The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4)

by Marianne Morea

  She gestured to the three Were males before looking back at the vampire. “Trust me, if you were an unmated Were female, you’d be squirming in your seat, eager to roll in their scent.”

  “She’d want to roll around with more than just our scent, that’s for sure!”

  “Gehrig…” Sean warned.

  Amused, Sébastien pursed his lips, sliding his eyes toward Abigail. “It’s settled then.”

  Everyone stopped. “What’s settled,” Abigail asked, the pitch of her voice rising in apprehension.

  “Not what, but whom. The one I choose to be my ambassador, and escort the wolves to our shadow houses.”

  “Certainly, you can’t mean me, Sébastien?”

  He waved a dismissive hand at Abigail’s balk. “My dear, you will spend the next few days with both Dash and his younger brother. The moon will be in full flush during that time, and in my stead you will be as accommodating to them as Sean has been to us in our time of need.”

  “But, Sébastien—”

  His shook his head. “It is my wish, Abigail, and you will do as instructed.” His unblinking stare met hers. “Or do I need to show our guests how easy it is to bend you to my will?”

  At the naked threat, Bette sucked in a breath, and Abigail’s white skin paled even more.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Abigail’s reply was no more than a whisper, but loud enough to earn the master vampire’s nod of approval.

  “Good.” In a very old world gesture, he held out his arm for Lily before turning to Sean. “Shall we then? The sunrise awaits and it’s been decades since I’ve indulged in its pink and gold splendor. I can think of no more glorious place to watch the dawn break than over the ocean.”

  Lily placed her hand on the Sébastien’s arm and stood. “Sunrise?” she asked.

  Sébastien flashed an indulgent smile. “Dearest child, when you achieve my great age there is little left that is a threat, including the sun.” He cast his eyes toward Abigail. “Even my impolite progeny is old enough to suffer the sun on cloudy days.”

  Gehrig looked at Bette toying with her drink, her straw submerged in a thick, red liquid and it wasn’t cherry slush. “What about you? Want a playdate in the park?”

  She angled her head giving him a smirk. “New York has strict leash laws, Fido.” At the look on his face she grinned, shaking her head. “Technically, I’m still a youngblood, so the sun is still a no-no for me. Then again, I prefer to play in the dark.”

  Sean laughed, picking up the keys to his Harley from the small corner table. He winked at his wife. “Whaddaya say, Lil? Feel like holding tight and riding the wind behind a Were that smells like wet dog with a hard-on?”

  Lily flashed him a sexy, half smirk. “Is there any other way?”

  Eyes flashing red, Sébastien snapped his fingers and Calypso moved to his side from behind the bar. He took her arm, his long finger trailing the length of her bare skin to her chin. “Abigail, since your assistant will be seeing to my needs this weekend, I suggest you let Bette help see to your responsibilities.”

  The master inhaled, his eyes dilating at the nervous pulse visibly beating in Calypso’s throat.

  “Don’t disappoint.” His words were directed at Abigail, but his gaze never left the pretty Creole as he steered her toward the club’s private exit. The four left, leaving the others to watch as the door to the street closed behind them.

  “Is your assistant going to be okay?” Gehrig gestured toward the exit door. “Sébastien looked at the poor girl like she was a hot lunch.”

  Unconcerned, Abigail lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “One. I don’t know, and two, what else would she be to a master vampire?”

  “Okay then. On that note, what time should we get started in the morning?” Dash asked, redirecting the conversation.

  Abigail shrugged. “Why wait? Shadow houses are at their busiest this time of night.”

  “Because I’d rather not spot check the donors when they’re otherwise occupied.”

  At the sour look on Abigail’s face he exhaled. Clearly, this was not going to be as smooth as Sébastien hoped, whatever his threat.

  “How about a compromise, then? We can investigate a shadow house that’s close by, tonight. Hopefully, one that doesn’t have too much traffic.” Dash didn’t know how else to phrase it. “Then tomorrow we can start wherever you feel is best.”

  “Whatever,” Abigail replied with an offhand wave.

  He frowned. “With an answer like that, you should be snapping gum and twirling your hair instead of negotiating with me as Sébastien’s agent.”

  At Bette’s snort, Abigail shot the younger vampire a dirty look, but didn’t reply.

  Dash exhaled. “Look, like it or not, we’re on the same team. HepZ nearly destroyed the Weres, and we all have Lily to thank it didn’t do more damage to either of our races. We need to get beyond this Vampire versus Were bullshit and do what we came to do.”

  “Fine,” she snapped.

  “Fine?”

  Abigail eyed him with bored annoyance. “You heard me, dog. In my world, I say things once, and I don’t plan on spending the next three days repeating myself for the benefit of two ham-fisted canines.”

  “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Gehrig moved from where he leaned on a chair beside Bette.

  The younger vampire put a staying hand on his arm and shook her head.

  Abigail ignored the younger Were, keeping her eyes glued to Dash. “You think you know so much, but you don’t know a thing about vampires.”

  Dash snorted. “And you think you know about Weres? Trust me, honey, you haven’t a clue. If it wasn’t for Were blood, you’d be a maggot magnet in some worm ridden grave, but then again vampires are nothing more than walking corpses, anyway.”

  Abigail’s eyes flashed red and she shot to her feet, fangs fully descended.

  Dash answered with a low feral growl at the back of his throat.

  “Okay. Show and tell time is over!” Bette insinuated herself between the two. “You two need to cool off, so why don’t we postpone this little pow-wow for now. You can meet early in the morning and hit the shadow house on Jane Street before the sun becomes a danger. It’s one of our bigger houses and has at least twenty donors in residence at a clip.”

  Neither Abigail nor Dash said a word.

  “Good idea,” Gehrig added. “And I plan to learn as much as I can about vampire culture, tonight.” His eyes took a walk over Bette’s lush curves. “Care to be my personal tutor?”

  Abigail threw her hands in the air, her fangs retracting with a snap. “Fine. Meet me here tomorrow at eight a.m.”

  Dash licked his lips trying to ignore the sexy way her angry made her chest heave, highlighting the gorgeous swell of her breasts and her trim waist. She stood and smoothed her pencil skirt over her hips and he watched her hands travel the lush curves before she straightened.

  His body tightened with need he hadn’t felt in ages and his senses tingled at the exotic scent of her. The sexy vampire was fire and ice and the fact she was close enough to touch and taste but completely taboo made him want her even more.

  As if she could read his thoughts, Abigail walked away in disgust, leaving the three of them standing at the table.

  Gehrig slipped his arm around Bette’s shoulders, but kept his eyes on his brother. “Go home, Dash. Get some sleep, because that one’s going to put you through the paces.” He gestured toward Abigail’s retreating figure.

  Bette went up on tiptoe and licked the pulse beating in Gehrig’s carotid. “She’s not the only one.”

  Gehrig growled low and slid his hand down to cup her rounded ass. “Bring it on, babe.”

  She kissed his throat, but then pulled back to look at him. “What about your taboo?”

  He cupped her chin. “Rules are made to be broken, baby. Consider this a fact finding mission for us both. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” He grinned. “Just don’t kill me, okay?”
>
  She laughed. “Deal.”

  Arm in arm they moved toward the stairs. “Don’t wait up, bro—” he called over his shoulder and the two disappeared into the crowd.

  Dash watched them leave. “And then there was one,” he muttered. “With a raging hard-on for the vampire queen.”

  4

  “It’s about time, wolf. You obviously have no concept of time or my constraints. We have a lot of ground to cover before the sun gets too high.”

  Dash pulled the plastic tab back on his coffee and blew across the narrow opening. He watched her, almost enjoying her agitation as he took a slow sip. “And good morning to you too, Abby.”

  “It’s Abigail. Not Abby.” She looked at him and then at her watch, wrinkling her nose.

  He exhaled, running his thumb along the steam covered seam. “Can we please not start the day like cats and dogs? It’s exactly eight a.m. as agreed.” He sniffed. “I took pains this morning not to offend, and since it’s no longer raining, why the sour face?”

  She answered his question with a question. “Is that foul beverage portable?”

  He laughed. “Who would have thought the smell of fresh brewed coffee would offend more than the scent of wet dog.”

  “Well?”

  “Yes, Ms. Abigail, the coffee is portable. Gehrig kept me up very late last night, and I need a jolt of caffeine to get my juices flowing.”

  His eyes took in her long legs and her black knee length leather boots. Her leggings hugged her curves perfectly, as did the low cut of her blouse, giving his imagination plenty to work with. Clearly, she had dressed down for what was ahead, but kept the sex appeal in high gear.

  “I thought Gehrig was with Bette all night?” she asked.

  He took another sip of coffee, eyeing her over its white plastic rim, one eyebrow up.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Exactly,” he replied.

  A reluctant smirk pushed at the corner of Abigail’s lips. “Well, considering I know what vampires are capable of, I’m surprised you have any juices left this morning to get flowing.”

  Dash’s mouth turned down. “The walls of our apartment are paper thin, sweetheart. I’m not into threesomes with the walking dead. Bette is pretty and all, but she’s not my type. Besides, I prefer my partners not fall into a corpse-like state at dawn.”

  “Too bad.” She eyed him with a jaunty angle to her head.

  Dash looked at her. Was that an offhand invitation or was she just being snarky?

  She kept her unnerving gaze on him. “So you were forced to be an auditory voyeur?” she asked, getting up from her chair.

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He didn’t know where she was headed with this, but if she wanted to play, then he was game, too.

  He put his coffee cup on a low table and reached for her jacket, holding it open for her. She shrugged one arm into her sleeve, the sweep of her hair brushing against his arm.

  Her scent was intoxicating and he held her collar against the nape of her neck a little longer than necessary just to breathe her in.

  She was cold to the touch, but he anticipated as much, though he never expected her to smell like sunshine, the taste like chocolate and strawberries on the back of his tongue. His mouth watered and he had to stop himself from spinning her in his arms to claim her mouth and every other inch of her.

  Abigail froze at the feel of his lingering fingers. “Uhm. Thank you, Dash.”

  It was the first time she’d spoken his name, and he smiled behind her. “No problem.” He hiked her coat up a little more and gave her shoulders a gentle pat.

  They stood in awkward silence for a moment until a shirtless young man in leather pants walked toward them with a chrome travel cup on a small round tray.

  “Bette called before dawn. She left word for this to be ready for you when you came downstairs.” He handed her the cup. “She also said not to wait for the other wolf. They’ll meet you here after sundown.”

  Dash shook his head, fishing in his pocket for his cell phone. He scrolled through his contacts and pressed Gehrig’s number.

  “Unbelievable,” he muttered into a hard exhale when the call went right to voicemail.

  “Don’t waste your breath, Dash. If I know Bette, your brother will be out cold for hours.”

  He shoved his phone into his pocket again. “What now?”

  “Can you handle verifying twenty donors yourself?” she asked.

  He looked at her and his eyes locked with hers. “I can handle anything you give me.”

  Abigail licked her lips, her nostrils flaring a bit. “We’ll have to see about that.”

  

  “Yes? May I help you?” A tall, lanky vampire stood in the open doorway. He glanced over Dash’s casual attire and sniffed. “If you’re looking for a room, I’m sorry, we’re full up.”

  Dressed like a downtown hipster, the pale vampire looked to be in his early twenties, but appearances meant nothing. The beanie wearing bloodsucker could be older than dirt, especially since it was morning.

  “I bet. And I know exactly the kind of guests you have occupying those rooms,” Dash replied.

  The vampire raised an eyebrow and took a backward step ready to shut the door.

  Dash’s hand shot out grabbing the edge of the beveled wood. “Not so fast, chief. I’m here at Sébastien’s request.”

  The hipster’s dark eyebrow hiked even further.

  “Stop playing games, Dash.” Abigail stepped out from the safety of the building’s shadow and moved in front of the door. “You certainly took your time answering the bell, Micah. Move aside and let the wolf pass.”

  She took off her sunglasses, letting the full force of her red eyes stare him down. “Or would you rather trade places with me in the morning sun? It’s overcast, but it’ll give you a good sizzle nonetheless.”

  Micah dropped his gaze and stepped to one side as Abigail brushed past with Dash close behind. Micah closed the door and Abigail paused, considering the young vampire.

  “Where is Finn?” she asked with a snap.

  Micah looked up. “He’s in with Mairé. He asked not to be disturbed.”

  She didn’t comment, but her lips thinned at the news. “Thank you, Micah. You should go to your rest. You’re far too young to man the door at this time of day.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head. “I’ll see the house is secured.”

  The hipster vamp nodded and then headed for the stairs. Abigail motioned for Dash to follow her down the hall past various sitting rooms and an obvious bar until she stopped at a door marked private.

  Turning the knob, she pushed the heavy oak open and stood to one side. “Wait in here. I’ll be right back.”

  The room was clearly the manager’s office. A large desk stacked with files and one large black ledger sat adjacent to a stocked wall-length bookcase. A decanter and two dirty wine glasses stood on a side table, a thick crimson residue ringing the bottom of each.

  Dash opened the ledger and scanned the old fashioned scrawl. The handwriting was ornate and looping. From what he read, it was clear the pages were an account of every blood donor in the house, their age and where they came from, the length of their involvement at the shadow house and a list of their primary hookups.

  Yelling in the hall jerked his attention away from the accounts and he closed the book. Abigail yanked the office door open. “Get inside. You’re a disgrace!”

  She shoved a half-dressed human male through the threshold, the force making him stumble. He caught the edge of the desk to stop from pitching to the floor.

  “Abigail, please—”

  “Shut up, Finn. I sent word myself we were coming this morning, and yet you left the safety of the shadow house and all its residents to a youngblood not old enough to distinguish the scent of a werewolf at the door! All because you couldn’t think past the end of your erection!”

  She shot the man a warning look not to open his mouth. “Pull up your pants before I d
rain you here and now. Then sit in that chair and answer every question asked of you. Got it?”

  He nodded, shoving his shirt into his pants and buckling his belt before slinking behind his desk to sit as directed. He smoothed his thinning hair back over his face, his eyes furtive.

  Dash inhaled. The metallic scent of sweat laced fear was clear and it poured off the man. He was scared, and rightly so. You didn’t cross a vampire, even if you had a cross in your hands.

  The wolf smirked to himself at the pun and Abigail shot him a look, too.

  “You find this amusing, I suppose.” She exhaled an aggravated sigh.

  Dash shook his head. “Not in the least, but the stupidity here is surprising, especially since this was left out for anyone with prying eyes to see.” He gestured toward the ledger.

  Abigail looked at the book and her gaze hardened. She lifted her flinty eyes to Finn for explanation. “Well?”

  “As you said, I knew you were coming today so I left the book out. I didn’t expect you so…so…early.”

  Abigail threw her arm in the air. “Really. And if it was too early for me that I’m three hundred years old, didn’t you think it was too early for Micah? The boy’s face was riddled with blue veining from thirst and daylight exhaustion. He should have been at his rest well before dawn!”

  “I…I…”

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Finn. I warned Sébastien your fetish would bring trouble.”

  Dash couldn’t resist. “Fetish?”

  Abigail made a face, and Finn cringed. “Our human friend here likes to fuck the dead. He’s a necrophiliac. Sébastien thinks it funny, but I don’t. Finn likes to prey on youngbloods, waiting until they fall into a deathlike sleep at dawn before he violates their cold bodies. He can’t get it up any other way, can you Finny-boy?”

  The man dropped his face into his hands, crying. “Stop it. Please…stop.”

  Abigail perched on the end of his desk, lifting a ruler from the cup holder. “I should tell Mairé what I found you doing to her ass. She’s very resourceful and I’m sure she’ll come up with interesting ways to deal with your ass.” She slid the sharp end of the ruler under his chin and forced him to look up.