BloodlustandMetal

by Lisa Carlisle

  No, Devon, stop where you’re going with that. I forced my eyes away from her thigh and traveled down her legs. She still had the boots on. I should probably remove them to make her more comfortable.

  When I was certain she was back into a deep sleep, I loosened the laces on one boot. As I unraveled them, moving down her slender calf, I tried not to think about how silky her pale skin was. Like satin. I pulled one of the boots off and a black sock. Her feet were tiny, toenails painted a pale-pink. Then I removed the other boot, trying carefully not to touch her more than necessary since the effect rattled me and I wasn’t sure why.

  I grabbed a blue-and-white quilt my grandmother had made for me and used it to cover her up. Then I sat back down and watched her sleep.

  Now that all the hair products and makeup had worn off, she had a more natural look. I was struck by how young she appeared, as if just out of college. How old was she anyway? In human years, before she changed into a vampire. I’d only heard of vampires being made, not born, so I assume that’s how she became one. How long had she been a vampire? The more I thought about her, the more questions came up. My brain was so swamped with questions about the woman in my bed and how she came to be the vampire she now was.

  How did she get mixed up with Stefano? Was he the one to turn her? If so, was she a willing participant or forced? Did he suck so much blood from her that the only way for her to continue was as the undead? Did she have a choice?

  You don’t know much about vampires. Except how to kill them.

  The bounty hunter in me reminded me to remain detached if I wanted to pull this job off successfully. That’s all you need to know. She’s a job. Plain and simple.

  I had to harden my resolve and not let this woman get to me. Only a fool would let a beautiful woman get under his skin and make him drop his guard. And in this case, it would be especially dangerous. Because the last look she had given me before she passed out was one of pure hatred.

  The woman on my bed who looked like an angel was anything but one. She was a cold-blooded vampire, one who sucked the blood out of her victims to sustain her thread to whatever form of life she had.

  I made sure she was bound tightly to the bed before I went to catch some sleep on the sofa. She should stay asleep for most of the daylight and I didn’t get much sleep on the plane. I set an alarm on my watch to wake me well before sunset though. I had to be there when she woke.

  I knew I had to sleep with one eye open. Because she would try to kill me at the first available opportunity.

  One thought struck me before I fell asleep. I thought maybe she had used some vampire charms on me in the club and that’s why she got into my head the way she did. While she was out cold from the expensive vampire sedative I had purchased from a witch in Barcelona, which had a mix of garlic and other herbs, she wasn’t able to exude any of those charms. And I was still thinking about her in ways I shouldn’t.

  Layla

  I woke up in a haze. When I tried to move, I found I was still restrained, which jolted me back to the precariousness of my situation. My arms were fastened to a bedpost, but at least my legs were free. I looked around the room to see heavy maroon drapes covering the windows, and my captor sitting in a dark-red armchair. A lamp on a small table next to him illuminated his corner of the room.

  He was watching me.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  I could speak, I realized with relief. My mouth wasn’t taped anymore.

  “You’re awake,” Devon said. “You’ve been out for hours.”

  I replied, “That should hardly be surprising to you considering you drugged me.”

  “I had to for the journey.”

  At least the look on his face did fake an expression of regret and not one of relishing the experience.

  “You’d be too difficult to transport otherwise. Besides, dawn was coming and you needed to sleep. I needed to get you under cover.”

  “How magnanimous of you. My protector,” I dragged out the last part to let the sarcasm linger. “And what do you mean journey? Where the bloody hell are we?”

  “London. We’re at my flat. We’re waiting for the sun to set so we can move.”

  “London? Not only did you kidnap me, but you took me across the damn ocean?” I pulled against the restraints, knowing full well it would be futile and he’d made sure they were effective, but I had to express my frustration somehow. I was powerless and I hated every excruciating moment of this helplessness. “How the fuck did we get over here? How long have I been out? What day is it? And what the fuck do you want from me, you goddamn psycho!”

  “Calm down, my fiery little bloodsucker, and I’ll tell you.”

  I pulled against the restraints again to make my displeasure known and then stopped moving, letting my heavy breathing slow down. And then I fixed a stare upon him with all the fury I could muster, waiting for him to give me some answers.

  “We flew here. Special arrangements that Stefano took care of. All the papers and sunlight-blocking shit that you vampires have to deal with. For immortality, you pay a pretty price, don’t you? Never being able to see the sun. Living in darkness. What good is eternal life if it’s spent in the shadows?”

  What the fuck did this guy know about anything? I never chose to become this way, I was forced. If given the choice, I don’t know what I would have picked. To live eternally and never get sick is what so many humans yearn for. Did they know it would entail living apart from your family and friends, having to watch them grow old and die, while you continued day in and day out in isolation, looking for sustenance from blood?

  I didn’t think so. They wouldn’t think about that, would they?

  Becoming a vampire sounds like a seductive option at first until you realize the reality of the life you have chosen. The unbearable thirst. The loneliness. The darkness. Eternal darkness.

  “How did you find me?” I asked. I had thought crossing the ocean to return to the States would give me a wide berth to hide. The US was huge, with many cities. How the hell did he track me to Boston?

  “I’ve been doing this for years,” he replied.

  “But how? I thought my cover was great.”

  “Kind of like hiding in plain sight?” Devon replied. “Disguised but in the public eye. Seen, but overlooked.”

  “Yes. Yes. And yes. And it worked for months until some British guy who thinks he’s a badass commando comes into my club, pretending to be a fan, and snatching me off the streets!”

  “It’s my job. And I’m good at it.” He paced in front of the bed. “So why the heavy metal band shtick?”

  I shrugged. “Who wouldn’t want to chance to be in a rock band? And besides, the opportunity came up at the right time.”

  “In London?”

  “What do you know about London?”

  “I know when you ran away from him, you ran into a rock club there.” He stopped pacing and stood facing me.

  “So. What does that prove?”

  “I tracked you crossing the ocean and coming to Boston. Then moving through the club scene, mostly where they put on rock shows.”

  Crap. And I thought it was a genius plan because I thought Stefano was so old-fashioned, he wouldn’t ever think to look in modern rock clubs. Too bad he hired this guy. “And how did you figure out who I was?”

  “Like I told you,” he said, rubbing his shaved head. “I’ve been at this a long time. I know the right questions to ask. And I nailed you down as the new singer for Bloodlust Diamond. How did you land that gig?”

  “Why do you think I’ll answer any of your questions?” I spat.

  “Why not?”

  “What kind of job involves capturing innocent people and bringing them to their death? Sounds more like a crime in itself.”

  “Everyone says they’re innocent when I find them. Few truly are.”

  “I am,” I declared, widening my eyes to up the innocence factor. “I didn’t steal anything from Stefano. I’ve been framed.”
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  He walked in a half-circle around me, opening and closing his mouth in a gabbing gesture. Then he repeated, “I’ve been framed,” in a higher pitch. “Sure, sweetheart. Like I’ve never heard that line before either. You can save the act. It doesn’t have any effect on me.”

  “It’s not a bloody act! I escaped to the US because I knew how Stefano would react. Once he makes up his mind about someone or something, there’s no changing it. Since he decided—wrongly—that I stole from him, my life was in jeopardy.”

  Why the hell am I telling him all this? I just told him I wouldn’t tell him anything. What did I care if he thought I was innocent or guilty?

  “Guess it didn’t work out for you. Since you were found.”

  “By you. If you stayed out of it, I would be fine right now.”

  “You’d be on the run. Looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. No, not life. You’re already dead.”

  “At least I’d be safe!”

  “You’d never be safe with a vampire like Stefano looking for you. His reputation is known beyond vampire circles. He is rich and powerful and has more connections than you or I could imagine.”

  “Why am I telling you anything anyway?” I pouted in frustration. Would anything work on this guy? Did he have a soft spot anywhere in him? Time to appeal to his softer side, if he had one. “Devon, if that’s your real name.”

  “It is.”

  “Devon, I beg you not to take me to him. If you do, he’ll kill me.”

  “Not my problem, sweetheart.”

  “Do you have a soul? A conscience in that big, stupid, shaved head of yours? I told you I didn’t do it. I didn’t take anything from Stefano. Whoever did it framed me to take the fall.”

  “Like I said, not my problem. If you want to explain it to anyone, explain it to Stefano. You’re wasting your words on me.”

  My thoughts raced around in my head, every bad idea aimed at this stupid, evil Devon character. “If I wasn’t restrained right now, I’d kill you. I’d drain every last drop of blood from you until your cold, dead body dropped to the floor.”

  My threat had no effect on him. Why the hell not? He knew I was a vampire. He knew I was lethal. Without the silver, I could easily overpower and kill him.

  “I’m not so easy to kill, sweetheart.” He tapped his finger on a table. “So why did you piss this big, bad vampire off anyway? What painting did you take from him that has him so riled up?”

  “I didn’t take anything.”

  “Why does he think you took it?”

  “I’m done talking to you.”

  He pulled his chair across from me, moving a foot away. “Don’t you enjoy my company?” He grinned with so much self-assurance that I wanted to wipe it off his stupid face. “If this isn’t enough fun for you, we can play a card game.”

  “Don’t antagonize me! Isn’t it bad enough that you’re sentencing me to my death?”

  “You do the crime, honey, you do the time. Or in this case, maybe you pay with your life. Vampire justice doesn’t make much sense to me. You’re all already dead anyway.”

  I had to control my temper. Losing it wasn’t going to get me out of this situation. I leaned closer to Devon and caught his eyes, trying to impart my will upon him. “Devon, if you listen to my side of the story, I’m sure you’d see things differently.” I didn’t blink as mind control required total concentration. If I blinked, I’d break the connection between us.

  “Are you trying to entrance me, Layla? If so, you’re wasting your time. Can’t you tell what I am?”

  There was something different about him. I knew that the first night I saw him at Vamps. But the whole incongruity of his personality with his body language had thrown me off. I inhaled to get a better sense of his scent.

  It wasn’t human. Not the kind I was used to anyway. Besides the masculine aroma, some type of animal scent also clung to him. Possibly feline. Not a house cat, but something I’d encounter more in the wild.

  And then it came to me as clear as a flashing beacon.

  “Holy fuck. You’re a goddamn shifter.”

  Chapter Four

  Devon

  “Bingo. You win the prize,” I said. “How did you finally figure it out?”

  “I can smell the animal in you.”

  “Aw shucks. That’s so kind of you to say. You’re not a very good vampire, are you, because it took you long enough.”

  “Maybe it’s because I met you when you were with a bunch of stinky, sweaty humans and then you fucking drugged me and none of my senses are up to par! Ever think of that, hotshot? Are you always such a jerk?”

  I sat back down in my chair, watching her with some amusement as her eyes widened in anger.

  “It doesn’t pay to be nice in this position. I’d be setting myself up to be taken advantage of.”

  “It wouldn’t kill you to act humane though, would it?” she spat with glaring eyes.

  I thought of my response not too long ago when she was in my bed, whimpering about something and calling out in distress. Soothing her seemed kind of humane to me. Stroking her cheek and telling her it was okay. A jerk wouldn’t do that, would he? Not that I’d ever reveal any of this to her.

  “I can do that. Is there something you need?”

  “Yes, of course there is. I need to get the fuck out of here before you lead me to my death!” she said.

  “Sorry, I can’t help you with that.” I stood up. “I can get you something to eat or drink though.”

  “I don’t think you have what I need.”

  “Blood?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “No, I’m not going to let you bite me. I meant I have some pouches of blood to keep you going. I don’t know when the last time was you ate—or drank—or whatever you vampires call sucking blood. And I didn’t want you to get so hungry that you’d look at me as your next meal—like you’re doing now.”

  “I need the sustenance after all you’ve done to me. Drugged me, tied me up with silver. Anything else I should know about while I was out?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “Did you violate me in my sleep like some fuckin’ weirdo?”

  “No!” I shouted in my defense. “I soothed you while you were having a nightmare.”

  Bloody hell! I swore I’d never tell her that. I don’t want her to see a softer side of me. She’ll use it to try to manipulate me.

  The defensive look on her face dropped and she asked, “You did?”

  “Never mind. I’ll get you a pouch of blood.” I left the room, kicking myself for letting her rile me up.

  What did I care what she thought? Tonight I’d be taking her to a pissed-off vampire and who knows what would happen to her after that. She’d be out of my life forever.

  I grabbed the disgusting blood bag from the small cooler I’d filled with ice. There was no way I was storing these bloody things in my refrigerator.

  Ha ha ha, bloody things, literally.

  Focus, Devon.

  The instructions from the underground blood bank where I purchased the packets gave me options for serving temperature. It could be consumed cold, at room temperature or heated on the stove or in the microwave. Most preferred the blood warm. I could go back in there and ask her, but I hadn’t recovered from my revelation about taking care of her when she had the nightmare.

  She’d have to have it warm. I put it in the microwave for about thirty seconds and brought it back into my bedroom.

  “Try not to get it on the sheets,” I said.

  “How can I even drink that? I can’t sit up. And I don’t have the use of my hands to hold it.”

  I could untie one arm and let her sit up. But that might be too dangerous. After all, she was a predator. How much vampire strength did she hide in that deceiving little body? I pictured her luring men with the temptation of sensual delights and then surprising them with an attack.

  Don’t trust her for a second. She’ll turn on you and bleed you dry.

  “I’ll have to
feed you,” I said.

  “No!” she protested. “I’d rather starve!”

  “You’re seeing Stefano in mere hours. Wouldn’t you want to be in top form?”

  She pouted. “Why can’t you let me drink it myself?”

  “You’re too dangerous.”

  “I promise not to attack you.”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  I looked at the pouch, trying to figure out how to serve it. There were two marks, presumably for fangs. I went back into the kitchen and pierced one of the holes with a knife. Then I searched for a straw. I found one of those curvy straws that kids liked to drink from. I don’t even know where that came from. One of my nieces or nephews perhaps?

  The visual of putting a silly straw into a pouch of blood made me laugh out loud. She was going to love this, I thought with a shake of my head.

  When I returned, her eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “It’s all I have.”

  “I can’t drink blood from a straw like that.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “Of course not. It’s ridiculous! You’re only doing this to humiliate me.”

  “I would not do that to you.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t humiliating your victims give you a kick?”

  I walked out of the room and she called, “Where are you going?”

  Returning to my bedroom, I said, “You seem to have this whole thing wrong. I did not do all this research to find an underground blood bank so I could humiliate you. I did it to help make you more comfortable. Now I’m sorry that I only have this ridiculous straw, but I’m not familiar with the protocol here. If this is too humiliating for you,” I held up the pouch, “I’ll flush it down the toilet.”

  “No, don’t do that.” She moved to try to maneuver herself into a more upright position. “Can you please help me sit up?”

  By the distasteful look that came over her face, I saw how difficult it was for her to ask me for help.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I put the pouch down on my nightstand, careful that it wouldn’t tip over or spill, and then walked over to her warily. Her wrists were bound, but she still had other body parts to use as weapons. Legs and fangs came immediately to mind.