by J. K. Beck
The girl went, but not Alexis. She remained, gun raised, watching the vampire named Sergius with dread mixed with fascination. Had he done the same with the teen from the beach? Come close to feeding off her and then let her go? Or had he succumbed, drawing in her blood and letting her languish in his arms?
She stayed that way for an eternity—watching him, her finger on the trigger, unmoving, but ready to fire. His face was subtly illuminated by the dim light. And he looked so overwhelmed with sadness, it made her heart twist and she had to fight the inexplicable urge to go to him. To hold him and comfort him.
No. What the hell was she thinking? He was a vampire. According to Edgar, he was damn dangerous. And even if he had let the girl go—even if he had saved the teenager—she had no business pitying him. Resolved, she gripped the gun more firmly, as if it were the physical manifestation of her determination.
“Do it, then.” His voice, rough and anguished, filled the space between them. To her horror, she realized that she’d moved out from behind the pillar, and that she stood directly in his line of sight. “Go ahead,” he repeated, pushing himself to his feet and spreading his arms wide, baring his chest like a target. “Dammit, Alexis, do it.”
She dropped her gun arm. For a moment, he only stared at her. Then his lip curled into a sneer that didn’t quite meet those warm, gray eyes. “You’re a fool,” he said, then turned his back to her.
Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she was certain he could hear it. But despite her fear, she wasn’t about to let this be over. She took a step toward him, then another. She paused about five feet away, knowing damn well he could close the distance between them in the blink of an eye. “I probably am,” she admitted.
“You call yourself a hunter? A noble human who takes out the vampires who scurry in the dark?” He turned to face her, and what she saw in his eyes this time scared her. But it wasn’t fear for herself, it was for him, and once again she found herself fighting the urge to reach out to him. “Well, I’m a vampire. I’ve killed. I’ve destroyed. I’ve walked the earth for longer than you can imagine, and I’ve left my dark mark upon it. I am death,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I am Legion. And I am your enemy.”
He grabbed her hand and the gun, forcing a gasp from her as he pressed the muzzle against his chest, directly over his heart. “Do it,” he demanded as the air seemed to shimmer between them. “You’re a hunter, damn you, hunt.”
For what seemed like an eternity, they stood like that. Her holding the gun, him demanding with his eyes that she fire. Then she took a step backward, yanking the gun away and aiming its muzzle toward the ground.
“I’m a killer,” he said, but there was defeat in his voice.
“Prove it, and I’ll take you out in a heartbeat. But you pushed that girl away just now—did you think I didn’t see? You saved me. And you promised you were going to save the girl on the beach.”
“CeeCee,” he said, and she smiled at the name. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the teen, but somehow, the name suited her.
“Then it’s true? You didn’t harm her?”
The sound he made was full of contempt. “What is harm?”
She lifted the gun again. “Tell me where she is.”
“Is that supposed to frighten me into cooperation?”
“Please, Sergius—that’s your name, right? Please, I have to know.”
“It’s Serge,” he said. “Not Sergius, not that. Not from you.”
“From me?”
But he didn’t explain. Instead, all he said was, “She’s safe,” but there was such regret in his voice that she immediately went on alert.
“Where?”
“Safe,” he repeated.
“Show me.”
“What?”
She gestured with her gun, indicating the way out. “I said, show me.”
“Now?”
“Hell yes.” She met his eyes. “Move.”
She’d spoken firmly, and she held the gun. There could be no doubt that she was serious. And yet all he did was laugh.
“What the hell is so funny?”
“I’ll go with you if that’s what you really want, but it won’t do you any good. The second I hit the street, I’ll be dust. And good luck finding CeeCee then.”
Well, shit. She’d forgotten what time it was.
“Come back tonight,” he said. “I’ll take you to her then.”
“Tonight,” she repeated. “You expect me to believe that you’ll just be here waiting for me? I don’t think so.”
“You have an alternative proposition?”
“We wait,” she said.
“It’s not yet noon.”
“You have an appointment?”
“I don’t,” he said. “I’m completely unencumbered.” He glanced around, then brushed some dust off a pile of rocks. He sat gingerly and looked at her with eyes lit with mirth. “So,” he said, “what do you want to talk about?”
Edgar got his key in and out of his back door as fast as possible, then ushered Frank into the kitchen, grateful that Frank had driven; right then, Edgar didn’t want to be alone.
The sun had been up for hours now—it had been a bitch fighting traffic all the way from San Pedro to his house in the Valley, and even the breakfast they’d grabbed at Du-par’s hadn’t soothed his mood. He was edgy. Anxious. Hell, why beat around the bush? He was fucking scared.
Once inside, he closed the door and locked it tight. The North Hollywood house was small, and although that sometimes bothered him, today it was a comfort. The walls didn’t feel claustrophobic, they felt reassuring. This was his place, and no matter what bad stuff was outside, he could always find sanctuary here.
He tapped in the alarm code, then drew in a deep breath. Frank, he saw, was eyeing him warily.
“What?” Edgar demanded.
“You look freaked.”
“I am. This vampire—this Sergius—sounds like he’s a serious badass. And I know damn well that Alexis isn’t going to back off just because of that. She’s going to go even more balls-to-the-wall. I shouldn’t have called her. Shit. I should have waited until I could talk to her in person.”
“Calm down, Ed. The girl used to be FBI, right? I think she probably knows how to handle herself. She’s not going to go rushing into a vampire’s lair, right? I mean, you said the girl was smart.”
“She is.” But Edgar knew she was also impulsive. Still, he felt somewhat better. Alexis was eager, but she wasn’t rash. And it wasn’t as if she knew where to find the vamp during the day, anyway. For that matter, she didn’t know where to find him at night.
“So, you okay?”
“Sure,” Edgar said, although it wasn’t entirely the truth. He’d hunted vampires, true. But strolling into a bar filled with them—talking to that one behemoth of a vampire—well, it had been a heady, terrifying experience.
“All right then. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Frank’s broad grin split his face. “Un-freaking-believable, isn’t it? What did I tell you? They’re right there, knee-to-knee with us humans, and most of us don’t even know it.”
“Damn straight,” Edgar said, shooting for bravado. Truth was, he figured he’d be just as happy without that knowledge.
He keyed off the alarm and let Frank out the door they’d come in, the one that opened onto the driveway at the back of the house. He closed the door again, then pressed his forehead against the cool wood and told himself not to call Alexis again. They’d talked. She’d said she wouldn’t go out. That was enough. He wasn’t going to hover like he was her father or some such shit.
Still …
It wasn’t that long a drive to Brentwood. He could pick up some bagels on the way. Tell her he figured she might want a friendly ear. Not like he was checking in on her at all.
Resolved, he grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter where he’d tossed them and pulled open the door. The gasp escaped his mouth before his mind even processed what he was seeing. The female vam
pire from the bar, holding Frank in her arms. Frank’s head lolled to the side, his body limp, his neck ripped open.
For a moment, they just stood there, her smiling at him, and him wondering how the hell she could be outside during the day. Wasn’t she a vampire? Didn’t they eschew the sun?
Then she dropped Frank on Edgar’s front porch and started to push her way inside.
“I don’t invite you in!” he yelled, but she just laughed and kept on coming.
“Now, is that any way to treat a guest?”
He turned and bolted toward the bedroom, moving faster than he had since his days in uniform. Didn’t matter. In what appeared to be a blink of the eye, she was right there in front of him.
“Sweet,” she said. “I always like to play with my food.”
Involuntarily, his eyes darted toward the door.
“Oh, him? He was just an appetizer.” She poked him in the stomach. “You’re the main dish.”
Think. He had to act. Had to do something.
His Glock was on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. He hadn’t taken it to the bar—Frank had suggested that would be a bad idea. And the truth was he knew damn well a bullet wouldn’t hurt a vampire. But the door was wood—could he break it and get a stake?
Or maybe a chair.
With speed born of fear, he practically dove under her outstretched arm and into his bedroom. A simple wooden chair sat in front of a card table where Edgar kept his bills and checkbook. He grabbed the chair up and swung it at the wall, ending up with a broken leg in one hand. A makeshift stake with a nice sharp point.
The vampire pouted. “And here I thought we were getting along so well.”
He lunged at her, the stake out, but all she did was grab him by the wrist and twist his arm around behind him so that he cried out in pain—then screamed in anguish when the bone actually snapped.
“That’s what happens when little boys don’t play nice,” she said. “And this,” she added, sinking her fangs deep into Edgar’s neck, “is how little boys get dead.”
Alexis.
Serge sat and watched her. The way she held her chin up. The way her eyes fired with determination. The scent of her filled the tunnel, overcoming the putrid air, heavy with decay and despair.
She was hope, this woman. Hope and life, and though he’d meant it when he told her to go, he couldn’t dismiss the simple truth that he was glad she’d stayed.
He’d almost lost the battle today—almost killed a human and destroyed that tiny part of himself that didn’t fill him with disgust. He’d seen the chance for freedom when she’d pointed that gun at him. Could imagine the moment of impact when her wooden bullet lodged within his heart. Had he truly wanted that? For a moment, yes, but the moment had been fleeting because when he’d looked into her eyes he’d seen something reflected back at him that he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.
Hope, and the possibility of redemption.
God, I’m a sentimental fool.
Maybe, but that didn’t change the fact that something about this woman centered him. More than that, she gave him strength to fight the beast and the daemon. She was like a pinpoint of light cutting through the darkness of his soul.
She’d sunk to the floor, her back to a concrete pillar, her gun propped on her knees, held loosely but still at the ready. Silence hung between them, but Serge didn’t find it awkward. On the contrary, he was grateful for the chance to look at her, to memorize the small details that made her her. The slight bump on her nose. The fullness of her lips. The intelligence that lit those pale blue eyes.
Her hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and she wore threadbare jeans and a ratty T-shirt under the same serviceable jacket she’d worn when he’d first seen her. She looked like a warrior, but there was an air of easiness about her that made him think she’d look just as natural in a ball gown, and equally at ease in nothing at all.
He fought to keep the image out of his head; that was a place he had no business going, no matter how enticing the thought might be. Sex was one thing—the fast release of need, the quick dance into pleasure. But there was no future in it, not for someone like him. And this woman deserved more than a fast fuck. Her body was meant for more than base pleasure and then abandonment. And while Serge had no illusions about the depths of evil that dwelled within him, he would not defile her simply to satisfy his own base needs.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, the question making him smile. “What?” A dimple formed in her cheek. “I didn’t realize I was making a joke.”
“Just meandering thoughts. Forgive me for being a truly inadequate host.”
“A formal one, though. Talking like that, it sounds like we’re at a tea party in Jolly Olde England.”
“I’ve done that,” he said. “I much prefer this atmosphere.”
She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing as she examined him. “Bullshit.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“What are you punishing yourself for?” she asked.
He shifted uncomfortably, realizing that whatever thread of control he’d held had been tugged from his grasp. “I’m a vampire, aren’t I? You’re the hunter. Why the hell didn’t you kill me?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. You’re a vampire, and yet both times that I’ve seen you, you’ve saved someone, including me.”
“Don’t be naïve.”
“You’re saying you didn’t save me? CeeCee? That girl who just ran the hell out of here?”
“I’m saying that you’re assuming you know my motives.”
She looked hard at him, then slowly nodded. “Fair enough. So why don’t you tell me?”
A whisper of a smile touched his lips. “I don’t think so.”
Another silence. “Actually, it’s been three times.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen you three times,” she clarified. “At the crime scene you didn’t save anyone, but you were watching. And you were pissed off. Because Penny Martinez was dead?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Me, too.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “I know it’s really that vampire’s fault, but I can’t help but blame myself for that poor girl’s death.”
“His name was Mitre,” Serge said, “and he was a son-of-a-bitch. He killed the girl, make no mistake. But if anyone else is to blame, that falls on my shoulders.”
“Is that your cross to bear?” she asked. “Carrying the weight of the world?”
“I bear only what’s mine. I was there that night, too. And I wasn’t injured. I could have caught him, but I hesitated and moved too slowly. He got away, and the girl died.”
“You were there? In the alley when I fought those two?”
“I was.”
“I don’t understand. Why did you hesitate?”
Because I couldn’t leave your side. But he couldn’t tell her that. Couldn’t reveal that part of himself any more than he could risk adding more weight to the already heavy burden of her guilt. “How did you track him?”
Her brow rose. “Shifting the subject?”
“A subtle, but effective maneuver. And I truly want to know. You went after him on the beach that night. How did you find him?”
“Honestly, I didn’t know it was him. I heard about the attack on Penny Martinez—”
“You’re a cop.”
She shook her head. “Past tense.”
“I saw you flash a badge. You’re saying it’s a fake?”
“An extremely expensive, highly professional forgery, thank you very much.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I was an agent once. When I quit, I didn’t want to lose access.” An it-is-what-it-is shrug tugged at her shoulders. “This way works for me.”
“You quit to hunt vampires.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You wanted to know how I tracked the vampire. What was his name? Mitre?”
“I do. I’m extremely
interested.” He also wanted to know the answer to his question, but that could wait. There were still hours until the sun went down, and he was enjoying her company far too much to press this early in the game.
“The truth is I didn’t know if Mitre had killed her or not. I suspected, but I was really just there to hunt whoever had killed her.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“How, you mean?” She grinned, wide and slightly flirtatious. He knew she was playing, but that smile tugged at him. Why this woman? Why now, when he was as ghastly as he’d ever been. When there was no future for him, much less for him and anybody else? “A girl has to keep some secrets.”
“The dirt,” he said, remembering the oddity of her collecting the sample. “Somehow you used the dirt to track him.”
“Aren’t you the clever vampire?”
“You’re a witch.”
“Now you’re not so clever. No, I’m not. In fact, a few years ago if you’d told me that witches and vampires existed, I would have said you were a loon.”
“And now?”
“Now I know that there’s a hell of a lot more out there that I don’t understand, and honestly I’m not sure I want to.”
“What do you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want them dead.”
“Vampires.”
Her brow furrowed, then she lifted her face so that she was looking directly at him. “It’s been my focus for a long time now.”
“And you’ve never wavered.” He made it a statement, not a question.
She drew in a breath, then stood. In four long strides she crossed the small area to him. “Why were you on the beach that night? Why were you at the crime scene?”
“The same reason as you.”
“To kill the vampires?” Incredulity laced her voice.
“The ones that attack humans, yes.”
“I see. Then there are nice, helpful vampires. You told me not to believe that.”
“I told you not to believe it about me.”
“And if I do believe it?”
He said nothing.
“Why did you help me? Why did you help CeeCee? You did help her, right?”
