by Julia Mills
The squeal of the tires as we tore around a corner was a small prelude to rapid machine gun fire pinging and ponging off the windshield, down the passenger side, and over the trunk of the limo. Apparently, there was more than a little leak in Roarke’s operation since the bastards knew what route we would take to the airport and to escape their initial attack, and had all their bases well covered.
Jase growled, “Son of a fucking bitch,” at the same time he jerked the steering wheel in the opposite direction and ran over what sounded like two more bodies plus a curb before I felt the limo go up on two wheels.
Unable to scream as terror filled my body, I dug my fingernails into Roarke’s forearms, only the weight of his body on top of mine keeping me from flying across the car. Crashing back down to earth with the screech of metal on concrete, the limo lurched forward as once again Jase slammed down the accelerator and more flames shot over the back end of the limo.
Once again I asked, “A flame thrower?”
“Yes!” Roarke spat. “They’re trying to blow us up.”
“Blow us up? What the hell?”
It was then I realized that I had no clue what in the world could possibly harm a vampire. I believe it was my mind’s way of helping me deal with what was happening all around me. Give me a puzzle as a distraction. Madame de Beaufort had laughed when I ask about the whole garlic thing and literally laughed out loud when I mentioned a crucifix, silver, and the whole lack of a reflection thing.
With a high-pitched cackle and a motion to her face, complete with the batting of her eyes and her crazy French accent, the Madame had said, “Do you think I could look like this every day if I could not see my face in a mirror?”
I laughed it off by saying, “Guess Hollywood got it wrong.” When I actually wanted to punch her in that perfectly made up mug. But, I quickly asked, “What about the whole sunlight thing?”
Rolling her eyes and clucking her tongue, the Madame had chastised me with, “Aren’t you the nosey one today?” She went on to say, “Sunlight is an irritant to the younger ones.” From that little tidbit and what Jacques had said about Roarke being an old vampire, I put two and two together and figured out that he could handle a day at the beach.
From Roarke and Jase’s reaction to the fire, I had to guess that it was one of the things that would hurt them. I knew it would damn sure do some serious damage to me and, since they were both flesh and bone, well…it only stood to reason it would hurt them too. It wouldn’t kill them, at least I was pretty sure that was the case from all Madame had taught me, but it would hurt like a bitch.
Then it hit me. Our attackers were aiming for the gas tank. Roarke had said ‘blow us up’. Okay, it all made sense. Vampires had major healing mojo but not even they could put all the pieces back together after an explosion. Not even with all the king’s horses and all the king’s men.
Roarke’s arm around my waist pulled me from my mental holiday as he hoisted me off the floor and onto the seat beside him. “We’ve gotten away from the attack,” he said, “but we’re not going to the compound. One, maybe more, of my own people are involved. That’s the only explanation for what just happened,” he growled before ordering, “Jase, plan X.”
“Yes, sir,” the driver responded, still tearing down the road like Mario Andretti at the Indy 500.
Looking around the limo at the hundreds of puckers in the windows from our attackers’ ammunition attempting to penetrate the bullet proof glass, I could only imagine what the armor plating on the outside of the car looked like from all that plus the flames.
“Plan X?” I asked, barely recognizing my own voice as it cracked and shook.
Roarke’s arm was immediately around my shoulders, pulling me to his side, rubbing my arm. “Yes, it is something only Jase and I know about. A little Doomsday Plan we came up with just in case.” He kissed my forehead and looked me in the eye, “And it seems that just in case is here.”
“W-wh…” I cleared my throat and started again, “Why did they attack like that? I mean bullets don’t hurt you, right? That’s what Madame said.”
Giving the best smile he could muster, Roarke explained, “Actually, they hurt like hell. But no, they cannot kill us.” He placed his index finger under my chin and gently raised my head until we were eye-to-eye. “But they can do considerable damage to you.” His lips touched mine in a tender kiss before he pulled back and looked at me again. “And that is something I simply could not bear.”
Out of nowhere my body started to shake and my head started to spin. It was shock. I’d seen the signs of it in others a hundred times but never experienced myself. Roarke’s face took on a wavy appearance, floating in and out of focus, and his voice sounded like he was talking to me from the bottom of a barrel when he cursed, “Dammit, you’re going into shock.”
I was suddenly so tired that all I wanted to do was sleep, which was great since Roarke was moving faster than my eyes could track and in a flash had me laying with my head on his lap and legs stretching across the seat. Covering me with a blanket he’d pulled from under the seat across from us, he ordered, “Do not got to sleep. I’m not sure if you have a concussion.”
I felt his fingers gently rubbing my scalp as I slurred, “I…didn’t h-hit…m-my h-head.” My eyes felt so heavy. All I wanted was a few precious moments of sleep. I knew it was wrong, but my body was begging for sweet slumber. The nurse part of me was trying to help but plain ol’ Katharine was voting for a power nap.
Once again, Roarke was yelling at Jase, “Hurry, I need to get her out of this damned car and into the light where I can make sure she’s okay.”
“Yes, sir.”
I giggled at Jase’s reply, wondering if ‘Yes, sir’ was the only thing he knew how to say. My world was like a dream - fuzzy around the edges and slightly out of focus with the feeling of floating. Everything was funny.
For the second or maybe it was the third time, I was losing track of time. Roarke gently shook my shoulders and commanded, “Stay awake, we’re almost there.”
Trying with all my might to lift my heavy eyelids, I slurred, “I-I’m…j-just soooo…t-tired.” I swallowed as the car took a right turn that had me rolling around like I was in a rowboat on the rapids. Roarke’s hand on my shoulder kept me from falling onto the floorboard as I begged, “J-just l-…let m-me h-have a…m-minute.”
“Dammit, Katharine,” Roarke growled. “I demand you stay awake.”
Trying to chuckle but finding I just didn’t have the energy, I felt something warm and wet against my lips a split second before Roarke’s wrist was pressed against my mouth and he was ordering, “Drink, Katharine. Now!”
In the deep recesses of my mind I knew it was blood, vampire blood, and that I had no idea whatsoever what it would do to me. But in my dreamy, shock-induced haze, it was only Roarke and he was trying to help me. I knew he would never hurt me. I had no idea how I knew, I just did.
His voice sounded again, this time less commanding, more coaxing as he whispered in my ear, “Please, Katharine, take what I am offering. It will help.” He sounded so sincere, like all that mattered was me feeling better. That, coupled with the butterfly kisses he was tenderly placing on my cheek and neck, sealed the deal.
Opening my mouth, I gently licked his wrist, first one swipe and then another. He tasted sweet like wine and smoky like scotch with a hint of something light and almost floral. That was me. I remembered the taste from when he had kissed me after drinking from my neck. Closing my lips over the wound, I lightly sucked, letting the warm liquid slide across my tongue and down my throat, warming me from the inside, making me feel more cozy than floating.
As I pulled away, afraid I’d taken too much and not sure what vampire blood would do to me, Roarke wiped my lips. With his other hand, he ran his fingers through my hair. “Rest now, the danger has passed. With my blood in your system the risk to your health is no more. We will be at the compound shortly.”
The warmth of his thigh on my cheek a
s I cuddled closer, coupled with his hand stroking my arm and the rich, unmistakable scent of sandalwood and amber that was uniquely Roarke invading my senses, I focused on the slow, steady beat of his heart and drifted closer to sleep. Again, I wanted to ask him how he felt so warm when the first time I’d touched him in the wreckage of my vandalized apartment he’d felt so cold, but the distant ringing of a phone stopped me.
“Roarke here,” he barked as my world was reduced to a single circle of light that was slowly fading away.
I listened to the incoherent mumbling of whoever he was talking to and his low grunts that served as a response, wondering what fresh hell had befallen us now, when he demanded, “What did Jose have to say? What do the police know?”
The silence went on for longer this time. Roarke stopped rubbing my arm. His hand balled into a fist. I could feel him shaking but not from the temperature. He was literally getting angrier by the second.
“And what about our own people?” he barked. Then after a second or two of silence, “Hell yes, I want everyone vetted again,” he growled. “We were ambushed, Monroe.” He was talking through gritted teeth. “They had machine guns and flame throwers. They knew where we would be and what route we would take to escape. It was well-planned with information only a trusted few were privy to.”
Monroe’s voice grew louder but I still couldn’t make out the words. He was clearly rattled and trying to make up for falling short of his employer’s expectations. Roarke took several deep breaths as the attorney rambled on. I wished I could get my eyes open and sit up so I could see Roarke’s face and maybe even catch a bit of what Monroe was saying, but I was too far gone.
Fighting the undeniable urge to sleep, I sighed as Roarke grumbled, “I don’t care. If they want a job they will submit to the questions.”
After a few more seconds of silence and a long deep breath, Roarke began to speak again, but this time his tone left no room for disobedience and was heavy with accusation. “And I will see you in the morning.”
There was a pause. I thought he’d simply hung up and I wondered how the hoity-toity lawyer liked being dismissed. But then he said, “No one is exempt… not even you, Monroe” and disconnected the call.
For a few long seconds all I heard was the sound of the engine. Roarke’s fist slowly relaxed and he began to rub up and down my arm again. I opened my mouth to offer some comfort but nothing came out; my mouth had already fallen asleep.
The last words I heard as my little light extinguished and I gave in to the undeniable urge to slumber was “Sleep, Katharine, rest and heal. Fear not, for I will take the head of the one who has betrayed us.”
Chapter Eight
I woke up with a start, sitting straight up in bed and wondering where the hell I was. Looking around the room, I saw a perfectly decorated space with dark woods and rich fabrics. I thought of Roarke and the memories of our attack came flooding back, complete with the sensory recollection of my drinking his blood.
I knew I wasn’t a vampire. First of all, one drink of blood couldn’t do that and secondly, I didn’t feel any different excerpt for bumps and bruises and a helluva headache. Opening my mouth to speak was like opening a rusty hinge. My throat burned with a medicinal taste and it was then I realized I was no longer in my messed up beige linen suit but a men’s white silk pajama top and nothing else.
Before I could freak out, the door slowly opened and Roarke appeared, carrying a tray of what smelled like food with a pot of tea. “You’re up? That’s a good sign…I think.” He chuckled and for the first time since I’d met him sounded unsure of himself, which only added to his incredible sex appeal.
Setting the tray on the bedside table, he brushed the hair back from my face and simply stood looking down at me. My brain hadn’t gotten back up to speed or at least that’s the only excuse I can come up with for blurting out, “You’re warm. How are you warm?” My voice was little more than a croak and it hurt to speak, but I had done it any way.
Laughing out loud, Roarke pulled his hand away, picked up a cup of tea, and sat down on the bed next to my legs. Handing me the tea, he smiled. “I remembered seeing Earl Grey in your kitchen the night we met. Granted, it was on the floor beside a broken bottle of floor cleaner and trampled, but I took the liberty of having Mrs. Garrity make a pot for you.” Nodding toward the cup, he suggested, “Have a drink. It’ll help your throat and then we can talk?”
After several sips and all I could take of the uncomfortable silence, I turned, put my cup and saucer on the table, sat back on my pillows, and began. “I do want to know about the warm hands thing, but first of all, can I ask how I got from my suit to what I’m guessing is your pajama top?”
“I had to make sure you had no other injuries than the bump on your head. Your suit was a mess and I wanted you to be comfortable.”
“So you…” I couldn’t quite get the words out as I felt the heat of a blush starting somewhere near my toes and working its way to the top of my head, coloring my skin. I had no idea why I was freaking out after our kiss in the limo, but I was, and his answer only made it worse.
“Saw you naked?” he asked, working really hard to look innocent.
Nodding, I murmured, “Uh huh,” as my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Well, yes, I did and I must say,” he picked up my hand where it lay on the bed and kissed across my knuckles, making sure to hold my eyes captive with his gaze as he purred, “You are even more beautiful naked than I imagined.”
“Than…y-you imagined?” I knew I was stammering but, between the pounding of my heart and the look in Roarke’s eyes, it was better than hyperventilating.
“Of course. Now, to answer your questions.” He laid my hand back on the bed and covered it with his. “I have found over the years that people find the usually cool temperature of my skin very off-putting. Either from our makers or as we get older, vampires acquire different abilities. One of mine is the ability to keep my body temperature at a perfect ninety-eight point six degrees with little to no effort. It’s not something I do all the time or when I’m meeting with people I don’t especially like, and I will admit even at my age, I forget if I get distracted.” He turned my hand over and laid his palm on mine, letting just the tips of his finger tease the pulse as it jumped in my wrist.
“How old are you?” I slapped my free hand to my mouth and quickly apologized through my fingers. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. That just popped out.”
His face lit up with a huge smile as he chuckled. “Not a problem. You can ask me anything. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you to be my courtesan. I am the first vampire you’ve ever been this close to...been able to question,” he paused and raised an eyebrow, “been attracted to?”
I wanted to deny it, wanted to act cool and aloof, but the fact was after our little escapade in the limo, he knew all about me. I was not, however, going to agree outright. My pride wouldn’t let me go that far and apparently, Roarke knew that. His smile widened and he nodded. “Very well, we’ll discuss that later.” He winked. “As for my age, I was born in 1107 to a peasant farmer and a midwife. In 1123 I became a soldier for Pope Urban II in the Crusades and in 1129 I was promoted to one of the revered Knights Templar. In 1142 I was mortally wounded defending the Roman Catholic Church in lands that we now call the Middle East.”
Pausing, he looked out the window, and when he spoke again it was as if he were watching the events play out in his mind. “I lay in a pool of my own blood among others of my order when a man dressed in a black cape with a large brimmed hat covering most of his face appeared out of the shadows. He knelt down beside me, looked at my wounds, and informed me in no uncertain terms that I would be dead in a matter of minutes.”
Looking back to me, I saw pain mixed with appreciation in his eyes. “Letting my head fall to the side, I waited for death when the man grabbed my chin, looked me in the eyes, and said, ‘But there’s another way.’ I don’t remember if I heard his complete explanation or if I
truly agreed but nonetheless, on that night, on that battlefield littered with bodies, I was turned. I have been and will remain until the day someone takes my head, for all intents and purposes, thirty-five years old, or at least as far as appearances go.” He smiled. “I know that is more than you asked, but I had a suspicion you wanted to know the story.”
“But…you’re… really?”
“Nine hundred and ten, sometime this year.” He winked. “So, I guess it could be said we have a May-December thing going on here.” He motioned between us and I couldn’t help but snicker at his attempt to ease my tension. Then he added, “Are you sufficiently freaked out yet?”
I leaned forward, still focused on the weird mix of emotions I felt coming from him. Touching his face with the back of my fingers, I was amazed at how smooth his skin felt, just like he was in his mid-thirties. It should have been scary. I should have been jumping from the bed and running for the hills. Vampires were the enemy. Vampires were killers. Vampires had taken my family from me.
But not this vampire…not this man. No, he had come to my rescue, offered to give me back my life, been nothing but a gentleman even when he was giving me the first orgasm of my life in the back of a limo and then saving my life. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame but had no fear of getting burnt. Something deep inside told me as long as Roarke was by my side, the big bad evils of the world could never touch me.
Leaning forward, I laid my lips to his. Kissed first one corner and then the other of his beautiful mouth before concentrating on his perfectly shaped Cupid’s bow and running just the tip of my tongue along the seam of his lips. It was as if I’d flipped the switch. Roarke opened immediately, his tongue invading my mouth, stroking mine with delicate finesse as his fingers thrust into my hair, massaging the back of my head and holding me in place.
My nipples tightened and brushed against the sensual silk of his pajama top. His touch, his kiss, pulled at something deep inside of me. My body was immediately wet and needy. Goose bumps danced all over my skin.
