BloodlustandMetal

by Lisa Carlisle

  I opened the back door and she screamed. “Who are you? Let me out of here! Help!” She extended her fangs and lunged forward to bite me.

  I taped her mouth shut with the duct tape and then wrapped some around her wrists to fortify the restraints. Her purse had fallen off her shoulder, dangling down her arm but not falling off due to the restraints. I unzipped it and pulled out her cell phone, stashing it in my pocket. She thrashed around in the backseat, kicking her combat boots my way. Seeing her writhing around like that excited me in more ways than I wanted to admit.

  “Stop that or I’ll throw you in the trunk. And I warn you, I have plenty of silver back there.”

  She stopped thrashing, panting wildly and spewing hatred from her eyes. They blazed red around the brown pupils now, the vampire in her clearly furious.

  “The calmer you are, the easier this will be for everyone. Especially you.”

  She looked around the streets for someone to see her predicament and come to her rescue.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. But a job’s a job.”

  I took one pair of handcuffs and fastened one restrained wrist to a handle on the back door. Then I took another pair and tried to fasten them around her ankles. Her combat boots were too bulky so I used the duct tape to hold them together.

  Before I climbed out of the backseat, I caught her eyes. In the blazing look she gave me, I imagined she was plotting how to kill me and get away.

  Chapter Three

  Joey

  Angelica was going to be pissed when I went looking for her because she said she’d be right back. But minutes had passed. How long did that mean anyway? When you told someone you’d be right back, you’d figure a few minutes, right?

  I tapped my foot, trying to be patient, but kept checking the time. I tried to distract myself by scanning the club. Whoever designed this place had a thing for gargoyles. Not that I had a problem with that. It was better decor than the club in Boston I used to go to where they used fake rats as decorations.

  A few more minutes passed. Enough, I’d waited long enough. When Studley asked, “Where you goin’?” I ignored him. He’d give me shit if I told him. I had to go and make sure she was all right.

  On the way out, I asked the bouncer, “Did you see our singer come back in?”

  “Who’s the singer? We have lots of bands playing these days.”

  “A woman. Totally hot. Black hair on one side, white on the other, and all kinds of stripes thrown in. She was wearing a little white lacy dress. And combat boots.”

  I was hoping by being that specific, it would ring a bell. A lot of women wearing tiny outfits and having outrageous hairstyles tonight so whether it would jolt anything might be a long shot.

  “Oh yeah, the stripes in her hair. Some of these women do some crazy shit…” His voice trailed off.

  “Well? Did you see her come back in?”

  He grasped his chin and looked off at the front door. “She left with a guy, I think. Big guy. Lots of tattoos. They said they’d be right back so I stamped their hands.”

  “So did they? Come right back?”

  “Nah. I don’t think so.” He looked at his watch. “It wasn’t that long ago now that I think about it. They’ll probably be back soon.”

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, rushing to the door.

  “You need a stamp,” he called after me.

  “I’m in the goddamn band tonight,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” I pushed out the door and looked from left to right. A couple of smokers to my right, but no signs of them.

  “Have you seen a woman with black-and-white hair walk by?”

  “No. Just got out here, man,” one of the smokers said.

  I tried not to run as I hustled down the pavement along the buildings. Which way had they gone?

  A sleek black Nissan drove by and although the windows were dark, I caught the eye of the driver. It was that guy she’d left with. At least he was alone as she wasn’t in the passenger seat. I hated the thought of her going home with him. He looked away and sped up. I hope she told him to fuck off.

  I must have gone in the wrong direction and missed Angelica on her way back to the club. Feeling somewhat foolish, I trekked back to Vamps. If anyone asked me where I’d been, I would say I went out for air.

  Back inside, the bouncer said, “No luck?”

  My face must have dropped at the same moment every muscle in my body tensed up.

  “She didn’t come back?” I asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Where the fuck was she? I walked outside again and pulled out my cell phone. I hesitated for another second, knowing she’d give me a hard time for keeping tabs on her again, but I didn’t care. I called her.

  Her phone rang and rang. Why wasn’t she answering? After several more rings, it went into her voice mail.

  “Hi, this is Angelica. You know what to do.”

  “Hey, Angelica, it’s me, Joey. Call me when you get this.”

  Layla

  Sonovabitch!

  Who the fuck was this guy and what did he want with me?

  My mind flickered over various options: rape, murder, kidnapping, extortion, robbery, blackmail, torture… Since he bound me with silver, did he know I was a vampire? Was he one of those freaks on a quest to stamp out all nonhumans?

  When I heard my cell phone ring, I perked up. Someone was calling me. Then I realized I had no way of getting it, my mouth was taped shut.

  “You’re not going to need this anymore,” he said, pulling over to the side of the road.

  I maneuvered my body up for a second, straining against the restraints, to see where he’d parked. We appeared to be near a seawall.

  I tried to ask, “What are you doing?” but with my mouth taped, my sentence resulted in an indecipherable mumble.

  No, don’t throw it in.

  He stepped out of the car and out of the corner of my eye I caught the throwing movement of his arm. I listened to hear the sound of the phone hitting the ocean, but never heard a thing. A tiny phone into an enormous ocean—it probably wouldn’t even register a sound.

  He climbed back into the driver’s seat and drove again.

  Where the fuck is he taking me?

  I tried to focus on landmarks, road signs, anything that would help me figure out where we were. At my angle lying down, it was difficult to make out much in the darkness of the night.

  Night. It was still dark, but how much time did we have left before the dawn? The sun would burn me. Kill me as effectively as a stake through the heart. I’d never seen what happened to a vampire who faced sunlight, but imagined the pain involved in burning to death was not a good way to go.

  Did we burst into flames? Or was it a slow, agonizing smolder from within, burning the vampire from the inside out?

  Was there even a body left once the sun had done its job? Maybe a pile of ashes? Or did the vampire disappear from existence?

  My heart was racing and my breathing was more erratic as I pictured a vampire’s destruction—possibly my own destruction. I had to focus on something other than my inevitable fiery end by the sun if we didn’t seek cover soon. More questions about my captor came up. Why had he kidnapped me? He hated vampires and wanted me to perish in the sun?

  An image of my burning body entered my mind again and I forced it out before I had a full-blown panic attack.

  Or did he think I was human and he took me for some other purpose? If so, how could I warn him about the sun before it was too late for me? I thrashed around on the backseat trying to get his attention.

  “You’re just wasting energy,” he said. “You can move all you want back there, but it’s not going to help you escape.”

  Fuck him. I thrashed around again, more out of frustration than anything else. He was right, I was bound so tightly I couldn’t get out. A vampire stronger than I might be able to break through this, but then again, there was something draining me of my strength, making me feel weak.

  He must have
used silver, that was the only thing I could imagine that would have this effect on my strength. If so, where was it? I looked around, but then he spoke.

  “Sweetheart,” he said. “I know you’re wondering what the fuck is going on and I’ll tell you in a minute. But you need to stop going crazy back there. It’s not going to help your situation.”

  “Fuck you!” I tried to say, but once again, it came out more of a moan than actual words.

  I caught a sign for Boston, which meant we were heading south. It looked like we were headed for the highway.

  “I know what you are. You’re a vampire and if I don’t get you under cover before sunrise, your hot little body will be fried to a messy crisp come dawn. Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen. I’m not here to murder you and I’m not here to rape you or anything like that. What I am going to do is bring you back to the person who hired me.”

  Who the fuck would hire someone to bring me back?

  Before I finished the sentence in my head, the answer was clear. The vampire whom I was hiding from. The one who thought I had stolen from him. The one whose bodyguards, Lee and Garrett, warned me to run before he found me. Because he didn’t wait for excuses and he’d kill me before I even had a chance to proclaim my innocence.

  Stefano.

  “You stole a lot of money from a vampire who isn’t very forgiving,” Devon said. If that was even his name. “And he paid me a lot of money to bring you back to him.”

  He didn’t say anything for another minute or two. “Here’s a good spot.” I didn’t know if he was talking to me or to himself. I looked out the windows, but didn’t see anything besides trees and darkness.

  Where the hell are we?

  He stopped the car and turned back to face me. “If you tell me where Stefano’s painting is, it will make this trip a lot easier for you. I know you sold it by now. I could tell Stefano that I not only have you, but the money. Maybe he will be in a better mood by the time we arrive in London.”

  He got out of the car and opened the back door. Then he tore the tape off my mouth and said, “Tell me where it is.”

  With the freedom to speak again, I unleashed all my questions and terror and explanations.

  “I don’t have the money. I didn’t take the painting. Who the fuck are you and where are you taking me? Take this shit off me and let me get out of this fucking car!”

  “One more chance,” he said. “Where’s the money?”

  “Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit!”

  He laughed and tried to put the tape on my mouth again. I squirmed and attempted to bite his hands, but couldn’t get a grip on him. My fangs grew and he said, “Get those nasty things away from me.” He covered my mouth with the tape despite me moving my head frantically to avoid it.

  He left my line of vision and then I heard him open the trunk. I tried to see what he was doing, but could only see the open trunk door. After he slammed it shut, he came to the backseat again, this time with a needle in this hand.

  I scrambled frantically to get away, which was useless.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. But I need you docile for the journey.” He stuck the needle into my arm and I tried to scream. “Hey, it’ll actually be better for you. You get to sleep the whole way.”

  I looked at him with eyes blazing with fury. The world was growing darker and I was suddenly so tired.

  When I get the chance, I’m going to kill this guy with my bare hands!

  No, I’ll suck every last drop of blood out of him until he falls dead to the floor.

  Then the drug took its hold on me. Whatever it was had to specially created for vampires since most drugs didn’t have any effect on us. Then I was dead to the world.

  Joey

  Back in Vamps, I found the guys. “You haven’t seen Layla, have you?”

  “She was around earlier. She’s probably around here somewhere,” Mark said.

  “No. She went outside to talk with that guy, the one I warned her about in the van yesterday. He came back tonight.”

  “So they’re probably talking,” Rocco said. Then he turned to Mark and in an exaggerated whisper said, “Code word for banging against the side of the building.”

  Mark laughed. “Those are my favorite kinds of conversations. Hmm, I’m feeling kind of talkative right now. Let me see if there’s a fine-ass chick here who looks like she’d be a good conversationalist.”

  “This is serious,” I said. “I went outside to make sure she was okay and—”

  “Oh come on,” Mark said. “You know she’s gonna freak when she hears you’re following her around like that.”

  “Man, you two need to bang to get it over with. Get it out of your system,” Mark said. “Or you need to give up this obsession you have with her.”

  “I’m not obsessed with her!” I said, sounding defensive even to myself. “Stop interrupting me. I went outside and I didn’t see her. But I saw that guy driving away. Alone. And when I asked the bouncer if Angelica had come back in, he said no.”

  “She probably went to get some air.”

  “She didn’t answer her cell phone.”

  Rocco coughed to cover him saying “stalker”.

  “Shut up, Rocco. Obviously something’s up. She’s in trouble.”

  “How is that obvious?” Mark said. “She went for a walk to be alone and get a breather after a show. She sees you calling—harassing her—just when she’s trying to get away from everyone. So she doesn’t answer the phone.”

  Was I really that bad? So much of a bother that she’d ignore my calls?

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said.

  “Have a beer and relax, dude. You’re all hopped up after the show.”

  I ordered a beer from the gorgeous bartender with pink hair.

  Rocco leaned in to whisper to me while she went to get my drink. “The best outlet for all that excess energy is getting laid.” He nodded to the bartender. “She looks like the perfect cure for any ailment.”

  As she returned with my beer, I smiled. “Thanks, doll. What’s your name?”

  Maybe the guys were right. I should relax, have a beer and find a hot body to warm my bed tonight. Ooh, she had nice tits…

  “It isn’t doll,” she said without smiling and dashed off to take care of another customer.

  So maybe she wouldn’t be the one. I surveyed the bar area and the dance floor. Most of the women who had surrounded us after the set were now out there dancing.

  “Scoping the goods?” Mark said.

  “Might as well,” I replied. “It doesn’t do me much good worrying about someone who clearly doesn’t want me meddling in her life.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Rocco said, patting me on the back.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I checked my phone to see if I’d missed a return call from Angelica. No calls. I forced her out of my mind and focused on the women in the club.

  Devon

  I drove us to a hangar where Stefano had arranged for our transportation back to London. He had to have big money and connections to coordinate this trip. Especially on a jet designed for vampires. All sunlight was kept out of the passenger area to allow for a safe passage by day.

  “I’m Devon St. Clair. I have the prisoner as Mr. Napoli directed.”

  If the pilot was surprised to see me bring a woman bound and unconscious onto the jet, he didn’t show it.

  “Welcome aboard, Mr. St. Clair. I’m Patrick Bentley. We’ve taken care of all the arrangements for a hassle-free journey.”

  * * * * *

  Daylight was approaching. When I called Stefano to tell him we’d arrived in London, he was pleased, but told us to take cover until sunset. He lived over an hour away and slept through the day. “I’ll expect you here tonight.”

  I took Layla to my flat in London, grumbling that I’d have to be stuck with a vampire in my place throughout the day. I carried her over to my bed since I didn’t have a guest room here. No need, I didn
’t have overnight guests. Unless they were sleeping in my bed.

  Even as dead weight in my arms, she felt so light, like carrying a child. When I placed her on my bed, I couldn’t resist inhaling her scent. I thought vampires would smell of death and decay, but she smelled like flowers. I picked up that floral scent again, which reminded me of lilacs. Was it coming from her hair or her body? I lifted a lock of her hair. It was soft, like silk. Then I bent forward to sniff it, but she muttered something in her sleep and rolled, startling me so I jumped away from the bed.

  That was close.

  A distressed look came over her face and she muttered something that I couldn’t make out. The next word was clear—“No,” she called over and over. “No, no, no.”

  “Shh,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” I sat down on the bed next to her and ran my fingers soothingly over her face before realizing what I was doing. Her white skin was so soft, like the petals of a delicate flower. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that I shouldn’t care about her, but I couldn’t resist touching her cheek.

  She stopped crying out and the knotted expression gave way to a more peaceful one. Reluctantly I pulled my fingers off her and climbed off the bed, fighting a growing urge inside me to lie down next to her and pull her into my arms. Protect her from whatever it was causing her such anguish. But I remained standing next to the bed, monitoring her. Within a minute or two, her breathing deepened as she sank back into a deep sleep.

  What was she upset about? Was she having a nightmare? Was it triggered by me touching her hair? I hated seeing her like that, in such anguish.

  I sat down in the armchair in my bedroom that I’d never had a use for until now. Minutes passed as I watched her sleep, waiting to see if she’d cry out again. She still wore that lacy, white baby doll dress that captured my attention when she sang last night. Had it only been a night? With all the miles and the ocean we had put between the club in the United States and London, it seemed like many more hours had passed.

  Jetlag, time change, yeah, that had to explain it.

  Her dress had ridden up enough to expose part of her white thigh. I pictured myself going over there and touching her leg, traveling up to explore…