A Vampire Bundle

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A Vampire Bundle Page 92

by Alexandra Ivy


  “The Circle wants something badly if they’re giving you Amber Kiss perfume. I thought the alchemists stopped making it centuries ago. It does an admirable job of hiding your scent, but your heartbeat gives away your fear.”

  Hairs on the back of my neck rising in renewed terror, I tried to quell the shakes that started up at his words. What the hell was he playing at?

  “I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this.” That sounded safe enough. Except that I really, really wasn’t sure I wanted to know where this conversation was going.

  His eyes stayed shut. He didn’t look at me at all, or speak right away, instead kept taking the occasional deep breath to, I guess, see what he could smell on me under the perfume. Talk about creepy.

  “You’re attracting the attention of vampires, The Circle, and the White Hats. You’ve managed to upset the power structure of a local Were pack. You are human, and yet you find yourself caught up with those like myself. You do it despite being afraid for yourself. It is interesting to me.”

  “And we all know how much you value that which cures your boredom, however momentarily.” The bitingly low feminine voice came from behind me, startling me so badly I had to stifle a cry.

  Royce’s eyes finally opened as he looked to the door, his expression going carefully blank. I turned in the leather chair to look and see who had come to join us.

  It was The Circle’s receptionist!

  Chapter 12

  The girl sauntered over to Royce, dropping her purse on his desk and giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek. I don’t think I could have been more stunned and horrified if she’d grown horns and a tail and started singing “New York, New York.”

  Through the shock, part of me distantly noted that the girl didn’t look quite so skinny or perfect as she had behind the desk at The Circle’s headquarters. Her hair and makeup weren’t quite so flawless. She was still pretty, but not the runway model she’d appeared to be earlier.

  My fingers itched to touch the charm around my neck, which I remembered was supposed to let me see through illusion. I suppressed the urge with difficulty and kept my hands primly folded in my lap. Seeing the girl this way made me wonder what Veronica must look like under the veneer of magic.

  “Ms. Waynest, this is Allison Darling. I believe you’ve met.” Royce’s voice couldn’t have been more carefully noncommittal and disinterested. Was that for my sake or hers?

  Though I would rather have stuck my fingers in an electric socket after how she treated me earlier, I leaned forward across the desk to offer her my hand. As long as Royce was here to referee (imagine that), I’d play nice. She waited longer than was strictly polite before offering me her limp-wristed shake.

  “I can’t stay long,” Allison said to Royce, leaning against his chair with an arm casually flung around his shoulder. As she spoke, her bright blue eyes were locked on mine, glinting with malice behind those trendy glasses. “I thought you’d want to know that she was given the hunter’s belt today.”

  Royce arched a brow in surprise, turning to look up at Allison questioningly. She shrugged and nodded, and I noted with growing alarm the almost imperceptible shift in the air as anger stirred below the frighteningly blank mask of his features.

  “Allison, love, go on back to the restaurant. Let me finish my business here and I’ll speak with you later.” His voice had taken on a dangerously silky undertone, a promise of something unspoken. What worried me most was that I couldn’t tell if it was me or her that he was mad at, and what exactly he was planning to do if it was me.

  She shrugged, uncaring, as if this happened all the time. Acting like she had all the time in the world, she lightly patted his shoulder, picked up her purse, and made a hip-swaying exit. I watched her go, still in a state of shock trying to figure out the convolutions and consequences behind whatever this relationship of theirs was. The look she threw him over her shoulder at the door was unbelievable, a mix of warning and what looked like lust. I sincerely hoped it wasn’t really some of the latter. Gross.

  “Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she purred.

  Didn’t she realize she was provoking an already pissed-off vamp? Probably doing it on purpose, knowing she was leaving me to deal with it.

  Tense and unblinking, I shifted around in the chair to face Royce. He stayed silent and unmoving until the muted sound of Allison’s heels on the carpet faded and the front door of the office suite opened and closed. When I say he was unmoving, I mean no twitches, no fidgeting, no breathing, still as a stone. It was creepy as hell. His pitch black gaze soon slid back to focus on me, and I felt myself contract, as if I could disappear into the leather chair if I pressed against it hard enough.

  “My, my. The facets of your personality become more and more complex with each passing moment.” His tones stayed dangerously soft, thoughtful, and contained a hint of that promising lilt. I was so dead. “You have not yet made any overt moves against me. You are smart enough to be afraid of me, but beyond stupid to think you could take on an assignment as my assassin and survive the attempt. What is driving you? Your family line has no history of mage blood, so it can’t be the carrot of an apprenticeship with The Circle. You don’t have any known ties to the White Hats. Is it a threat on someone you love? Greed, perhaps?”

  I went cold at that. He’d researched my bloodline? Oh no, if this went bad, that meant he knew where to find my family. It took quite a long moment for me to find enough of my voice to speak.

  “It isn’t like that. I didn’t want the belt. He made me take it. I didn’t take a contract on your life.”

  He said nothing, simply stared in silent accusation. I could feel the anger building under the veneer, and it made me feel even more panicked than if he’d dived across the desk for my throat.

  I plunged ahead, heedless of what the cost might be. Screw my license, and screw the contract. I wanted to live. I’d figure out some other way to pay my rent and keep all my creditors from camping on the landing—my life wasn’t worth this kind of trouble for a few thousand dollars.

  “I swear, I never agreed to hunt you. All I agreed to do was help find some little statue thing.” If anything, his anger seemed to grow at the mention of the artifact. I knew I was babbling, but I was scared out of my mind. “I need the money or my business is going to go under. Please, don’t be angry with me, I swear I never meant to do anything more than this job and then leave you alone.”

  He rose slowly, unfolding from the chair like some great predatory bird preparing to dive down on its prey. I shrank back even further as he came around the desk, slowly and deliberately setting his hands on the arms of my chair and leaning forward right into my face. Both of my hands involuntarily came up to shield my neck as I slid back in the chair. My knees drew up to my chest as he glared down at me, my mouth dropping open and eyes wide in shock and fear. His breath, when he finally spoke, smelled like a mix of mint and copper, cloying and chokingly thick.

  “I am buying out that contract. Whatever they offered, I’ll triple it. With a few added conditions, in case you’re thinking of running back to The Circle.”

  I didn’t know what I could say without making him even angrier. From the sound of it, I wouldn’t have a choice in the matter. A hint of fully extended fang behind his lips was even more reason to keep my mouth shut until he said what he had to say and, hopefully, calmed down.

  “One—you’re to turn over the hunter’s belt to me. You may keep the Amber Kiss, and whatever else they gave you. Two, you are to end all contact with The Circle except to tell them that your contract with them is null. Direct any questions on why to me. Three, you may not speak of the focus to anyone other than myself. That includes your business partner.”

  This didn’t sound so bad. He stared down at me expectantly, like he was waiting for something. I belatedly figured out that he was waiting for an acknowledgment, so I stammered one out. “Oh—okay. I can do all that.”

  He pulled back from the chair. In
stead of aggressively standing right over me, he aggressively folded his arms and stared down at me from a few feet away, leaning back against the desk. It looked like his anger was abating but not entirely gone. Not gone enough for me to feel comfortable about removing my hands from my throat or putting my feet back on the floor. His eyes were narrowed, black pits boring into me, keeping me pinned in place with their intensity.

  “One last thing. To ensure your loyalty, you’re to sign papers by the end of the next business day. I want a notarized copy in my hands by no later than Monday night.”

  A sudden sick feeling swept over me. I could literally feel all the blood drain from my face.

  “P-p-papers?”

  He nodded tersely, his gaze staying sharp and pitiless. “I won’t have you turning back to The Circle or the White Hats for help. You’re mine now. The Circle can’t touch you if I lay a claim, and the White Hats won’t come near you if you bear my mark. Your partner may want to consider doing the same.”

  Bear his mark. His bite, he meant. Oh shit.

  “By Monday, Shiarra. If you don’t deliver them, I’ll come looking. Trust me, you don’t want it to come to that.”

  “No, please!” I had to fight this. I couldn’t let it come to that. Death would be better. “Please, you don’t need to do that, I won’t go back to them! I swear!”

  He actually laughed at that, the sound soft and bitter. “Begging is in poor taste, lovely. You should’ve thought of that before you stepped outside the bounds of your confidentiality agreement. You broke under pressure. Right now, your promises are just words. The claim will ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

  He wasn’t just talking a little love bite. He meant a full-fledged bond, tying me to him until my death. Bloody hell. There had to be a way out of this. There just had to be. Panic was making me feel ill, and I was afraid I might end up losing my lunch on his nice, clean tennis shoes if I didn’t find a way out of this, fast.

  “It doesn’t need to come to that, please. You don’t need to do this. Give me a chance, I’ll prove it to you somehow.”

  “I’ll be in this office Monday night. Meet me here.”

  Strain made my voice crack. “Please!”

  He shook his head, unmoved by my pleas. Pushing off the desk, he moved around it and pulled out one of the drawers. He thumbed through some folders, finally withdrawing papers from one and returning to press them into my trembling hands.

  “This is for your protection as well as mine. Come on now, I’ll have someone take you home.”

  I jerked back from his touch when he reached for me, and he withdrew, waiting patiently for me to rise on my own. The thing that bugged me most was that he now seemed so bored with the situation. It was like the anger never existed. Like he’d planned this from the start, knowing I’d break.

  When I looked at the papers he’d put in my hand, my stomach gave a sickening lurch as I saw they were already filled out with both our names in all the right places. I flipped to the last couple of pages and saw that the part for the vamp to sign had already been filled out and notarized earlier today. All that was left was for me to sign on the dotted line and get my portion of the agreement notarized.

  Damn him to hell, he’d known I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool if he got in my face or flashed his fangs, and he used that fear to put me in this position. This wasn’t a burden to him; he’d wanted to put me under his thumb from the start. No wonder he wouldn’t even consider giving me the chance to prove I could be trusted. The worst part of it was that I still wasn’t any closer to knowing why, or what he expected to get from me or use me for. Blood aside, there had to be a reason for his actions. He had too many willing donors, so he wasn’t doing this just for a chance to sink his fangs into me. There was something else he wanted out of me that he hadn’t put on the table yet. Judging by the lengths he went to and the methods he used to put me in this position, he probably wouldn’t lay it out in the open until I was bonded and didn’t have the will left to oppose him.

  I slid from the seat with as much grace as I could muster under the circumstances, grabbing my purse from the floor and turning away from him to wipe at the hot sting of tears in my eyes before they could fall. He would not see me cry. I’d disgraced myself enough already tonight.

  “Wait downstairs in the lobby. I’ll have my driver get you.”

  I kept walking, almost running to get out the door. He didn’t follow, thankfully. I’d be damned if I waited around for Royce’s driver. Forget it, I’d take a cab back to my car and then go straight to Sara’s. She’d know what to do.

  There had to be a way out of this. There just had to be.

  Chapter 13

  The security guard wasn’t at his desk when I stepped out of the elevator. I practically ran to the revolving doors, glad there was no one to witness my ineffectual palm swipes at the tears streaming down my cheeks. The cold spring wind made me shiver, and I looked around dismally for a cab. I knew I looked like crap but fortunately there were few pedestrians meandering around this time of night.

  It didn’t take long for several yellow cabs to prowl around the corner. I flagged one down and it came to a screeching halt at the curb, narrowly cutting off another driver who had seen me first and was trying unsuccessfully to cut across three lanes of traffic.

  The cabbie was a Were. I knew immediately from his faint scent of musk and the thick mat of dark hair poking out from under the sleeves of his jacket and running along the backs of his hands. The hair and the dark stubble on his chin was probably more prominent than usual, not because he hadn’t shaved, but because the full moon was less than a week away. There was also a sticker plastered to the Plexiglas between the front and back seats that I recognized as a local Were pack’s symbol, a moon with a wolf paw print in the center for the Moonwalker tribe. The back of the cab was clean, but there was an undertone of cigarette smoke and fast food that clung to the interior, mingling with his musky scent in a way that wasn’t doing my already queasy stomach any favors.

  “Where to?” he growled, twisting in the driver’s seat to look back at me.

  I gave him the cross-streets where I’d parked and turned my gaze to the window, rolling it down a crack to see if the fresh air might help settle my nerves a little. The cabbie pulled out with a glance at me through the rearview mirror. I pointedly ignored his questioning looks. I’m sure I looked terrible, makeup smeared, eyes red, and mascara running from my crying.

  “She’s not worth it,” the guy said, startling me.

  “What?”

  “I said, she’s not worth it. Whoever made you cry. Move on.”

  Oh great. He thought I’d just had a bad breakup. Better yet, a bad breakup with a girl. For whatever reason, that started up the tears again.

  Taking a few deep breaths to avoid having my voice crack, I managed to say, “It’s a bad business deal, not a relationship.”

  “Yeah?”

  Great, a cab driver who thought he was a therapist. Just what the doctor ordered. For some reason, I did want to talk about it, if only to get some of the immediate weight and terror off my chest.

  “If I agree to this deal, my life is over. If I don’t, it’s still over but I’ll be dragging all of my friends and family down with me. No matter what I do, I’m screwed.”

  He nodded, his gaze sliding back and forth between the road and the mirror. After dodging an idling truck, he put a little more attention on me again.

  “Sounds rough. Pack business is like that sometimes. You either go with the flow, or you stand up to the alpha, at least take a shot at getting your way. May take a few lumps in the process, but when you look back, at least you know you tried, eh?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, choking on my tears. That was good. Comparing my screwed-up business relationships to a Were pack’s internal politics sounded just about right, the way things were going for me the last few days.

  “I’m not alpha enough to stand up to the people putting me in the midd
le of this mess. I don’t have that option.”

  The Were laughed and returned his gaze to the road, not looking back now that he was probably sure I wasn’t going to have a mental breakdown in his car.

  “Even the smallest runt in the pack can take a shot at standing up to the alpha. He may know he’s going to lose if it comes to a fight, but oftentimes it’s seeing that he’s stood up for himself and has his own teeth that makes the alpha give way.”

  That wasn’t the way I thought wolves did things in the wild, but since Weres had the intelligence of a human blended with, and usually overcoming, their wolf instincts, maybe he was right. If I showed Royce and The Circle I had teeth of my own, it was entirely possible they’d back off. I just wondered what would be threatening enough to pass for said teeth, and how I could do it convincingly without getting myself or my family killed in the process.

  “There, see, got you thinking of a solution to those worries of yours.”

  I smiled thinly, though the Were was right. He gave good advice. “Thank you. I only hope it’s as easy as you say.”

  He gave voice to a barking laugh, making my hair stand on end. “Sure it is. Even a leech will listen if you make them think the potential profit is outweighed by the trouble you give ’em.”

  I sat bolt upright, eyes widening in alarm. He still didn’t look back at me, eyes on the road like a good driver should be. I was almost sure he was grinning, judging by the tone of his voice.

  “Don’t get yer panties in a twist. I smell it on you. That and the fear-smell, and a touch of someone else’s perfume. You’re also wearing something that makes the scent of your blood and skin faint. Magework, seems like.”

  Annoyed, I sat back, folding my arms and glaring at the back of his head. “Is every Other I run into going to know I’ve been dealing with vamps and magi?”

  “Until you shower, probably.” He looked at me through the rearview, and I could see the twinkle of mirth reflecting in his eyes. “Shows you’re smart, that you’re afraid of ’em. Not afraid of me, though. Why’s that?”

 

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