by Nocturne
“Off or on doesn’t matter, it remains traceable.”
The stubborn expression on her face made him sigh.
One final attempt, then he’d throw it and face her wrath. “Is this thing—” he held out the phone “—worth your life?”
Silence for an instant, then she grudgingly answered, “No. Toss it.”
Malachi didn’t wait. He opened the window and pitched it into the street.
It was then he realized he should have had Cass throw it even if she was busy driving. The pickup was close enough to know there was no one in the passenger seat, but that was the window the phone had flown out of and it was obvious that she hadn’t been the one who’d disposed of it. Did the hunters know enough to guess there was a shade with her?
Probably, he decided. They knew the steps necessary to kill a vampire, they’d realized they could take out Cass and eliminate the problem she’d caused by not beheading her assignments, and they’d had too much success to discount them.
Cass squealed around another corner. She stopped the car’s fishtail and zoomed forward. The truck was closing in now.
“No,” she moaned quietly.
Malachi shifted his gaze forward. There was a railroad crossing dead ahead. Red lights flashed and the guard arms were lowered into position.
He scanned the area, looking for a way out. The road was too narrow to make a U-turn and there wasn’t a handy cross street before the tracks. He would have added a few curses to the litany Cass was reciting, but he didn’t have time for that.
His mind whirled, rejecting option after option. Nothing got her out of this mess. His fear spiked. The best choice he could come up with was to stop the car, get out and run.
Before he could offer the suggestion, Cass came up with her own idea.
She put the pedal to the floor and raced toward the tracks.
CHAPTER FOUR
The train blew its horn, but Cass didn’t slow.
If she stopped, the men in the pickup truck would kill her. She’d rather take her chances playing “beat the locomotive.”
Squaring her shoulders, she drew a deep breath. Malachi was a shade, his body safely buried in an unmarked grave. She wasn’t risking him, only herself. Cass glanced quickly to her right, but he wasn’t there. She was on her own then. Big surprise.
She pressed the accelerator to the floor.
The gate arm crashed against the car, the sound as loud as an explosion. Cass winced, but stayed steady.
The lights mounted on the front of the engine lit up the sedan’s interior. The train horn blew long and with an urgency that felt palpable. She looked out the side window, but all she could see was metal roaring toward her.
And then she was on the other side, the vehicle shaking as the train passed directly behind the rear bumper. She kept driving. She didn’t know how long the train was and she wanted to be gone before the pickup crossed the tracks.
Cass focused on escape, afraid that she’d break down if she spent even a second recalling how close—
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded harshly.
Tears welled. She wouldn’t cry. She never cried. And it wasn’t as if he had any reason to be frightened. Anger drove away the weepiness and Cass embraced it. “What do you care? You weren’t here. I don’t know why you disappeared since being hit by a speeding locomotive wouldn’t hurt you a bit.”
“Don’t push me, Cassandra.”
His cold control made her angrier. “Don’t call me Cassandra.”
“Then don’t insult me.”
Her hands trembled and she clutched the steering wheel firmly to hide it. “Oh, yeah, I forgot,” she drawled, letting sarcasm drip from each word, “you need me to rescue you from limbo. Oops, guess you do care.”
“Bloody hell! You believe I sat here worrying about myself? You think that’s all you are to me, a means to an end?”
Malachi had lost his temper along with his American accent. He was pissed off? Well, too bad. “No, you didn’t sit there worrying. You bugged out when the going got tough.”
“You’re calling me a coward?” His voice had taken on a definite growl to go with the heat.
“If the cape fits, fang boy.” She grimaced at her lame insult. Well, whatever. Adrenaline aftermath didn’t exactly inspire snappy repartee.
The sound he made was so far from human that Cass felt her mouth go dry. Maybe infuriating a vampire wasn’t her best idea ever. But he was a shade, right? What could he do to her? And he needed her to unstake him or he was trapped in never-never land forever.
Besides, if anyone had the right to be angry it was her. She’d trusted him to stick by her, although Cass had no idea why. No one in her entire life had been there when she needed them and he was no different. The sense of belonging was a fantasy, something she’d built up in her head because of the circumstances. It wasn’t real and it wasn’t reciprocated.
“I was present for the entire ride. I went nowhere.”
“Liar. I checked before I hit the tracks and you weren’t here.”
“And where do you think I went? The car was moving.”
“Ghosts pop in and out all the time.”
“I’m not a ghost, I’m a—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a shadow. I get it. That doesn’t mean you didn’t leave me on my own.”
No reply and Cass turned her head to glare at him. The passenger side of her car was empty. Maybe she’d driven him away for good. Instead of feeling satisfaction, a stab of fear pierced her. What had she expected? Really.
“Slow down. You have to make a left at the next intersection to get to Laurent’s home.”
“What?” She jerked her gaze toward him, but the seat remained empty. “Where are you?”
“Right beside you as I was when you played chicken with a train.” Malachi’s English accent was pronounced. “Left at the light. Do you hear me?”
That question and his tone made Cass grind her teeth, but she nodded and switched lanes.
He’d been invisible most of the four days since he’d started hanging around. Until tonight, she’d sensed him, felt him touch her, but she hadn’t been able to see or hear him. Maybe Malachi wasn’t lying about being with her when she’d raced the train.
She mulled that over. Cass realized she had a chip on her shoulder. She always jumped to the worst conclusion when it came to assuming someone had abandoned her, but she couldn’t help that. Her mom had dropped her off at kindergarten and hadn’t bothered to come back—that had made an indelible impression on her life—and being passed around foster care hadn’t done anything to overcome her insecurities.
Malachi gave her another set of directions with less of an accent. Cass made the first turn and then glanced over. He was filmy, but she could see him again.
Ten minutes later when he provided the next instructions, he sounded American. A quick check verified what she suspected—he was solid once more. When he’d been angry, he’d been invisible, but as his temper had cooled, he’d become real again. Okay, sort of real.
That gave her more to consider. She hadn’t reached any definite conclusions when, a while later, he interrupted her thoughts.
“Park the car,” he said. “We’ll walk from here.”
“Walk? Why?” But she did pull to the curb and turned off the engine. “You tossed my phone and no one has followed us since we lost the pickup.”
“Better to be safe and they know what you’re driving.” He got out of the car.
Cass watched him round the hood, but she didn’t move. Walk? In L.A.? Malachi opened her door for her and held out a hand. She stared at it a moment before unhooking her seat belt, grabbing her purse and letting him help her. No one had ever opened a door for her before. “How old are you anyway?”
Instead of answering, he made a bow, and when he straightened, offered her his elbow. “Milady.”
Bemused, she took it and walked beside him. “Lady. Yeah. If I’d been born in your time—w
henever that was—I probably would have been a scullery maid.”
“Do you know what that is?”
“No,” she admitted reluctantly, “but from the books I’ve read, it sounded like a lowly position.”
“It was, but if it makes you feel better, I didn’t rank much higher.”
He didn’t sound mad any longer and Cass ignored the sense of relief. Adrenaline—there was no doubt that’s what had made them both feel combative earlier, but she was glad things were relaxed now.
Well, mostly relaxed. She was far too aware of the brush of his hip against hers as they walked, the play of the muscles of his forearm beneath her hand, and the way he made her heart beat faster just being beside her. “I don’t know about that,” Cass said. “Your accent came across pretty aristocratic to me.”
“Many decades of practice.” Malachi gave her a smile that had her stomach doing a flip. “If I’d spoken the way I did when I was alive, I doubt you’d have understood a word I said.”
She looked around, studying her surroundings until she had a grip on her hormones. “Speaking of aristocratic, check out this neighborhood.”
And she was dressed like a Madonna wanna-be. Malachi didn’t look any better. His jeans had seen better days and his black T-shirt was faded and frayed. Cass stifled a groan. “We’re going to get arrested for being here.”
His grin widened. “You’ll get arrested. I’m visible only to you.”
“What? You’re solid and completely seeable.”
“Only to you,” he repeated.
Oh, awesome. “So anyone who’s looking out a window thinks I’m talking to myself. I’ll end up in the psyche ward, not jail.”
“The houses are set far enough back from the sidewalk, that it’s unlikely anyone can see you conversing with me.”
“Right. That makes me feel much better.” Cass stiffened. “Wait a second, no one can see you? Even now? Tell me that doesn’t include your vampire friend.”
“I would, but I’d hate to lie.”
Cass groaned and pulled him to a halt. “Malachi! Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“I did, but I chose not to remind you because you’d have refused to come. As a shade, I’m unable to protect you from much. I trust Laurent to take care of you while I can’t.”
She stared at him hard.
Malachi covered her hand with his and squeezed gently. “He’s a good friend and isn’t someone who will attack without provocation. I’ll tell you what to say to convince him I’m with you.” When she hesitated, he added, “Trust me.”
The scary thing was that she did trust him. She wished she could believe it was because he wanted something from her, but Cass knew that wasn’t the truth. And maybe it was part of the reason why she’d become furious when she thought Malachi had cut out on her earlier tonight. Somehow he’d become important to her.
“If this Laurent dude kills me,” she grumbled, “I will come back as a ghost and haunt you, got it?”
“I’m not worried.” He gave her a small tug to get her moving. “Come on.”
But when they turned into a driveway a good fifteen minutes later, the house that stood at the end of it was completely dark. Vampires were nocturnal; there should be some sign of life.
He frowned, but led her to the door. “Ring the bell.”
Cass did. No lights came on and no one answered. She looked up at him.
“I don’t hear anyone moving around,” he confirmed. “Laurent isn’t home.”
The immediate relief she felt at not facing a vampire in his lair was tempered by the knowledge that Malachi had admitted he couldn’t protect her very well. Sure Los Angeles was a big city, but without money, how long could she hide before the hunters located her? One swipe of her credit card for food, gas, or a hotel and she was sunk.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“Find the spare key and go in.”
Cass stared at him. Let herself inside a vampire’s house and have him arrive to find her there? After Malachi said she was a known vampire hunter? “I think Laurent might consider me being inside his home to be a provocation and a reason to attack.”
“Then you’ll have to stake him, won’t you?” Malachi said with a grin.
“I thought he was your friend.”
“He is, but you can explain the truth while he’s down. Shades can hear, you know, even if no one hears us in return. Then, once you say your piece, yank out the wood. He’ll heal.”
“And no doubt be mad as hell.”
“No doubt.” But Malachi sounded amused at the prospect.
Cass shook her head. Vampires—who could understand them?
CHAPTER FIVE
Cass took one look around the entryway of Laurent’s home and edged closer to Malachi. The place could have graced the pages of some decorating magazine and everything appeared hugely expensive. “Wow, your friend sure went all out.”
Malachi laced his fingers with hers and grinned. “That’s because Laurent de Brinay was born to the aristocracy and he’s accustomed to his finery. Don’t worry. His lordship isn’t attached to these things and if we break something, he won’t have us flogged.”
She replayed his words. “You used to sweat about knocking something over, didn’t you?”
His smile faded. “When I was human, I was a tenant farmer who always had dung on his boots. Until I became a vampire, I’d never dreamed homes such as this existed. It was difficult not to be intimidated—at least initially.”
For the first time, she noticed that the hand she held was rough and callused. She liked that, and imagined his palms running over her body…. Cass shivered and watched the heat flare in his eyes. He knew what he did to her, knew and responded to her desire. Malachi had told her the attraction went both ways and now she believed it. He was as helpless against the want as she was.
“Why did you spend the last four days touching and kissing me?”
“Because I couldn’t stop myself.” His voice was deep, husky. Sexy. “I realize I had no right, but you can be assured that I didn’t do more and I never invaded your privacy by entering your bedroom or bath.”
That startled Cass. She hadn’t considered that he might have watched her sleep or shower. “Good, because that kind of weird stalker behavior would have creeped me out.”
His lips curved, not a full-fledged smile, but enough to make her heart beat faster. “I couldn’t have gotten away with it had I tried. You reacted the instant I entered the room, and when I spoke to you, your brow would furrow as if you could hear me.”
“I nearly could. I just couldn’t make out the words.”
Malachi gave her a gentle tug and pulled her deeper into the house. Cass drew a sharp breath as he turned on the lights in the…well, living room seemed too mundane, but she didn’t know what else to call it. “Are those real Fabergé eggs lying out on the end tables?”
“It’s likely,” he said.
That meant the vases were probably genuine Ming dynasty and the paintings… “You might not have dreamed homes like this existed, but I never dreamed I’d be inside a house like this. Ever. None of the vampires I staked lived like—Oops.”
He laughed and that good, shivery feeling went through her, making her tingle in all the right places. “I know you hunted vampires—you don’t have to censor that part of your life. As for living in this manner, most of us go through a phase of collecting expensive things, but after a while, you realize it doesn’t matter.”
“Did you?” Everything about him fascinated her and Cass knew that spelled trouble.
“For a time, yes, but I never felt comfortable with it.” Malachi drew her against his body and wrapped her in a loose embrace. “Once a peasant, always a peasant.”
His light teasing added to the warmth she felt. Why him? Talk about a doomed relationship. She’d driven a stake into him, and if that weren’t enough, she had people who wanted her dead. And Malachi, too, for that matter.
With a sigh, C
ass put her arms around his waist and rested her cheek to his chest. “What do we do now?”
“Since you don’t trust me to honor my word and protect you if I was a vampire once more, I suggest we hide here until we can think up some other way to keep you safe.”
Cass stiffened and leaned back to meet his eyes. Hurt. She’d hurt him. “I trust you. I do,” she said sharply when he would have disagreed. “That stuff in the car where I thought you’d left, that was about me, not you.”
His gaze assessed her and Cass fought the need to conceal her vulnerability. “I have a few abandonment issues.” She shrugged and tried to smile. She failed. “But that has nothing to do with freeing you. They kill vampires, and unlike me, they will chop off your head.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“Yes.” The urge to look away was even stronger now, but Cass refused to be a chicken. “If I unstake you, they’ll hunt me for the rest of my life. Are you willing to commit to guarding me for sixty or seventy years?”
“If necessary, I would.” He stopped her before she could argue by brushing his lips over hers. “I loathe limbo. There aren’t words to tell you how much. For releasing me alone, I’d happily spend the next hundred years protecting you.”
“But—”
Malachi kissed her again, stopping her midprotest. Cass kissed him back, savoring the feel of him. She had it bad for this guy. Really bad. Opening her mouth beneath his, she invited him to deepen the kiss. As his tongue teased hers, her eyes drifted shut.
This wasn’t adrenaline. This wasn’t loneliness or gratitude for his help. This was about Malachi, about how he made her feel when he touched her. About how she loved touching him in return.
He ended the kiss and Cass moaned a protest as she met his gaze. His lips were barely out of reach of hers when he said, “I was born in the sixteenth century. Do you think seventy years is a daunting length of time for me?”
“Probably not.”
That half smile of his again, the one that made her breath catch. “It’s all moot, though, you know. The connection between us is strong enough to keep me at your side until you grow tired of me and tell me to leave.”
