Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

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Good, the Bad, and the Vampire Page 9

by Sara Humphreys


  Trixie was about to scream for Dakota again when he appeared in the doorway. His towering frame filled the small space, making him seem even bigger than he was. Eyes wild and weapons drawn, he looked like death incarnate. Without a word, he went to the body of the creature, knelt down, and turned the body so its contorted, twisted face was turned toward the ceiling. Fury carved into his features, Dakota pressed one hand to the beast’s chest and raised the other high. A gray dagger curled in his fist, he whispered, “Payback’s a bitch, but I always settle my debts.”

  “It’s already dead, Dakota.”

  “No it’s not.” He seethed as he drove the dagger down and into the chest of the fallen creature.

  Trixie held her daughter close and let out a shivering sound of awe as the body of the beast crackled and turned to gray stone before her eyes.

  “Now it’s dead.” He sheathed the knife beneath his coat. “It was in hibernation, trying to heal itself. The other one got away. I lost the trail about a half mile from the cabin, out on the main road. I think it had the baby with it, but I can’t be sure. The scent of that thing was too strong.”

  “We have to get Chelsea back to the Presidium.”

  Trixie didn’t have any clue what that thing was, but whatever it was had almost killed her daughter. She glanced out the window at the sky. The inky blackness of night was beginning to give way to the impending dawn, and panic clawed at her like the vicious self-defeating nightmare it was.

  Sunrise was coming and their odds of making it back to the city before that were dwindling.

  “She’s in bad shape, Trixie.” Dakota squatted down next to them. Gone was the vicious sentry. The man across from her stared at her with empathy-filled eyes, and gentleness edged the deep timbre of his voice. “She’s not gonna make it back to the city. You’re gonna have to turn her now.”

  “No.” Trixie shook her head furiously and held Chelsea tighter. “We can just give her some blood… It will heal her.”

  “She’s too far gone, baby.” Dakota shook his head. “Turnin’ her is her only chance.”

  “I-I can’t do it. We have to get her back to the city. Xavier can help without turning her. He can heal her. I know he can.” Her lips quivered as she stroked Chelsea’s cheek with one quivering finger. “Damn it all. I want her to have a normal human life. I wanted her to have what I never did.”

  “She was mixed up with gargoyles.” Dakota settled his large warm hand over her arm reassuringly. “I’d say she’s well past a normal human life.”

  “Gargoyles? That’s what that thing was?” Trixie flicked a glance at the hunk of stone in the middle of the room and a shiver whisked up her back. She’d heard about those creatures, about their viciousness and traitorous behavior, but she thought they were extinct. “What the hell was Chelsea doing hanging around with gargoyles? And why do you know so much about them?”

  “She may not have known what they were. They look human when they want to.” He sent a furious glare at the stone creature at the center of the room. “That’s how I knew it wasn’t dead. They shift to human form when they die, unless that dagger or the sun gets ’em first. That one was in hibernation tryin’ to heal itself.”

  Trixie sniffled and shook her head with her eyes squeezed shut, sending streaks of her mascara streaming down her cheeks.

  “I could do it,” Dakota said quietly. His serious silvery gaze met hers. “I’ve never turned anyone before but I know what to do. She should be in the transition sleep for at least two days. We can start the process now, stay here until sundown, and then get her back to the Presidium to let her ride it out.” Trixie was about to argue with him but his mouth set in a firm line before he whispered, “It’s her only chance, Trix.”

  Trixie pressed a hand to the bloody wound on Chelsea’s chest and grief welled. The beat of the girl’s heart weakened with every passing second. Dakota was right. Time was about to run out. She had to make a decision. Either let Chelsea die here and now, or turn her into a vampire, something she might not want. Olivia had given Trixie a choice that night in the tunnels all those years ago and Trixie hadn’t even hesitated. But not everyone embraced the life of a vampire with such enthusiasm.

  “Don’t you think she’ll want to watch her baby grow up?” Dakota’s voice drifted over Trixie like a warm blanket. “Would you give up the time you’ve had with her? It may not have been the way you wanted it but it was somethin’. You should allow Chelsea the same opportunity.”

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t trade one minute of watching her grow up,” Trixie whispered.

  While Dakota cleared off the bed to make room for Chelsea, Trixie leaned down and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. She slipped the necklace over Chelsea’s head and quickly put it on herself.

  “I love you, Chelsea.” The weight of the coin settled between her breasts, instantly putting her at ease to have this piece of her daughter with her. Somehow, some way, she knew it was all going to be okay. “I’ll give this back to you when you wake up.”

  “We’ll do it in here. There’s only the one set of windows to cover, and the hallway is long enough to keep out direct sunlight from the living room.” Dakota slipped his arms gently beneath Chelsea’s body and rose to his feet with the unconscious woman cradled against him like a child. He strode to the bed and laid her out carefully before settling her hands on her belly. “Those drapes aren’t heavy enough. We’re gonna need to cover up the windows as much as we can. She’ll be especially vulnerable during the transition.”

  Trixie nodded her understanding but didn’t move. Her feet felt like they were nailed to the floor and she didn’t take her eyes off Chelsea. Anxiety and uncertainty fired through her but one thought rose above her flood of concerns. Trixie could not let her daughter die.

  Dakota sat on the edge of the bed and gingerly lifted Chelsea’s arm to his mouth. Trixie was completely fixated as he bared his fangs, pierced the soft flesh on Chelsea’s wrist, and drank. After a few moments, when her heart had almost stopped beating, he licked the wound closed and laid her hand on her belly before using his fangs to make an incision on his own wrist.

  With heartbreaking gentleness, he cradled her neck and lifted her head from the bed, bringing his wrist to her lips. His life-giving blood dripped into her partially open mouth. Nothing happened; was there a chance it wasn’t going to work? But after a few seconds, Chelsea’s lips closed over his wrist and she began to drink. He must have determined that she’d had enough and pulled his wrist away. Dakota laid her head back on the pillow and rose from the bed.

  “Now we wait.” He pulled his sleeve down, the wound on his wrist already healed. “We’ll take her back to the city after sundown.”

  “That’s it?” Trixie asked nervously. She went to Chelsea’s side and found her stone still and totally lifeless—the sleep state of a vampire. “I’ve never seen anyone turned before. I mean, I saw Maya in the transition sleep but I didn’t see the actual blood exchange. It was…” Words escaped her as her gaze fell over her daughter’s motionless form. A dull ache bloomed in her chest and fresh tears welled when the full weight of Dakota’s gift sank in. “Thank you for saving her, Dakota.”

  Silence filled the room and he was gone.

  She gathered one of Chelsea’s hands in hers before stretching out on the bed next to her. How many times had she dreamed of sleeping by her daughter’s side, of being there to kiss away the nightmares? Her feeling of happiness was short-lived though. What might happen when Chelsea woke up? There would be confusion. There always was, even for vamps that knew what they had been through. But Chelsea was completely unaware of the choice Trixie had made for her.

  Would she thank Trixie for bringing her into the vampires’ world, or would she hate her for it?

  “Found what we need.” A moment later, Dakota reappeared with some black garbage bags and a roll of duct tape in hand. “None too
soon, either. It’s almost sunrise.”

  Trixie swiped at her tear-stained face while Dakota covered the windows. Silently and swiftly he made sure the room would be free of sunlight, but there was something different about him. A shift in his demeanor that gave her pause, as well as the way he seemed to avoid looking at her.

  “What is it, Dakota?” She studied him closely. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “I’m not sure if she knew.” He secured the edges of the garbage bags with the duct tape and nodded toward the stone creature on the floor. “About the gargoyles, I mean. Poor girl got the shock of her life today when that one came after her.”

  “How do you—” Trixie stopped mid-sentence and nodded as she realized how he could know such information. “Right. Her blood memories.”

  “They weren’t clear, at least not as clear as with most humans. It’s probably because she’d already lost so much blood, but hell if I know. My vampire training wasn’t exactly regular, but I promise, as her maker, I’ll do right by Chelsea,” he said quickly. “Plus, she’ll have that whole crazy coven helpin’ her out. Hell, Maya will probably want to give her a vampire makeover.”

  “Right.” Embarrassment and a flicker of jealously fired through Trixie. Dakota now knew her daughter better than she did. Now that he was Chelsea’s maker, this was only the beginning. “Thanks again for what you did. You didn’t have to do it. I mean, I know that being a maker is a big responsibility…and…you two will have a special bond now.”

  Trixie stilled when his eyes met hers and something in her belly fluttered with awareness. There was so much she wanted to say to him but all of the words were jumbled in her weary brain. Dakota picked up the stone gargoyle, hoisted it effortlessly onto his shoulder, and strode to the door. He paused for a moment in the open doorway before glancing over his shoulder at Chelsea.

  “You’re her mama, Trix,” Dakota said quietly. “There’s no bond on earth more special than that.”

  His tall form disappeared down the hallway and around the corner, leaving Trixie alone with her daughter once again. Lying by Chelsea’s side, she couldn’t help but wonder—perhaps there was one other bond worth exploring in her increasingly crazy life.

  Bloodmate?

  No. Trixie squeezed her eyes shut. That was the last thing she should be thinking about now. All that mattered was Chelsea’s transition and finding the baby. They were her family—her real family. Her gaze skittered over the tattered and bloodied nightgown, and a fresh wave of fury bloomed in her chest. It was going to be challenging enough for Chelsea to adapt to the change when she woke up. How awful would it be for her to awaken covered in bloody clothing?

  Trixie hopped off the bed and to the dresser in search of something clean. She settled on a pair of pink satin pajamas and then went to the little bathroom next door to get a towel so she could clean the blood from her daughter’s healing body.

  “Dakota,” she shouted from the doorway. “I’m going to clean Chelsea up and change her clothes, so give me a couple minutes. Okay?”

  No need to shout, darlin’. His sweet sexy drawl filled her head. I have to finish off our ugly friend here and then I’ll stand watch.

  Right. It’s been a while since I could telepath with anyone. It’ll take some getting used to, I guess. Trixie suppressed a laugh as she closed the door. What do you mean, you have to finish him off? I thought it was dead.

  A gunshot fired through the woods, and the shock of it sent Trixie to her daughter’s side in a flash.

  What the hell is going on, Dakota?

  Standing in front of the bed in a battle-ready stance, she was about ready to scream when Dakota’s voice once again slipped into her mind like a warm breeze.

  Now it’s dead as dirt. He laughed, a low gritty sound that tickled her from the inside out. Well, he’s more like a heap of gravel. Leave the bedroom door open so I’ll know when it’s safe to come back in. Then I think you should lie down there with your baby girl and get some shut-eye. I’ll stand watch in case the other fella comes back.

  Do you think it will?

  Maybe, but I doubt it. They don’t get dusted by sunlight like we do, but it does turn ’em to stone, so I suspect he won’t be a problem for now. But, if it comes back at any point, I’ll kill it. The steady, resolute tone in his voice instantly put her at ease. She had no doubt Dakota could and would protect them. You’ll be safe. Both of you. You have my word.

  The baby. Tears clogged her throat and the cold hand of fear curled around her heart. The other one…it has Rebecca, doesn’t it?

  Silence stretched out, seconds feeling like minutes, before he finally responded.

  Yes. But I swear to you, Trixie, we will get that baby back. Besides, if it wanted to kill her, it could have done that here.

  Why would it take her? Trixie cringed at the thought and went to her daughter’s side. What good would she be to them?

  Ransom, maybe? Chelsea had somethin’ they wanted but it beats the hell out of me what it was. His voice was edged with obvious frustration. I wish her blood memories weren’t so damn foggy. I only got a peek at what happened in here tonight. I didn’t see anythin’ about her life before today.

  Trixie’s blood ran cold and she curled her fingers around the coin. Chelsea said that the gargoyle tried to take the coin but it burned him. Trixie nibbled her lower lip and debated whether or not to tell Dakota about it. Not now. She was too tired and all she wanted to do was protect her girl. When they got back to the city and Chelsea woke up, then they could hash it all out.

  I’m sure she’ll tell us when she wakes up. Brushing a strand of hair off Chelsea’s face, Trixie touched Dakota’s mind once more. Saying thank you and swallowing her pride were two things she wasn’t really good at, but there was no doubt that this guy was due both. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for this.

  I’m sure we’ll come up with somethin’. A hint of humor laced his words and Trixie couldn’t help but smile. The sound of his voice in her head was becoming positively normal, and she had to admit she was beginning to enjoy his teasing. But for now, you just worry about tendin’ to your baby girl. You and I will have plenty of time later to…settle up.

  Chapter 8

  Dakota stood in the bedroom doorway all day, his senses alert and his gaze almost always pinned to the two sleeping women in the bed. Not just any women. One was his bloodmate and the other his new progeny—who was also his bloodmate’s biological daughter.

  Fate was a funny thing. For a guy who never wanted to be tied down, he’d gone and gotten himself a family overnight.

  He shook his head and let out a short laugh. It looked like he was beginning to fit right in with this weird city coven. He’d never considered becoming a maker. It was too much responsibility. A maker and its progeny were tied for the first one hundred years of the new vampire’s life. He’d never wanted to be beholden to anyone else in that way. But then he’d seen the heartbroken expression on Trixie’s face…and none of that mattered.

  All he could think about was easing her pain. It wasn’t even a choice, not really. Turning Chelsea was simply what he had to do to ensure Trixie’s happiness. Seeing Trixie in such distress was worse than anything he’d endured in his life—vampire or human. Hell, Dakota would rather get shot with silver ten times over than see her upset like that ever again.

  He moved closer to the bed, his gaze sliding over the faces of Trixie and her daughter. Spooned together, with Chelsea in the loving embrace of her mother, they looked so much alike. They had almost the same profile. The same upturned button nose, high cheekbones, and determined chin.

  Granted, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter, but there was no denying the family resemblance. A smile played at his lips because he sure as hell had gone and gotten himself saddled. For the first time in decades, he could actually build a home somewhere.


  He’d never thought his home would be in New York City.

  A dull throb in his gut told him the sun had begun its leisurely descent and night had started to yawn into existence. They’d made it through the day without any further sign of the gargoyle but he didn’t want to linger around here any longer than necessary. He was going to fly Chelsea back to the Presidium as soon as the sun was down.

  Trixie’s question nagged at him though. Why would that gargoyle run off with the baby? The only answer he could imagine was that it wanted a hostage to use as a bargaining chip. But for what? What could Chelsea possibly have that those two creatures were after?

  He surveyed the room, taking in as much as he could about his new progeny. She had simple tastes, and based on the way the house was decorated, she was frugal. They obviously weren’t coming out here to rob the woman. She didn’t have much to speak of. Even her blood memories showed little. Chelsea was a loner by all accounts, and other than images of the attack, he only saw memories of her boyfriend and her baby.

  Looking around the room, he realized there were no pictures of family or friends. Come to think of it, he didn’t recall seeing any out in the living room either.

  His brow furrowed.

  That was odd, wasn’t it? Especially in this age of the selfie when most humans recorded every waking moment with their camera phones, it seemed strange that a woman with a new baby wouldn’t have photos around. Combine that with her foggy blood memories, and all of the alarm bells started to go off. Hands at his sides, he scanned the wreckage in the bedroom. He had to be wrong about that. The woman had to have pictures somewhere.

  That was when he spotted a pink frame facedown on the floor by the closet near a pile of clothes that had been torn from their hangers. Dakota scooped up the frame and turned it over, broken pieces clinking onto the wood floor.

  Behind the shards of glass was a photo of Chelsea, smiling broadly and wrapped in the embrace of a man who was obviously her boyfriend. His hands were settled protectively over her swollen belly, and the guy looked as happy as one would expect him to be. It was exactly the kind of photo Dakota had hoped to find—but then again, it wasn’t. As Dakota recalled one of the last images Chelsea saw before she lost consciousness, the smile fell from his lips.

 

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