask one’s scent against those who had a nose for sniffing out the truth.

  Like a shifter finding out she was a vampire. A dangerous situation she most definitely did not want to become a reality.

  Eyes narrowed at the possibility, Ria took another drag. She didn’t much care what was in it, as long as it worked. And from experience, she knew it did. At least against full-bloodied vamps who also possessed heightened senses. Ria, on the other hand, was only part vampire. She was also the great-granddaughter of a sorcerer. Not that she had any magic powers to speak of, or if she did, they had yet to manifest. Her bite, on the other hand, did contain a type of temporary paralytic when she needed to take sustenance from the source rather than a bag. An intimate act she tended to shy away from, as the drawback was arousal, for both her and her host.

  As she smoked, and occasionally shivered, she looked beyond the garden to the orchards that made up the majority of the Felix family reputation. Rows upon rows of trees heavy with ripe oranges, black olives and avocados covered nearly half the land. Buildings of different shapes and sizes were scattered throughout the area as well, including the barn she knew Porter lived over. Off to her left, she could just make out a section of a two-story house the oldest son, Santos, lived in.

  Santos. Just the thought of the dark-haired, dark-skinned man made her twitchy, and not in a fight or flight sense. This was pure feminine nerves running amok at the memory of a man she must have combined with a too-good-to-be-true fantasy. No male was that good-looking, that virile, that damn fascinating that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Her memory had to be faulty. It was the only explanation why an almost stranger drew her to him like a magnet to steel.

  Or blood to a vampire.

  Maybe that was it. Maybe the blood that coursed through his veins was stronger, more potent because he was more than human. Then again, she hadn’t felt this sharp tug toward any of the other shifter males, and she certainly hadn’t had naughty dreams about them. Or waking fantasies, which was completely humiliating to Ria who prided herself on refusing to allow any male to control her actions or thoughts since leaving her dysfunctional family behind. Growing up with a dominating father, a demented great-grandfather and a deranged much older sister had nearly warped her, but thankfully she’d had enough morals left that when daddy had demanded Ria, then barely sixteen, lay with her brother-in-law “for as long as it takes to get pregnant”, Ria had bailed.

  And panicked every damn day since her escape over eleven years ago that she would be found and dragged back to that hellish environment.

  She unclenched her jaw at those memories and took another drag. At the same time, movement in the middle of a row of orange trees caught her attention. Santos stepped into view. Though he was too far away for her to scrutinize each detail of his face, she had no problem appreciating the feline grace of his movements, the strength of his body and pull of his muscles as he braced a foot against a tree trunk. She had n
o idea what he was doing until several oranges fell into his waiting hands. And the way his fingers closed over the round fruit nearly made her eyes cross in jealous desire, wanting to know how those fingers would feel on the bare flesh of her breasts. Even now they grew heavy and achy with need, her body reacting as if she caught sight of a long-lost and longed for lover.

  Not good. Not good at all.

  Did I bring my binoculars?

  When that inane thought popped into her mind, she shook it free, and watched with greedy eyes as Santos walked the line of trees with a casual swagger. Every now and then he would reach up and trail his fingers over an orange, and she wanted to whimper.

  Disgusted at herself – though she didn’t seem to be turning her back on the sight of him now did she? – Ria took another drag from her cigarette, letting his image blur behind a veil of smoke when she slowly exhaled. She must be suffering from jet lag. Or indigestion. Or something. No way did she have the hots for a shifter.

  As she wrapped her lips around the filter one last time, two things happened. Santos abruptly turned his head, his gaze unwaveringly focused in her direction, and her cell phone, in the outside pocket of her jacket, let out what seemed to be a shrill ring in the still, nearly silent morning.

  Startled, Ria choked and coughed and blinked as tears blurred her vision. By the time she got herself under control, Santos was gone, as was the caller.

  “No wonder they say these things will kill you,” she rasped to herself as she dropped the butt into a partially filled plastic cup of water she’d used last evening.

  Walking back inside, she headed for the mini-fridge located under the vanity and yanked out the coke Gwen had provided in last night’s snack basket. She checked her phone, then frowned at the number that popped on the screen. Dax. With the two-hour time difference it was nearly four-thirty in the morning back home. Not that it wasn’t unusual for him to be up at this hour. He was a bartender at his family-run nightclub, and a vampire himself, but as they’d seen each other only days ago, the call was odd. At one time they’d been close, at least physically, but her walls of self-preservation and the horrors of her childhood had created a barrier to anything more. They’d manage to part as friends of a sort, with a measure of concern and caring on both sides.

  “Everything all right?” She asked the second he answered.

  “With us, yes. You, I’m not so sure about.” Us was his family, which now extended to his very pregnant, loving, and pretty wife. A perky human woman Ria had come to approve and care for as well. “An older man came in last night, flashing your picture around – a recent one at that – and asking if anyone had seen you.”

  Heart coming to a screeching halt, Ria slowly sank down onto the bed. “What did he look like?”

  “Not a vamp or shifter, but not totally human either. Late fifties. Five-eleven. Light brown hair liberal with gray. Grey-blue eyes. Had a couple other men with him. Muscle was my take. Ring any bells?”

  A greasy ball of terror coiled in her chest. “Maybe.” The single word strangled in her throat.

  “Dammit, Ria. He resembled you so much he could have been your father.”

  Which he was. Her older sister favored their long-deceased vampiric mother in both looks and attitude, while Ria had been told more than once – and punished often for it – that her rebellious nature flowed directly from her paternal grandmother. Tossed out into the savage wilderness with nothing but a baby boy in her arms, Mala hadn’t lasted long before she was attacked by a wolf shifter bent on revenge against the cruelty and prejudices great-grandaddy Kalin inflicted on the surrounding shifter community. Mala had fought with her sorcery, the shifter with teeth and claws. Only a subdued baby had been found alive when Kalin rescinded his order and had sent guards out to retrieve his only child.

  Refusing to take any blame in the matter, Kalin became even more obsessed with his zealous quest to inflict destruction on those who carried a beast in their soul, yet ignored his own blackening one. He raised his grandson in the same way, passing on a twisted and evil legacy.

  “Did...” Mouth drier than dirt, Ria paused to take a drink, though her stomach revolted. “Did you tell him you knew me?”

  What seemed like an endless period of silence passed. Not a good sign. She must have made some sound of distress because Dax finally spoke, quiet apology coating his tone, “I had no choice, Ria. He hit the tables before the bar and I overheard some asshole say he saw you talking to me last Saturday. It’s a damn good thing I did too, otherwise this guy would have become suspicious.”

  “Someone remembered me?”

  Dax let out a curse. “You’re hard not to. Few women can wear hair that short and still look hot. Then there’s the curves you couldn’t hide under a potato sack. You look like a white Halle Berry. With a bigger butt. Not easily forgettable.”

  Reflexively, she ran a hand through the short, wavy, thick strands, saying in defense, “If the picture was recent than it wouldn’t matter if it was long, short or dyed orange.”

  Dax let out a frustrated sound. “True. But, babe, he offered me a grand to give him a phone call the next time I saw you.”

  Ria carefully set the bottle of coke on the nightstand when her shaking hand threatened to spill the contents. “Shit.”

  “Indeed. It’s possible he made the same offer to a couple others. When you get back in town, stay away from the bar.”

  She wanted to scream with the injustice of it all. “Stay away from the bar? I’m going to have to stay away from the city.” Staying on the move meant safety, but she’d thought she might have another few years to call New Mexico home, especially since her job kept her traveling for long periods of time. Yet it seemed time had just slipped through her fingers like so much sand.

  Closing her eyes against a wave of anger and despair, she ignored the beep on her phone signaling an incoming call.

  “As much as I’d hate to see that happen, it might be best. Anyway you can hang where you’re at for awhile? Give the old man time to get frustrated and move on?”

  A possibility she had no desire to test. Between her continued irritation with her boss and now her father’s sudden appearance back home, Ria knew it was time to move on. But not here. “Hello? Shifters? Remember? Besides, Chris only plans on being here for a week unless something pretty phenomenal happens.”

  “Just think about it. I’ve told you before, not all vamps and shifters have this weird Hatfield and McCoy viewpoint that you do. However,” he pressed on before she could interrupt, “you have to admit they’re incredibly powerful creatures. Frankly, from what you’ve told me, all the males there are alphas. We’re talking uber tough, Ria. I honestly don’t know any safer place.”

  “Unless they hate vampires.”

  “Which you’ll never know until you ask.”

  Ria snorted. “Oh, I can just picture that conversation. Hi. I’m a vamp. Do you mind if I hang with you awhile or do you plan on shredding me to pieces?”

  Dax exhaled so loud it made a whoosh noise through the phone. “You’re prejudice is showing, and it’s not pretty, girl. Feel them out, and maybe ease off the cigarettes. One a day. Enough to mask your scent from other vamps, but light enough to make the cats curious.”

  “And if they kill me?”

  A pause. “Well. You’ll die knowing you were right.”

  Her eyes rolled. “That’s comforting.”

  Dax chuckled. “Only because you know I’m right. I’ve had more experience with the fuzz balls. Trust me. We may no longer be together, but you know I’d never steer you toward danger.”

  Ria gazed up at the idle ceiling fan over the bed. “I know. You’ve always been better to me then I deserved.”

  “No, babe. You deserve happiness. Everyone does. You only need to lean how to love yourself before you can love anyone else.”

  Uncomfortable at the direction their conversation had turned, Ria rubbed agitated fingers over the comforter. She’d rather talk about blood and d
eath than emotional introspection. “Working on it.”

  “My advice?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Work faster.” Dax hung up, making Ria glare at the phone.

  She didn’t know how long she lay there, staring at nothing as she tried to process everything: her father, her job, her home. Herself. Should she stay or should she go? Should she tell the Felix family what she was and hope for the best, or not?

  Frozen by indecision, she twitched when her phone let out a discreet chime informing her of a new text. Lifting the device, she scanned the message from Lance.

  Boss pissed u missed breakfast. Stuck u on towing detail. Melinda will explain. Sorry.

  Nice. She flung an arm over her eyes, thinking what she should do is just go back to bed and start this horrible day over again.

  Chapter Four

  Though not particularly hungry after Dax’s call, the rich scent of bacon teased her nose and belly into waking hunger before she even reached the dining room. Ria scooped scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and a small pile of fruit onto her plate from the buffet laid out on top of the sideboard and made her way to an open seat. There were plenty. As in all of them. She was currently the only occupant in the room, which suited her mood. Trying to make polite conversation at a time when she only wanted to wallow in fear and frustration – and stuff her face at the same time – would simply tax her already stretched-too-thin nerves.

  Biting into the bacon alleviated her mood a notch. The second piece easing her even more.

  The magic of comfort food.

  After stuffing the last piece of melon into her mouth, she eyed the chafing dishes, contemplating seconds. Or possibly absconding with one of those muffins. She had nothing else to do until Melinda appeared to explain the whole towing thing Lance had texted her about. Though she wanted to get out onto the site and get to work, it was still chilly out, and she might just whack Chris over the head with a shovel if he so much as looked at her wrong.