Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

by Sara Humphreys

  Had he seen this picture earlier, he never would have offered to turn her.

  Because if he was right, if Dakota did what he knew he would absolutely have to do as a sentry, he and Trixie would be over before they’d had a chance to begin. She’d hate his guts and he wouldn’t blame her.

  Fate was one sick, twisted bitch.

  “Hey.” Trixie’s sleepy voice cut through the room and yanked his gaze from the photo in his hands. He slipped it quickly into the pocket of his coat. “Have you been up all night?”

  Dakota nodded but said nothing.

  Trixie stretched her curvy, nimble body, reminding him of a cat working out the kinks of sleep. Desire stirred as she arched her back, the movement making her breasts heave toward him, teasing him with what he now knew he could never have. There was no way she’d want him once she knew about the task he was going to have to carry out.

  He must have had a funny look on his face, because she arched one brow and said, “What’s going on? You seem totally freaked out.” Worry flickered across her heart-shaped face. “Did something happen while we were sleeping?”

  “No.” He set his mouth in a tight line and shook his head, her pale brown gaze locked with his. Unable to look her in the eye, and with the ugly truth clawing at him from the inside out, he strode toward the door. “Sun’s down and it’s time to go. We gotta move. I’ll do a quick sweep of the area. You stay here with Chelsea.”

  “Hey, hang on.” Rising to her feet, she glanced at Chelsea briefly before closing the distance between them. “Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something? You’re acting weird.” Her hand curled over his, stopping him dead in his tracks. She pulled him toward her, dropping her voice to that low smoky tone he loved so much. Her body wavered achingly close, so that her breasts brushed over his arm with painful brevity. “I mean weirder than usual.”

  Dakota’s guts twisted in knots. He had to tell her the truth—and he would. But not yet. He couldn’t bring himself to spoil the long-awaited reunion with her daughter. No. He’d hold off and give Trixie at least a day or two of happiness. Besides, there was still a small chance he was wrong, and waiting would give him time to sort it all out.

  Once he got them both back to the safety of the Presidium, then he could break the news to her if he had to. His chest ached as he noted that the hard edges of her face had softened. That wall, the one he so desperately wanted to knock down, had finally started to fall. She was doing exactly what he’d hoped and opening up to him. His jaw clenched and he bit back the surge of rage that threatened to bubble up at the injustice of the situation.

  “We have to leave in five minutes,” he bit out.

  “I know we should get going,” she purred, pressing the soft flesh of her body against his and fitting against him with painful perfection. She laced her fingers through his and peered up at him from beneath a fan of dark lashes with an unmistakable look of invitation. “But we do have a little time. Remember all that getting-to-know-you stuff we started out in the woods?”

  Dakota bit back the growl of lust and frustration as his body hardened to the point of pain. Damn it all to hell. He had been a total fool for thinking that he could have some kind of a normal life. How in the world could he have allowed himself to believe, even for one second, that he could have a family?

  He was a sentry. A killer. An executioner.

  This coven of theirs might be able to operate outside the usual vampire community rules, but he couldn’t. A sentry didn’t have that kind of luxury.

  In that moment, Dakota faced the cold, hard reality of the life he’d chosen. He couldn’t pursue this bloodmate thing between him and Trixie any further. Not when she would surely hate him before the next sunrise.

  “No time for that now.” He slipped easily from her grasp but didn’t miss the flicker of hurt and confusion in her eyes. “You better pack up whatever you think she’ll want to take with her, because she can’t come back here until I hunt down the other one. I also want to bring her laptop with us. There could be something on there to help us figure out what they were after.”

  “Sure.” The word slid between her lips on a hiss, and any softness in her features vanished in a blink. Trixie ran both hands through her blond-and-blue-streaked hair before cracking her knuckles loudly. “Whatever you say, cowboy. You know…for a minute there, I almost forgot that you’re a sentry.”

  “Me too.” Dakota squared his shoulders and nodded curtly. “But I won’t be makin’ that mistake again.”

  * * *

  They made it back to the Presidium offices in record time and in stone-cold silence. Neither of them said a word, which was fine with Trixie. She’d never been so humiliated or confused in her entire miserable life. One minute Dakota had been a caring, self-sacrificing wiseass with a clear desire to get in her pants and the next he was cold, distant, and with a sudden urge for celibacy.

  She didn’t know which end was up, and that was not a feeling she enjoyed.

  Still in the transition sleep, Chelsea lay motionless in the examination room bed. The makeshift hospital room was adjacent to Xavier’s lab, and up until today, it hadn’t ever been used. The scientist flew back and forth between the lab and the exam room, taking blood samples from Chelsea and hooking her up to monitors. As much as Trixie hated the idea of her daughter waking up here instead of in her apartment, it was for the best. If the turn went bad, Chelsea would be in a safe place where they could handle it.

  Trixie sat on the edge of the bed holding her daughter’s hand and doing her best to ignore Dakota. He stood silently off to the right. She didn’t have to look at him to know he was staring at her; she could feel his steely gaze. The wiseass cowboy was gone and had been replaced by a stone-cold emotionless sentry.

  At least he’d had the decency to fill everyone in on what had happened and spared Trixie from having to relive it.

  “I’m sorry, Olivia,” Trixie said in an almost audible voice. “I know I should’ve stayed away from her but I—”

  “Stop it.” Olivia’s hand curled over Trixie’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “She’s your daughter, and truth be told, I feel like an asshole because I made you follow the stupid outdated laws of the Presidium.” Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “I can’t imagine staying away from Emily for one day, let alone years. I’m the one who’s sorry, Trixie. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “It’s okay.” Trixie fought the tears and nodded. “I know you were doing what you thought was best.”

  “Damn, girl.” Doug let out a low whistle. “You sure can keep a secret. I cannot believe you didn’t tell the rest of us that you had a daughter.”

  “I wanted to protect her,” Trixie said quietly. “Not from our coven but from the others. I figured that it was safer for Chelsea if no one else in the community knew she existed.”

  “And it wasn’t my secret to tell.” Olivia gave Trixie a familiar and reassuring smile. “But you are gonna have a lot of explaining to do with your sisters.”

  “I know.” Trixie swiped at her eyes. “Maya is gonna go totally nuts.”

  Olivia directed her attention back to Dakota. “Do we have cleanup to do in terms of the humans? What kind of evidence was left at the scene?”

  “It’s clean,” Dakota said curtly. “No evidence of the supernatural left behind. Any human who finds the place will likely assume she was abducted. The only blood at the cottage was Chelsea’s. There was none from the creature, and right now it’s a pile of gravel in the driveway.”

  “What a shit show.” Olivia’s weary voice sounded behind Trixie’s shoulder. “Gargoyles? They were the least trustworthy of all the supernaturals. Even the demons didn’t want to deal with those guys. What the hell was she doing hanging around with them?”

  “Chelsea didn’t know what they were. At least I don’t think she did. Her blood memories were foggy.” Dakota took
one step toward the bed but stopped when Trixie glared at him. He held up both hands. “I don’t believe she’s a sympathizer, is all I’m sayin’. Xavier has her laptop, and he and Pete are going through it.”

  “Still”—Olivia let out a weary sigh—“this could be a really messy turn if Chelsea doesn’t know about the supernatural world. Not only that, but we’ve got at least one pissed-off gargoyle to contend with. For all we know there could be more of them out there.”

  “Can someone clue me in?” Doug interjected. “I may be a czar but I’m still kind of new to supernatural craziness. What was the deal with these guys? I thought they were extinct.”

  “So did I, babe. So did everyone.” Olivia pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her black suit jacket and shot Dakota a narrow-eyed glance. “I’m wondering how our newest sentry has so much working knowledge about gargoyles.”

  “That’s classified,” Dakota said quickly. “With all due respect, Emperor Zhao is the only person I can discuss it with.”

  “Oh really?” Olivia let out a curt laugh and folded her arms over her breasts. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not particularly,” he drawled. “Let’s just say I’ve tangled with these assholes before.”

  “There was one incapacitated when you got to the cottage?” Doug asked. “Not much tangling then.”

  “It was.” Dakota flicked his icy gaze to Trixie briefly. “I meant before yesterday.”

  “That’s what I saw in the dream, isn’t it?” Memories of the dreamscape came flooding back. “You were attacked by a gargoyle the night you were turned. That’s what your maker saved you from. Why didn’t you tell me, Dakota? That smell…oh my God! You knew a gargoyle had been at Chelsea’s place!”

  “Yes. But in my defense I had no reason to think it would be back. For all I knew, a lone rogue had only passed through the area. They have no territory, no home, and are basically wanderers. Have been for centuries.” The angles and edges of his handsome face seemed sharper at the mention of that night. “I’d been attacked by one out on our ranch. My maker, Jonner, found me and turned me. In return, I was assigned to help him with his mission and I was only too happy to oblige.”

  Anger and confusion shimmied through Trixie. The son of a bitch knew a gargoyle had been in the area. That’s why he kept going out there. He didn’t care about her or her daughter.

  “So this was all about revenge?” Trixie seethed. “You were only after the gargoyle. You weren’t there to help me or Chelsea.”

  “Woman”—Dakota’s expression darkened—“you are so wrong it’s scary. I knew she was in danger. You too, for that matter. This isn’t about revenge. I’m a sentry for the Presidium and it is my job to keep this community safe.”

  “Maybe next time you could try being honest,” Trixie shot back. “If you had, then Chelsea might not even be in this mess.”

  “You wanna blame someone, darlin’?” He strode toward her but stopped short and pointed at her. “You can start with that thing that attacked her. It was after somethin’ that your daughter had.”

  Trixie’s hand went to the coin hidden beneath her shirt and her face heated.

  “Dakota is on to something,” Xavier shouted as he flew in from the lab. He landed on the floor next to Olivia and Doug. “Seems that our friend Chelsea was an avid numismatist—a collector. According to her Facebook page, she collects rare coins. Fascinating stuff. She had a photo album there full of the various coins she’s gathered over the years.”

  “Valuable?” Olivia asked.

  “Definitely.” Xavier nodded and looked from Trixie to Dakota. “Did you find anything like that when you were there?”

  Trixie opened her mouth to respond but Dakota spoke up first.

  “The place was trashed, but I’ll go back and have another look around.” He nodded curtly and turned his attention back to Olivia and Doug. “I would venture to say that if she had a collection like that, it would be in a bank or somethin’. The one other fact I can tell you about gargoyles is that their viciousness is matched only by their greed. Jonner stressed that above all. If Chelsea had a treasure trove of coins, you can be sure the gargoyles would want it.”

  “Interesting,” Xavier said. “Perhaps other collectors in the area have been attacked. I’ll have a peek into the human police database and see if there are any similar cases.”

  “Good idea,” Dakota said firmly.

  “I didn’t know Jonner but I’d heard about him. He was known for being something of a loner.” Olivia’s brow furrowed. “I remember hearing that he died not long after you were turned, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am, down in Texas. Jonner was a hell of a fighter and tough as they come, but even he couldn’t escape a silver bullet to the heart. He got dusted a year after I was turned. We were out on a hunt and got separated.”

  “Gargoyle?” Olivia asked.

  “Unlikely. Jonner was shot with silver, and in my experience, gargoyles like to use their claws.”

  “Ah, yes,” Xavier exclaimed. He pushed his glasses onto his head. “They have a poison on their claws. It has the same effect on us as silver—on the wolves too, for that matter. It can be lethal if it hits the bloodstream.”

  “Don’t do much for humans either,” Dakota said flatly. “Their poison may not affect humans, but the claws work just fine.”

  “It makes sense,” Xavier murmured. “After all, the gargoyles were charged with protecting humans. Humans have typically been prey for our kind and even for the wolves, especially during, shall we say, less-than-civilized times.”

  “These sons of bitches are anythin’ but civilized.” Dakota’s hands curled into fists. “I’ve never seen ’em do anythin’ other than cause damage. Besides, from what I heard, a bunch of ’em murdered their own royal family to get their stash of gold.”

  “I remember that story.” Olivia ran both hands through her red curls and made a snort of derision. “The royal family was slaughtered and the gold stolen. That was the beginning of the end for them. The gold vanished along with the culprits. According to legend, the gold was the source of much of the gargoyles’ power. Without it, their community completely dissolved into chaos.”

  “They killed their own kind and shirked their duties as protectors. You ask me, they deserve to be extinct.” Dakota clasped his hands in front of him, his expression cold. “Anyway, after Jonner was killed, there was no more trouble with these bastards around here. Until now.”

  As annoyed as Trixie was with Dakota for keeping his suspicions to himself, a pang of sympathy burned in her chest when Dakota spoke of his maker. She couldn’t imagine how horrible that must have been for him to be left alone so early in his vampire life. How could she not have known he’d suffered such a loss? She didn’t know much about the man who was supposed to be her bloodmate.

  Maybe he wasn’t wrong about that whole getting-to-know-each-other stuff.

  “That all happened around the last time there’d been a confirmed sighting,” Olivia said quietly. “I’m sorry, Dakota. Losing your maker is never easy.”

  Olivia wasn’t simply saying it for the sake of saying it. She’d lost her own maker a couple of years ago, and even though Victor had been a stodgy old coot, it had still hurt Olivia deeply.

  “I managed.” Dakota squared his shoulders. “All I found was his sentry dagger in a pile of dust. When I got sworn in as a sentry, I asked to keep his instead of gettin’ one of my own. Seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Sorry, man.” Doug slipped his arm around Olivia’s waist. “That must’ve been tough.”

  “That’s ancient history,” Dakota said evenly. He shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the attention on him and his past. “Ma’am, if everyone thinks these things are extinct, I think it might be better if we left it that way. Keep the buzz to a minimum. I don’t want the one that got away to know the Pres
idium is lookin’ for it. Odds are that it has no idea I’m a sentry or that I’m on to it.”

  Olivia and Doug exchanged a look Trixie had seen before, and she could tell that they were telepathing with each other. A twinge of jealousy wiggled under the surface. Part of her wanted to reach out to Dakota but he’d been so cold and distant that the idea of letting him into her head wasn’t appealing. It was bad enough to get rejected face-to-face; why risk an intimate telepathic connection? Getting shut down that way would sting twice as badly.

  “Okay.” Olivia nodded and slipped her phone back in her pocket. “Given your past experience with the gargoyles, I’ll hold off on calling Zhao.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Please, stop with the ‘ma’am’ stuff.” She gave him a weary smile. “I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Olivia. One week, Dakota. That’s it. Believe me, I’d much rather call him and tell him the situation has already been handled, but we can’t risk a bigger mess than we already have. You’ve got a week to find the gargoyle and get Chelsea’s baby back. If you don’t find it by then, I’m going to have to call the emperor.”

  “No problem.” Dakota nodded curtly. “I’ll put it down the minute I find it.”

  Panic fired through Trixie when she thought of that tiny baby in the midst of a battle between Dakota and a gargoyle.

  “You’re going to kill it? Hang on. That thing has Chelsea’s baby.” She hopped to her feet and shot Dakota a withering look. “You are not going to go at it with guns and fangs blazing, cowboy. Not when it has my granddaughter.”

  Dakota’s hard expression faltered. For a split second Trixie saw empathy but it vanished as swiftly as it came. Arms at his sides, Dakota stared her down in silence. Fury buzzed in her chest, and she stalked around the bed toward him.