He’d just finished unbuckling his belt when someone coughed delicately from the direction of the door. I looked over, still lost in that haze of Black’s fingers and mouth and light...
When my eyes found an obviously delighted Gomez staring at the two of us.
He leaned against the door jamb like he’d stood there for awhile, arms folded across his chest in the checkered hipster shirt he wore under a pumpkin-orange tie.
He grinned when he saw me looking at him. It changed the shape of his long sideburns.
“Naughty, naughty, Dr. Fox...” he said, waggling a finger at me. “You know you’re not supposed to do that with patients, don’t you?”
A hard pulse of fury left Black’s light, even as he angled his body to shield mine.
He took his fingers out of me too, tugging my skirt down to cover my legs as he backed away from me somewhat, still placing himself firmly between me and the door. Feeling his aggression worsen... then turn outwards, towards Gomez... I caught hold of Black’s arms, alarmed in spite of myself.
“Gomey,” I said, still gripping onto Black. “Get out of my office. Now. Shut the door behind you.”
Gomez grinned, raising his eyebrows. “Sure thing, Dr. Fox. Sooo sorry to interrupt...” Despite his words, he didn’t move, but glanced down pointedly at Black’s unhooked belt. “Looks like Mr. Black came by for a little walk-in session. Or would that be a drive-in? Either way, he wasn’t in the book... so how was I supposed to know?”
Again I felt that fury emanate off Black.
The sheer intensity of it alarmed me again.
“Get the fuck out of here, Gomey,” I snapped that time. “Right now. Or you’re fired.”
He jumped, maybe from my tone or maybe from my words, but that smirk never left his face. Still looking at Black, he pulled his shoulder off the door frame, backing out through the opening into the hall. I started to wonder if maybe Gomez was suicidal.
“Fine. Be that way.” He smirked down at Black’s ass again. “No need to get all... hot and bothered about it. After all, I work here, too. And it’s a little late for a nooner.”
My jaw clenched. “Gomey.”
The door finally closed behind him, and I grimaced.
When I looked up at Black, his jaw was hard.
“I’m going to kill that little shit,” he muttered.
“No, you’re not. But I do seriously need to fire him.”
Exhaling, he looked down at me, then at his watch. He scowled. “All right. I have a few more things I need to do in town before we leave. I want us in the air by eight o’clock, so I’ll pick you up here at six-thirty. Will you be done by then?” When I nodded, he exhaled again, nodding back. “Good. We’ll eat onboard.”
He met my gaze finally, his gold eyes sharp, but still holding flickers of that heat. “We’re taking my plane. You haven’t been on it yet, have you?”
I shook my head, still fighting to pull myself back from whatever the hell just happened between us. I couldn’t quite match his business-like tone, but I tried.
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head again as I slid off the edge of the desk. “Not yet.”
He nodded, still looking at me. “It has a bed,” he said.
I grimaced. I couldn’t help it.
“Do I even want to know why it has a bed, Black?” I said, aiming my scowl up at him. “Since I’ve never been on it?”
When I glanced up after a second of silence on him, he frowned.
“I’ll get a new mattress,” he said. “Before we leave.”
“Really not helping, Black.”
Still thinking, he frowned. “New sheets, too. Maybe change out the covers on some of the sofas...”
“Really, really not helping, Black.”
He was already pulling away from me though, straightening his shirt. He grimaced as he finished buckling his belt.
“I’ll replace it,” is all he said.
Then he walked out of the room, not looking back.
Chapter 3
Chocolate
My last appointment of the day was already fifteen minutes late. I found myself checking the clock on my computer every few seconds as I caught up on paperwork, then, when I’d done as much of that as I could stomach, I debated leaving to grab something to eat or another cup of coffee before Black showed up.
More than anything, I was tempted to call my two best friends, Angel and Nick. I really wanted to see them before I took off for New York.
Somewhere in the midst of that indecision, Gomey walked back into my office.
He knocked, that time.
He must have been really worried when I’d threatened to fire him... that, or he overheard me saying the same to Black after he left the room. Either way, he came in with one of the large-sized cups from the Royale Blend coffee shop downstairs, holding it out in both hands, like an offering, a contrite expression on his face.
“I thought you might like a coffee before your flight,” he said.
Since I literally couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever brought me anything, even when I asked, I only blinked at him at first.
I’d just opened a search browser to go back to my side project of the past few days, researching vampires. I hadn’t found anything super useful yet, but I’d been looking into a few cults of supposedly-human beings who believed they were vampires.
So my mind was pretty much elsewhere when I found myself staring at Gomey.
“It’s the kind you like,” he said, his voice holding just the barest trace of a sulk. “I think it is. One of the kinds, anyway. A mocha... no whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles on top.”
I blinked again. I think I’d only ever drank one mocha in my entire life.
But hell, maybe chocolate was a good idea right then.
Clearing my throat, I nodded, motioning towards the desk with the pen I held. “Thanks, Gomez. That’s very thoughtful of you. You can just leave it here.”
He put it down on the desk then just stood there, looking at me.
I stared back, waiting. When he didn’t say anything else, I motioned towards the scarf he wore around his neck.
“Is it cold out?” I said, polite.
He stared at me blankly, then looked down at the scarf I’d indicated towards with my pen. The bright scarlet knit clashed pretty horribly with the orange tie and his plaid shirt.
“Oh. Yes,” he said, a little too brightly. “It’s nippy out. Be sure and wear a coat.”
“Okay.” I frowned slightly. “I’ll do that.”
His voice sounded strange. His use of the word “nippy” was strange, too, but not wholly unlike him, so I shrugged it off.
“Any word from Mr. Patterson?” I said.
Again, that blank stare. Then he shook his head, slower. “No.”
Suppressing my sigh when he continued to stand there, I nodded. “Well, thanks for the coffee, Gomey. I really appreciate it. I’m just going to finish a few things up here. If Mr. Patterson doesn’t show up by the end of his session time, you can go.”
Gomez nodded, looking almost comically relieved.
He left the room trailing that odd scarf, moving like a frightened rabbit.
Maybe I needed Black to come in here and threaten his life more often.
Adjusting the plastic lid on the coffee cup, I moved it closer to me as I went over a few more websites I’d found related to the “vampire underground.” I recognized the names of a few psychologists who’d weighed in on the subject and realized I’d met one of them at a conference on forensic psychology. After mulling it over, I wrote him an email, reminding him who I was and asking if he’d mind sending over his research notes.
When I hit send and looked at the clock, my patient had gone from being fifteen minutes late to thirty-two minutes late, and I was getting burnt out staring at screens.
I’d also forgotten about the coffee, which was probably getting cold.
Pulling it over to me, I took a cautious sip. It was so sweet I almost
grimaced, but between the sugar rush and the caffeine, I took a longer drink. Then another.
Shutting down my laptop and shoving it in my bag, I grabbed my coat off the rack and jerked open the door leading out to the reception area, the mocha cup still in hand. Even though it was mostly cold and sickly sweet, I didn’t want to offend Gomey by throwing it in the trash more than half-full, or he’d never bring me one again.
I took a few more swallows on my way to the reception area, if only because the exhaustion was really hitting me now. I had it in my head I’d drop by the Northern Precinct, see if Nick or Angel were around, maybe up for a less sugar-bombed version of caffeine before I got on the plane. Angel and Nick might want to come back here with me and see Black in the flesh anyway. I was pretty sure they hadn’t seen him yet since he’d got back.
Turning right at the end of the short hall past my office door, I yawned, looked for Gomey behind the reception desk. I frowned when I saw it empty, and checked my watch.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Again?”
Not only had he left the desk abandoned, he’d turned out all the lights. The room was hazy and dim with pre-sunset sun, and all the blinds were closed.
I’d told him he could go at the end of the hour.
It was so like Gomey to interpret those words as “you can go right now.”
Checking my watch, I reached for my bag to find my phone, fumbling more clumsily than usual. I was still squinting into my bag, fighting a sudden rush of dizziness, when I walked past the reception desk and into the main waiting area.
I looked down at the floor and stopped.
Gomez was sprawled out on the carpet, eyes closed. A dark-clothed form, one who looked vaguely familiar to me, had his mouth attached to my administrative assistant’s shoulder. I could hear loud, wet sucking sounds coming from that mouth––something about the two bodies’ locked poses and that slurping sound was disturbingly obscene.
The utterly contented look on the other man’s face confused me, then made me blink, struggling to focus my eyes as I stared at them.
Next to them, another body lay.
I studied that face as well, then realized it was the client I’d been waiting for. My mind sought his name: Patterson. Clay Patterson. Familiar-looking crescent-shaped marks lived on both his exposed wrist and his neck. He was so pale, his skin looked like chalk.
I stared at the whole scene, swaying on my feet, fighting to take it in.
Then it hit me. Clay Patterson was dead.
And there was something seriously wrong with me. I should be running. I should have run from the room by now... out onto the street... but I found myself frozen in place.
The coffee. Gomez. The scarf.
The way Gomez just stood there, as if waiting for me to drink it.
But I couldn’t fully wrap my head around the import of any of those things.
My mind was moving far too slow to really join this party.
I was still struggling to focus, to think in straight lines, when I realized I was kneeling on the carpeted floor. The smell of chocolate was overpowering. I grimaced, looking at the coffee cup that had opened when it fell, spilling lukewarm chocolate all over the beige carpet. Then I was on my hands and knees, still staring at the men in front of me. I watched, squinting, fighting to focus my eyes, as the one in the black suit sucked happily on Gomey’s neck.
Breathing harder, I willed myself to get up. To move.
Crawl towards the door. Find the phone in my bag.
I only hung there, panting. It seemed to take every ounce of my concentration to keep my arms from collapsing under me.
After what seemed like an endless space of silence, the being in the black suit raised its head with a sigh. Blood dripped down the corners of its mouth and along its jaw. His glass-like eyes flashed, illuminating the scarlet tint around the pupil.
Seeing me, he smiled, resting his hands easily on Gomey’s chest, like it was a footstool.
“Well, good evening, dear heart.” He had a thick New Orleans accent, just like I remembered. “So sorry for my poor manners, Dr. Fox. I was just about to come fetch you... but I got distracted, I confess. Food can be such an all-consuming passion of mine.”
Pulling a black handkerchief from his breast pocket, he snapped it out of its fold, then used it to wipe his hands, and then his lips and jaw.
“You ready to go, beautiful Miriam?”
I fought to focus my eyes. My mind whirled in the darkness, fighting to hold onto something, anything solid.
Black. I had to find Black... I had to find him now...
My mind reached out, intending to scream for him.
But I couldn’t even do that.
My attempts to throw myself outward into that psychic space dissipated around me like smoke. It was like being in a dream, one where you desperately need to scream, to cry for help, but all you can manage is a whispered breath. I fought again and again, trying to make some sound in that space, to throw up a flare, but nothing came out of me.
If Black felt me calling for him, nothing but silence greeted me in return.
I fought to control my mind, to gear up to try again, but the drug stole over me like a virus, pulling my mind into fragments, disconnecting pieces so they couldn’t communicate with one another. The harder I tried, the more the different elements turned into smoke, pulled apart by wind, even by a too-hard breath.
The harder I tried, the worse it got.
When I opened my eyes next, I was lying on my back. The man in the black suit was standing over me now, smiling. The barest hint of those fangs showed beneath his curved lips.
I recognized him, though. My mind fixated on that, tried to make sense of it.
It was the vampire who took Black.
It was the same goddamned vampire... and I was already too late.
Chapter 4
Girl on a Plane
I opened my eyes to a now-familiar view.
The underside of a luggage bin hung over me, creamy-white in color. No round air ducts or bright orange call buttons patterned this particular bin. The accent lights I saw were larger and a lot nicer than anything I’d ever seen on a commercial airplane.
My mind came back slowly... like it had to swim back through that same underwater cavern in which it fell.
I was lying on a couch, under a row of oval windows.
The view-shades on those windows were down, but I could tell from the sounds and the movement of the cabin that we were already in the air.
My mind flashed back to the conversation I’d had with Black in my office. For a long-feeling few seconds, I felt nothing but relief, even as I grimaced, wondering if this was one of the countless couches Black had sex on with one of the probably-thousands of women he’d burned through before he’d met me.
Gritting my teeth at the thought, I looked down at the upholstery by my arms. A head-rush hit me when I lifted my head, slanting out my vision. The pain that rose in my temples at that shocked me, forcing me to stop, to rest my head back down on the couch’s cushion, even as my hand went to my forehead.
Then, before I’d even pulled my shoulders up off the couch, a voice made me freeze.
“Well, hello there, Mrs. Black. So happy to see you awake at last.”
My eyes darted towards the forward part of the plane.
I wasn’t high enough yet to see him. I turned to my left instead, and saw a man I didn’t know handcuffed to a seat, his eyes closed. I blinked at him, trying to decide why he was there, but ended up looking at how they’d bound him, instead. Metal cuffs held him to special rings both at the wrists and at his ankles. Chains also held his wrists and ankle together. he had a red, half-moon bite mark on his neck, next to a tattoo of a sword.
He wasn’t asleep, my mind amended... he was unconscious.
His eyes were closed, and his head hung loosely on his neck, but his breathing was so shallow it didn’t look like a natural sleep.
I didn’t recognize him at all.
She looked waif-thin in the dress, even with the skirts, and completely out of place in the modern cabin.
I’d never seen her before, either.
Between her appearance and how still she sat, I struggled to see her as real.
Feeling a harder knot form in my chest, I pulled myself the rest of the way up with an effort, using the back of the couch. Once I had, I faced Brick, who sat with his legs elegantly crossed in a leather airplane seat just forward of the couch where I sat. His chair, which was made of the same soft, cream-colored leather as the couch, looked more like a recliner in the upright position than a normal airplane seat.
Holding a flute of champagne in one hand, he smiled at me, his strange, glass-like eyes shimmering under the cabin lights.
I’d already noticed those eyes seemed to change color.
Like now––they appeared almost glass-like, with only the faintest tinge of that blood-like red a heated blossom around his pupil. When I’d seen him kill another vampire right in front of me, his eyes had gone almost completely scarlet––a vibrant, glowing purple-red that glowed from the hollows of his skull.
Brick smiled, those clear eyes watching me with amusement.
His must be how vampire eyes looked when they were relaxed.
Sitting the rest of the way up, I leaned against the back of the leather couch, fighting to level my mind, to think.
I was already trying to reach Black with my psychic ability.
Some kind of wall or emptiness surrounded me however, and after a few more moments of that, I focused my stare back on Brick.
“What?” I said coldly. “No collar?”
Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More Page 142
