Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

by Sara Humphreys

  She wanted to ask him what was happening but no words would come. Fear, a long-forgotten feeling, fired through her with brutal and unforgiving force, but the man in front of her was anything but afraid. Fury. Rage. Unbridled hatred simmered beneath the surface, and for the first time since she’d met him, Trixie became acutely aware of exactly how deadly Dakota could be. She’d heard about his razor-sharp focus in battle but this was the first time she was seeing it for herself.

  He remained motionless in the moonlit night, all sharp edges and hard lines. Dakota looked like a rubber band that had been almost stretched to the limit. The air around them stilled and thickened, and it became obvious that she and Dakota were no longer alone.

  If Trixie had any breath in her lungs, she’d be holding it.

  A rock skittered along the ground, shattering the silence and with it, Dakota’s stone-cold posture as he whispered…Run.

  Trixie opened her mouth to respond and ask just where the hell she should run to, when the pungent odor of rotting flowers filled the air. It was far stronger than before but there was no mistake. It was the same unpleasant scent she’d picked up at Chelsea’s house that night. Trixie’s stomach churned and an overwhelming sensation of nausea swamped her. A powerful cramp racked her gut and she doubled over in agony. She fell to her knees. She could hear Dakota shouting her name through the fog of pain, but he sounded impossibly far away.

  An ungodly shriek filled the night. A shadowy, hulking figure swept in, tackling Dakota to the ground.

  The darkness closed in.

  Dakota catapulted out of bed with a shout and landed in a crouching position across the room by the bedroom door. His fingers pressed into soft carpet and he froze in place while regaining his bearings. He was awake and back in his apartment. There was no gargoyle, and Trixie was nowhere to be seen.

  “What the hell was that about?” Dakota whispered.

  Rising slowly to his feet, he pressed his hands to his bare chest. There was no blood, no gaping wounds from the gargoyle’s razor-sharp claws. Only the long, bumpy, scarred skin left from the original attack rasped under his fingertips. The four slashes of raised flesh were his only physical reminder of that life-altering encounter. Until now, he’d thought the mental scars had long since healed.

  Vampires stopped dreaming after about ten years of being turned. So why now, after all this time, had he started dreaming again? He’d bet his best pair of boots it had something to do with the scent he’d detected in the woods. That girl, Chelsea, was mixed up with gargoyles. She had to be.

  The two incidents had to be connected.

  Frustrated and more than a little concerned, Dakota strode to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped off his boxers and tossed them into the hamper before stepping into the almost painfully hot streams. He turned the dream over and over in his mind as the water poured down on him, but he kept coming back to the same conclusion.

  A gargoyle was involved with a human woman. But why?

  He was a sentry and he’d messed with gargoyles before. So it was up to him to find the creature and put it down like the rabid beast it was. There was almost no chance that Trixie had any idea what Chelsea was messing with, and hopefully the human wouldn’t get in the way of what he knew he had to do.

  Taking out a gargoyle permanently would require more than his usual arsenal. That meant he’d have to pay a visit to the local weapons master, Xavier.

  A deadly smile spread across his face as he rinsed the soap from his body. He’d waited over fifty years to get more revenge; it looked like his wait was finally over.

  * * *

  “Hello, my friend!”

  Xavier’s enthusiastic voice boomed through the cavernous space of his workshop. He may have been small in stature but he had the biggest, most enthusiastic personality of anyone—human or vamp—that Dakota had met in all his years. A dwarf who’d been turned about a century ago, he looked like a tiny Albert Einstein. A shock of white hair stuck out from his head in a thousand directions, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. Garbed in a white lab coat with a pen tucked behind each ear, he looked like the nutty professor. Brilliant, but scattered.

  “Hey there, Xavier.” Dakota squeezed the smaller vampire’s hand and glanced at the ceiling where all kinds of weapons dangled like a macabre mobile. A moment later, a fluttering noise filled the air. A ghost, a pretty young woman with long dark hair, materialized and floated high above them. “And hello to you too, Bella.”

  “What can I do for you?” Xavier flew to a stool behind one of the many stainless-steel tables, all of them covered with one experiment or another. “Didn’t I just give you and Shane more ammunition last week? I thought it had been quiet lately. I’m surprised you need more so soon.”

  “Yeah, it has.” Dakota nodded and strolled slowly around the lab, surveying the different weaponry suspended overhead. “But I’m in need of something a little different. Let’s say…it’s for a secret project that I’m working on, and I’d be much obliged if you’d keep this little visit between us.”

  Xavier pushed his glasses on top of his head and nodded, not taking his keen gaze off Dakota. Dakota tried not to squirm beneath the weapon master’s inspecting stare. He’d only known Xavier a couple of years, and by all accounts, the man was not only intelligent but Doug and Olivia trusted him implicitly.

  “I see.” Xavier slipped his pudgy hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “Is Olivia aware of this secret project?”

  “No.” Dakota stilled and met the smaller vampire’s eyes. “And for now, I’d like it to stay that way. I wanna confirm my suspicions before I get everyone else’s knickers in a twist.” He kept his voice light and waved one hand. “No need to get the czars or the other sentries all worked up if I’m wrong.”

  “Are Shane and Pete aware of what’s going on?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “I don’t know about this, Dakota.” Xavier shook his head. “I’m really not comfortable keeping secrets, especially from Olivia.”

  Xavier’s agitation and nervousness were matched by the increasingly loud fluttering from the ghost girl, Bella. The sound grew louder when she floated down and hovered next to Xavier, giving Dakota a withering look. The pretty little specter might not speak English but she didn’t have to. She was making her feelings perfectly clear.

  “Hang on, now.” Dakota held up both hands and kept his voice even. “I’m not tellin’ you to lie or nothin’. If anyone comes right out and asks you about me or what I came here for, then be honest. You tell ’em that I came here for the supplies that I need to keep the community safe.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Xavier narrowed his eyes, his bushy white eyebrows furrowing. “How about you tell me exactly what you need and then I’ll tell you if I can help you.”

  Dropping his hands to his side, Dakota looked from Xavier to Bella and back again. Once he asked for this particular weapon, there would be no more wondering about who or what Dakota was going to hunt. Bullets would slow a gargoyle down, send them into a dormant state while they healed, but the only way to kill ’em was by piercing their heart with a weapon made of stone. Or decapitation but that was a messy business.

  “A stone dagger.”

  The line between Xavier’s eyes deepened and he let out a short laugh, as though not quite sure he’d heard Dakota’s unusual request correctly. Dakota didn’t flinch. He remained resolute and Xavier’s smile fell.

  “A gargoyle?” he asked, his voice edged with wonder. Xavier flew to Dakota and hovered in midair, looking as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. He clapped his hands together eagerly. “You mean to tell me that you think there’s a gargoyle in New York City? Why, that’s incredible! There haven’t been any confirmed gargoyle sightings in decades. I thought—I mean, we all thought—they were extinct.”

  “So did I.” Dak
ota wrestled with his waning patience and the surprising response from Xavier. “They’re nasty creatures, and with any luck, I’m wrong and they are extinct. But you can bet your ass if there is one lurking around here, I’ll snuff it out so quick, it’ll make your head spin.”

  “I don’t understand.” Xavier landed on the ground and peered up at Dakota curiously. “I know they weren’t the most popular group in the supernatural community, and they have a reputation for being less than trustworthy, given the way they abandoned their duty of protection. But this is quite exciting and—”

  “Exciting? You see this?” Dakota’s eyes flashed and he tugged his shirt up, exposing his angry-looking scars. “This is what I got the last time I ran into one of those animals. It gutted me like a fish, and if it weren’t for my maker, I’d have ended up food for the buzzards. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t share your enthusiasm for this little revelation. Make no mistake about it, Xavier. A gargoyle will just as soon kill you as look at you.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth before he regretted taking such a bitter tone. Xavier’s expression went from wonder to empathy as his gaze skittered over the scars. Dakota swore under his breath and tucked his shirt back in, feeling stupid for such a bare display of emotion. Sentries were supposed to be calm and cool, and he had just flipped out like some hotheaded kid.

  “I’m sorry, Dakota,” Xavier said quietly. “I didn’t know.”

  “Shit, man.” Dakota settled his hands on his hips and started pacing around the laboratory. He couldn’t look at Xavier or Bella; he was a jerk for flipping out the way he did. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I don’t know what my damn problem is.”

  “What makes you think there’s a gargoyle in Manhattan?”

  “It’s not in the city, at least not yet.” Dakota chose his words carefully. “I got a whiff of it the other night when I followed Trixie upstate. It’s been a while since I got a head full of gargoyle stink, but let me tell you, that is one stench you don’t forget.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Xavier said with a small smile. “But why were you following Trixie?”

  “I was doin’ Olivia a favor.” Dakota tried to be casual and act like it was no big deal. “She and the others were worried about where Trixie had been gettin’ off to lately.”

  “I see.” Xavier peered at him over the rim of his glasses. “Is that the only reason?”

  The jig was up. Somehow Xavier saw right through him. How long before the rest of the coven figured it out? He wanted to court Trixie, sure, but not with a damn audience.

  “Ah, hell, Xavier. I don’t know what it is about that woman, but I can’t get her out of my head. She’s the most infuriating lady I’ve ever known.” He shook his head and pressed his fingers to his eyes. “I even dreamed about her. Can you believe that? What fifty-plus-year-old vampire dreams? I must be losing my damn mind.” He dropped his hands and started pacing around the lab, frustration lacing every word. “Can vampires go crazy?”

  A heavy silence filled the enormous space, and Dakota could feel Xavier’s stare drilling a hole in his back. A flicker of foreboding skittered up his spine. When he turned around and noticed the stunned look on Xavier’s face, he suspected that he had more than a gargoyle to worry about.

  “What is it?” Dakota kept his voice even and fought the building sense of uneasiness. “Am I really going crazy or something?”

  Xavier glanced at Bella and then flew to Dakota, hovering in midair so that the two of them were eye to eye. He placed his pudgy hands on Dakota’s shoulders, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.

  “You’re not going crazy, my friend.” He let out a short laugh and shook his head. “But it will probably feel like you are, at least for a while. That’s what I’ve been told anyway.”

  “What are you talkin’ about, man? I wish someone around here would give me a straight answer.”

  “You had a dream last night…about Trixie?” He flicked a knowing glance to Bella and the ghost fluttered louder. “Or more to the point, you were dreaming with her.”

  “Well, yeah. I guess.” Dakota shifted his weight, suddenly feeling self-conscious. If his heart still beat, he’d probably be blushing like a kid caught with his father’s dirty magazines. “But it wasn’t anythin’…you know… Anyway, yeah, she was in it. So what?”

  “That’s what I suspected.” Xavier patted Dakota’s cheek in an almost fatherly gesture. “My dear boy, Trixie is your bloodmate.”

  “Bloodmate?” Dakota took a step back and held up both hands. “You mean like Olivia and Doug, or Shane and Maya? Eternal bonds, daywalking, and all that jazz?”

  “Yes.” Xavier chuckled and flew to the back of the lab. He pressed a button on the remote and a moment later the stainless steel wall slid open, revealing the substantial armory of the Presidium’s New York office. “All that jazz.”

  Dakota stood there with a million thoughts swimming through his head. He barely noticed when Xavier emerged, holding a gray stone dagger with a gilded handle.

  “Here you go.” He hovered in midair and held the unique weapon out for Dakota. When he didn’t take it, Xavier gently placed the dagger in his palm and closed Dakota’s fingers over it. “One stone dagger.”

  Bloodmate. Trixie was his bloodmate.

  As the full meaning of those words sank in, Dakota blinked. He gripped the handle of the dagger tightly before slipping it into one of the pockets hidden within his coat. Part of him wasn’t all that surprised. After all, he’d been drawn to her from the minute he’d first set foot in that club two years ago. But it sure would be easier to swallow if she didn’t act like she hated him most of the time. What were the odds that the one woman in the world meant to be his thought he was a dumb old square?

  Xavier was still staring at him, now looking concerned, and in spite of the situation, Dakota started laughing. “You wouldn’t have anything back there to help me tame a punk-rock wild child with a disdain for cowboys, would you?”

  “No,” Xavier said through a chuckle. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “That figures.” Dakota let out a sigh. “You know, all of a sudden…that gargoyle doesn’t seem so dangerous.”

  Chapter 6

  The sounds of the Clash roared through Trixie’s apartment. She had the speakers on full blast, but the music still wasn’t loud enough to drown out the one word that had been racing through her head since she woke up from that damned dream.

  Bloodmate.

  She’d woken up long before sunset, thanks to that freaking dreamscape incident with Dakota. Since falling back to sleep wasn’t an option, she’d put on her sports bra and leggings and spent the better part of two hours beating the shit out of the kickboxing stand in her living room. She pulled a roundhouse kick and let out a grunt when her foot connected with the battered red leather. It was well-worn, ripped, and torn from constant use. From the looks of it, she was going to need to replace the stand again soon. This was her fifth one in as many months.

  “Shit.” She ran her finger over the silver duct tape that was no longer holding one of the tears together and let out a sigh. “I should make Dakota pay for it.”

  She grabbed the kickstand with both hands and rested her forehead against the cool leather. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let the music wash over her. Usually listening to her favorite tunes helped cure any ill, but right now nothing could wipe away the reality she was facing.

  Having a bloodmate scared the hell out of her. It meant relinquishing control over her life and her choices. And that was unacceptable.

  The song came to an end, and in the moment of silence that followed, a light, hesitant knock sounded on the door of her apartment. She glanced at the skull-and-crossbones clock on the wall, a Christmas gift from Maya and Shane. Her brow furrowed. Who the hell would be at her door now? Sunset wasn’t for another hour.

  She turned off the
iPod and headed for the door, but Trixie didn’t have to open it to know who was on the other side. Suzie’s familiar scent, a clean flowery aroma like a fresh open field, was easy to identify even with the door closed. But Suzie never visited anyone. The girl only went from her little apartment to the Presidium offices where she worked and then home again.

  Curious and more than a little concerned, Trixie pulled the door open slowly, and sure enough, Suzie was standing there nervously. She had her long blond hair in a tight ponytail, and she was dressed in her usual conservative buttoned-up navy blue suit. Her face was free of makeup, and she looked like the skittish human that she’d been before Olivia had turned her. The girl was the only vampire that Trixie had ever known who was completely uncomfortable being a vamp.

  “Hey, Suzie.” Trixie gave her coven mate a smile and stepped back, gesturing for her to come in. “What a nice surprise. Come on in. I was just working out a little. You know, wouldn’t want Quesada to say that I wasted all that fight training he and Pete gave us.”

  Suzie nodded. She dropped her gaze to the floor before slipping past Trixie and into the apartment. She stood in the center of what had once been a living room, but was now strewn with an assortment of gym equipment. She nibbled her lower lip, hands clasped in front of her, and stared at her feet.

  “I’m surprised Damien isn’t with you. He’s usually hovering around you like your own personal bodyguard.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “He’s a good man.”

  “What’s up, Suz?” Trixie pushed the door closed with her toe and took off her weighted gloves before tossing them onto the small table by the door. “I’d offer you a seat but…I don’t really have one.”

  “It’s okay,” Suzie said in a barely audible voice. She glanced at Trixie briefly before looking at her interlaced fingers again. “I-I won’t stay long… I have something I need to tell you.”