Caradoc led me into a room with a large stone fireplace in it. Two red sofas sat across from each other. They were trimmed with beautiful gold leafing that made your eye follow the s-curve of the feet. A massive Serape rug covered the floor. Cherry end tables flanked each end of the red sofas. Candles sat on them and dripped wax down onto the rich wood. I had half a mind to walk up and put a coaster under them to protect the integrity of the tables. I got the feeling that no one else here cared, so I let it be.
The room had several doors in it. I had no clue where any of them went, so I kept my back near the exit. I didn’t like leaving myself vulnerable, but the room didn’t leave me many options.
"Please have a seat." Caradoc motioned to one of the couches. "Can I offer you anything to drink?"
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I was afraid to say yes and get a big glass of blood, and afraid to say no and come off as rude.
He winked at me. I wondered if he was flirting or just had something in his eye. My money was on hair spray--if he held true to his eighties ensemble. "Would you like a glass of iced tea?"
"Yes, please."
"Please make yourself at home."
I watched him exit out the door to my right and sat with my hands folded in my lap. I turned and stared at the large fireplace. Tiny pixies and fairies were embossed in it. They were all naked and each one wrapped itself around the one below it. I wondered how wise it was to be standing in a Master Vampire’s living room alone when he obviously had a thing for naked creatures of magic. I was a life-sized version of that. I gulped and rubbed my palms across my jeans, trying my best to keep the nervous sweat that was building to a minimum.
I was getting a strange vibe from this place. It felt more like home then the apartment I’d been living in for the last two years. I had been in the place for less then fifteen minutes and I already felt like I could throw my feet up on the sofa and kick back awhile. I resisted the urge to do so, and turned to stare at a wall of red drapes. I was going to go pull one back when I heard a man’s voice behind me.
"Sorry to interrupt you Ms..., but Pallo will be with you in a moment." I didn’t sense anyone in the room with me so I jumped a little. When I turned around Caradoc was standing behind me. He realized his mistake of sneaking up on me and bowed his head down. "Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you."
"No, you’re fine. I’m sorry." I felt a little silly with a man bowing in front of me so I put my hand out to him. If Sharon were with me she would have shot me dead on the spot for being careless and trusting a stranger who also happened to be a vampire. I didn’t feel that he posed any threat to me. For some reason I knew I could trust him. I let my fingers touch the top of his head and his head sprang up and he took a step back from me.
The door to my left opened and a man entered. He looked to be in his early twenties but I knew that if he was a vamp he was more likely to be in the hundreds. His hair was short and blond with pink tips. It looked as though he used gel to spike it. He was wearing black from head to toe. He had on a T-shirt, jeans, and pair of black army boots. He definitely had the James Dean look down pat. When he saw me he froze in place. Gee, I was having that effect on a lot of people lately. He opened his mouth and stood silent for a second. I didn’t want to play this game anymore.
"Pallo, I came here to speak with you regarding the hellhound homicides." My ability to be all work and no play came so easy. I expected him to start pouring his heart out about what they knew. What I got instead was his face looking even more shocked.
"Christ, Caradoc, she thinks I’m Pallo. What the hell’s going on here? If anyone should remember him, it’s her," he said, his voice thick with a British accent as he pointed at me.
Shoot. I thought that had to be the head guy--guess I was wrong. That didn’t happen too often, so I was feeling a bit nervous. I usually just knew things that other people didn’t. It had always proved to be an asset until about thirty seconds ago. I wanted to question him about my knowing Mr. Pallo, but changed my mind.
Caradoc stepped forward. I could tell he didn’t want to touch me, and that was just fine by me. "I’m sorry Ms. Stevens." He put a lot of emphasis on my name and was staring hard at the James Dean-looking vamp.
"This is Jameson. Master Pallo will be with us momentarily."
Jameson, James Dean? I shrugged and laughed in my head at the irony. Jameson approached me with speed that no human could posses and extended his hand to me.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Stevens." With the amount of attention they were giving my name, I had started to wonder if they thought it was an alias.
"Nice to meet you too, Jameson." His hand was cool to the touch. I pulled mine away slowly.
"James. I go by James." He smiled wide at me and I saw no fangs. I had never met a vampire in person before. I always assumed they walked around with these huge fangs showing. Guess I was wrong.
"Can either of you fine gentlemen tell me where Pallo is? I would love to spend another hour getting stared at like a circus freak, but a girl’s got to get her beauty sleep you know. So, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can someone find Pallo or Mr. Pallo for me?" I turned to face Caradoc. I could sense that between the two he was higher up on the seniority ladder, but I wasn’t sure by how much.
"He cannot help you find him, but I’m sure I can." The voice ran over the room and covered my body. It was familiar to me. I turned, expecting to see someone I knew.
A man walked out from behind James. He was around six foot tall and had a head of loose brown curls that hung almost to his shoulders. Normally, I think only men in rock bands should have long hair, but after tonight, I was willing to make a few exceptions.
This guy was leaking sexuality. Prior to this meeting, I hadn’t known that was even possible. His face looked as though chiseled from stone. His pale skin had only the faintest hint of coloring. He had a strong chin with a small dimple in it, and his lips were full and looked soft, kissable.
I let my gaze slowly fall down his body. He wore no shirt. His shoulders were broad, and from where I stood it looked as though tiny freckles covered them. Muscles rippled down his stomach, forcing my eyes lower. My gaze slid down his smooth hairless chest to his midriff. He was wearing a loose pair of black pants.
God, could it get any better than this? They looked to be pajama bottoms, but I wasn’t sure. I was too busy staring at the way his chest went from being completely bare to the start of tiny black hairs from his navel area down. He was wearing his waistband extremely low and I was positive he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
I looked down to the floor and saw that he was barefoot. I did a quick second look at his body as I retraced my steps back to his beautiful face. The most intense pair of crisp, dark brown--almost black eyes were looking at me, wide. When I was finished mentally undressing him, I noticed the look on his face. Gee, what a shocker. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
"Would you guys please tell me if I have a huge horn sprouting from my forehead?" I was tired and I was sure it was pushing at least three in the morning.
Caradoc spoke first. "No, Ms. Stevens you’ve not sprouted a horn as of yet. Why do you ask? Is this something we should watch for?" his sincerity made me burst out into laughter. James and the mysterious tall dark and handsome vamp laughed as well.
"Everyone I’ve met so far has stood there staring at me like a deer caught in headlights. What gives? Where the hell is Mr. Pallo? I’m done for the night boys. It’s been fun, but I really must be going now."
"I am Mr. Pallo." The drop dead gorgeous one said. "Pallo is fine. I am sorry if we’ve upset you, but you remind us of someone we once knew." He tossed his hair out of his face with his hand and stepped toward me. "My apologies for looking like I just rolled out of bed, but I have been sparring in the gym. I wasn’t expecting any visitors."
When Ken told me that I was going to see a guy named Pallo, I pictured a six hundred year old vampire who still spoke like he was in the Old World. Pall
o didn’t seem much into using contractions, but his English was perfect.
"I’d have thought that Lydia would’ve told you I was coming. She phoned and requested that someone be sent down immediately to speak with you. Two others were supposed...." I didn’t finish my last sentence I wasn’t sure it was wise to spill the beans about being here completely alone with no sign of back-up coming. My patience level was growing very thin. The only thing that helped me keep my grip was that I was surrounded by three of the sexiest guys I’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. Did I also forget to mention the fact that they could probably kill me before I knew what hit me?
The room fell silent. I noticed Caradoc and James exchange glances. Pallo was the first to break the silence. "I have not had a chance to speak personally with Lydia in some time now. My apologies. Please stay. I’ll answer whatever I can Ms....?"
"Ms. Stevens. Thank you," I said.
"Yes, of course, Gwyneth Stevens. I have seen your name in the Nocturnal Journal recently for your office being involved in the break up of a Ghoul-fighting ring." He took a step toward me, "Most impressive indeed, Gwyneth."
This poster child for dead and doable saying my name made me want to melt, and in some ways I did. I’ve heard that vampires could persuade members of the opposite sex to fall for them with ease. Knowing this should have prepared me for the way I was starting to feel, but it didn’t.
I looked into Pallo’s sweet dark eyes. I wanted them to be looking down at me, staring at me while his body moved in and out of mine. I wanted to run my fingers through his wavy brown hair, to hold it while he brought my body to its climax. I wanted him now. I had to concentrate on not leaping across the room and straddling him. I pushed the desire down and felt how strong his pull was. Thankfully, I was stronger.
"Why are you fighting me?" Pallo asked.
"What do you mean?" I thought I’d play the dumb blond routine for a minute.
"You are trying hard not to come near me, like I mean you harm," he said. I guess the dumb blond routine doesn’t work well, especially when you’re a brunette.
"Look, no offense, but you could be a homicidal maniac for all I know. After all, you are a--" I stopped short of saying vampire.
"True. But why would such a lovely young woman come alone to a maniac’s house in the middle of the night?" he asked. He was smiling so sexy that I had to fight with myself not to jump his bones then and there. Of course, I was willing to settle for a dry hump--Nah.
"Okay, you’ve got a good point. I must be crazy to come down here with a room full of vampires anyway, so why even bother with the shenanigans?"
"The shenanigans you refer to were merely a test. I do not want any of my staff revealing information to someone not associated with the likes of us."
I was well beyond the point of feeling the need to be polite. "Well, I’m so happy that I passed your little Club Bloodsuckers initiation test, but I would really like--"
His hand came up suddenly, motioning me to stop. Surprisingly enough, I did. He must have thought my last comment was amusing because he started to laugh. It was quite possibly the most perfect laugh I’ve ever heard.
"Well I’m so happy to be your entertainment for the evening, thank you, and good-bye!"
I started toward the door. Pallo stepped in my path. Under normal circumstances a vampire standing in front of me would scare the hell out of me. This time it just pissed me off.
He stepped close enough for me to touch, put his hand out and brushed mine. I flinched a little. Even though I had mentally psyched myself up for meeting vampires, I couldn’t bring myself to not be scared of what they could do.
I started to pull back, but his touch felt familiar to me. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. His lips were soft. I let my protective magic fall. Warmth flowed over my body. Suddenly, my insides felt like a thousand tiny fingers were moving throughout me--caressing me. Pallo’s hands never left mine, yet I could have sworn that he’d just rubbed my most vulnerable spot. I gasped and felt my body react to him. Damp, and breathless, I felt my hair lifted up and I saw his do the same. I yanked my hand back, as if I’d been scorched.
"Nice to meet you too," he said. He was grinning at me. He planned that.
I smiled back, trying to look nonchalant, as if this sort of thing happened often. "Do you do that to all the ladies?"
He leaned in so close that I thought he was smelling my neck, or worse yet, about to bite it. I put my hands up and touched his chin. His skin was so smooth. Ken had always had a five o’clock shadow by ten in the morning. This guy was like touching a porcelain doll’s face. I felt his breath on my neck. I wasn’t sure my legs were going to hold out if he got much closer.
"I only do that to the pretty ones. And in my two hundred and seventy-five years on this earth I have only met two worthy of that show," he whispered.
I gave his chin a little push, and he stepped back.
"Can we just get down to business?" I asked, faking annoyance, but wanting another hair-raising experience. Who wouldn’t?
"I will get down whenever or wherever you would like."
I felt my heart skip a beat. I was so mad at myself. I was letting this two hundred and seventy-five-year-old corpse smooth talk me. But God, he was a good-looking corpse. I walked up to him. Two could play that game. I slid my hand across his chest. I really hoped this plan didn’t backfire. If it did I would end up dead--so what the hell.
I like to think of myself as being fairly attractive, and if he insisted on playing the Mr. Sexy game, I’d play along and then get the hell out of there. I knew before my fingers touched him that he had two tiny scars under his right nipple. This did not surprise me. I figured I could have caught a glimpse of them--he did have his shirt off after all. But I knew how he had gotten them.
"Been avoiding picking fights with sailors I hope?" Words came into my head and I heard them fall from my lips. I was used to getting random visions of events in peoples lives, but this was different. No vision had come to me. I just knew this to be true. I couldn’t explain it. I pulled my hand away from him quickly, completely freaked out.
He looked at me a little shocked, then smiled. I was starting to really like that devilish grin. "Yes, I learned my lesson."
"A punctured lung will do that to you." I grabbed my mouth. For some reason, in my head, I thought this would solve my problem.
Pallo leaned into me--his lips brushed the back of my hand. My knees were getting weaker. Six months without sex was starting to take its toll on me. "Yes, one can learn almost any lesson if pain is involved." His deep voice moved over me, around me, through me.
Oh, he was good!
He shrugged and smiled. He definitely knew something I didn’t, and he wasn’t about to let on to what it was. The cocky routine was starting to get to me. I was flirtatious by nature, but this was getting on my nerves. I wanted to ask about the hellhounds and go. I wanted to leave this place and never look back. I wanted to run my hand over his chest again. Hey, cut a girl some slack--it’s not all that often that the poster boy for every woman’s deepest sexual desire takes an interest in you. The desire won out. I felt his smooth chest one last time and stepped back.
Pallo’s hand reached out and touched my hip. I pushed it away lightly, unsure who I trusted less, him or me. He smelled good enough to eat and that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to swallow him up. Problem was, I knew what this guy was, and he would think of me as the main course.
Nevertheless, I wanted to know how it felt to have his body pressing against mine. I could feel his lust for me as well. I knew he was thinking of more than just pressing himself against me. I could see it in the way he smiled at me and in the way he moved near me. His movements were like ripples in water, so smooth, so sure of where they are going, so full of purpose, so making me horny.
I shook my head and cleared my naughty little schoolgirl thoughts. "I’m sorry, but I really just wanted to get some information in regards to some he
llhound related incidents that we’ve had recently."
That a girl--keep focused on work and not on Pallo’s glorious body.
He smiled at me, and I could tell that he wanted to pursue this newfound attraction more, but then he spoke and had apparently decided against it. "What is it that you want to know?"
I was shocked. He was going to give me some answers. "Well, for starters, do you know where we can find the Keeper of the Hounds? He has managed to elude us so far."
I caught James giving Pallo an odd look out of the corner of my eye but decided to ignore it. Pallo’s head fell back slightly and he began to laugh. The sound of his laugh wrapped around my body and made me tingle in places that I didn’t even know I had. I shuddered and fought to maintain control. "I’m sorry Pallo but I really don’t see how people being slaughtered by some crazy guy and his puppy slackies is amusing."
He looked at me and grew quiet. "I am sorry. It’s just that you seem very confident that the Keeper is male. Are we really that destructive that you would automatically assume it was our doing?"
"I’m lost--you mean as a vampire or as a guy?"
"I am referring to men in general, Ms. Stevens."
"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I really don’t have a low opinion of men. I’m not one of those women who run around all day male-bashing. I think they’re just great. I’m just going off of the information I was given, and sources on the street are saying male, so that’s what I’m sticking with." My tone was definitely harsher than I had wanted it to be, but I was exhausted.
Pallo looked very smug and sure of himself. He kept pushing a strand of his curly hair behind his left ear. "Your informants are wrong, and I would be very reluctant to listen to them further."
As great as that sounded, the reality was that informants were getting harder and harder for the PR Dept. to come by. They were disappearing left and right, never to be heard from again. The few that Ken had left would have to do, simply because there were no others to turn to. I got the sense that Pallo picked up on this, because he motioned for James and started to speak to me. "Come here tomorrow at dusk and I will tell you more about the Keeper of the Hounds".
Misfit in Middle America Page 5
