Nightfall

by Joey W. Hill

  Yes, Quinn. Fuck me. Make me forget. Let me be who I am with you, even if I can't be that with anyone else. I'm safe inside your heart. They can't change that.

  Everything inside him broke open at that, and he thrust into her, deeper, trying to get all the way to her soul. The clasp of her arms, the clutch of her fingers, her breath on his neck, told him he might already be there. God, she felt so good. Her nails dug in, telling him she needed to feel his demand. But she wasn't guarding her mind so much now, another indication of her weakness that helped him restrain himself, slow down and be even more tender, the kiss drawing out into a nuzzling of lips, causing her to sigh into his mouth. He had the honor of her trusting him to take her all the way home, relying on his strength to move them together, work her up to climax. He held his own back. He hadn't been there for her. He didn't deserve any pleasure. She deserved it all.

  The climax was a trembling, near-miss kind of thing that just made it over the pinnacle, hampered by her physical state, but he relished the glazing in her eyes, that immersion in the sensations that took her away for just a moment from what had happened. She was weak and shuddering in his arms afterward, making him wonder if she needed more blood. He'd already recovered from what she'd taken earlier. He'd never been so glad of the rejuvenating power of being a full servant.

  "I might need a little more," she agreed. "Let's go back to the downstairs bed."

  "Okay." After making sure she was all clean and rinsed, he switched off the shower and carried her out to the chair, wrapping her in a big towel before drying himself and pulling on his jeans. When he sought some clean linens for her cot, she watched him with those mysterious blue eyes. He'd left his shirt off and, as he moved back and forth in the small bathroom, her fingertips trailed over his bare skin.

  "You didn't come," she said.

  "No, Mistress." He gave her a wry smile. "You didn't say I could."

  She studied him as he lifted her again. The fact she didn't say she could walk on her own told him she was still too worn out. The anger was back and a lot of other things too, unleashed by that tender moment. He should be glad for what he could be for her right now, but the alpha male in him couldn't rest with that. Damn it, he had to do something. He couldn't just be here to pick up the pieces.

  "Quinn." Her voice was a caress against his throat as her arms slid around his neck again, holding him as he carried her back down the stairs, through the bar and to the cellar once more. Setting her in the chair she had beside the cot, he made up the bed, kicking the blood-soaked covers and blankets aside, probably with more passion than was necessary. Once she was asleep, he'd get a mop and clean up the blood spatter, get rid of those clothes, so she'd wake in an environment that didn't show the violence that had been done to her.

  He guessed there was no way he could hide the shift in his emotional tide, but fortunately she seemed to be dozing again, thank God. He tucked her in, but as he began to slide away, her hand latched on to his arm.

  "Stay."

  "I'm not leaving, Mistress. I just want to get these sheets out of here where you don't have to see them."

  Her eyes opened, focused on his face. He sensed her delving even deeper and wished he could block his thoughts the way she could. The way she had. Fuck, she'd been going through this while he was checking out a damn bull, having drinks with his buddies...

  "What would you have done if you were here?" she said softly.

  It was a harsh kick to the balls, one that made him step back. "Apparently nothing you think would be of use," he said tightly. Bending, he picked up the sheets, balling them up in his arms. He took several steps away from her, fully intending to take them up to the laundry room and stay there until he could get himself under control. He made it five steps before he drop-kicked them against the wall and spun around.

  "Damn it, Selene, you should have reached out to me."

  "And watch Laurent kill you in front of me?" She pushed herself up with obvious effort, though her eyes had gone cold as polar cap snow. "Is that what your testosterone demands?"

  "It's what you need and want that matters."

  "No, obviously not. Not if you're more focused on what happened yesterday than what's happening right now." She put her hand on the clean sheets. "This is what I needed from you. You can't control what happens between vampires. I have precious little control of it myself. What I need is a safe port, Quinn."

  "Someone who keeps your heart safe. Not your body."

  "Yes," she said harshly. "In my world, finding someone who keeps your heart safe is a far more difficult task, believe it or not. I'm sixty-two and you're the first I've found up to the task."

  That brought him up short. That and the broken note in her voice, despite her lifted chin and eyes shooting sparks at him. If she wasn't so obviously exhausted, her gaze said she was ready to tie him up and beat him herself. Then he imagined Laurent doing that to her, only with far less pleasurable results than he'd experienced at her hands. His rage descended into a frustration so raw and jagged he felt like he was being torn open from the inside.

  He came to her, knelt by the bed, framed her face in his hands. "How can I be who I'm not, Mistress? How can I care for you if I can't protect you?"

  His grandfather had taught him that it was a man's responsibility to protect and defend women. To always treat them with the greatest respect. The absolute opposite of everything he saw when he looked into her battered face.

  Her mouth softened and she touched his face in return. "You care for me in the very way you are, Quinn. That's what I need. Trust me to know how to handle certain things until you can figure them out."

  He sighed, put his forehead against hers. They stayed that way a bit, then he realized her arm was shaking. With a quiet oath, he eased her back down. "I'm sorry. You don't need to deal with my crap. You need more blood, right?"

  "Later. Just lie with me right now. Sleep with me. Do laundry later." A faint, humorless smile touched her lips. "The smell of blood doesn't bother vampires. Promise me you won't leave me until dawn. Stay with me until I'm really asleep."

  "I promise." He got into the narrow cot with her, folding her in his arms, her backside nestled up against him. She gave him a playful little rub, reminding him his cock was still unassuaged, but he didn't care about that. Not right now.

  Good. Because I may keep you suffering for a while for yelling at your Mistress.

  He made his lips pull into a stiff smile and brushed a kiss over her temple. Since he could feel that lassitude pulling her down toward slumber again, he rocked them both, humming to her in an off-tune, meandering way, just old campfire songs, things to soothe them both. Her pulse slowed, her breathing changing to an even rhythm.

  "Promise..." she breathed.

  He didn't know what she was asking him to promise. That he wouldn't leave her until dawn, or something different, but he knew what to answer.

  "I promise."

  Wasn't that what it boiled down to in the end? An open-ended, blank check between two people meant to be together. I promise to be whatever you need, love you endlessly, never let you down.

  He knew she'd been trying to tell him he hadn't failed her, but in his world, no one treated a woman like that and got away with it. Laurent wasn't going to be the exception, even if he was a goddamn vampire.

  Though Quinn relished holding her, he also chafed at the time. But Laurent had to go to ground as well, right? Every vampire movie Quinn had ever seen said that was when he'd be most vulnerable. That was when Selene was the most vulnerable, after all, and why she holed up here behind a locked door.

  When he finally slipped out of her arms, it was a couple hours past dawn, the time when she was in that deep sleep from which only dusk would wake her. Adjusting the blankets over her, he stroked her hair from her face. She was completely out of it, a deep, restorative slumber. Which worked better for his purposes, as insane as they might be. But then a man who put himself on the back of an animal that outweighed him t
en times knew a few tricks. He didn't rely on strength as much as smarts and quickness, anticipating what his opponent might do. That's what he'd do here.

  First up was getting some intel on this particular bull. Once he was in his truck and well away from the saloon, he pulled off to the side of the road, took a few deep breaths and called up Dix.

  "Mornin'," Dix drawled. "Miss us already?"

  Under other circumstances, Quinn might have struggled with a response. Figuring out how the typical male razzing worked with a guy who'd had his mouth on your dick like a vacuum hose--all while getting his own brains fucked out by his Master--presented a unique challenge. However, today Quinn had other concerns than managing his own paradigm shifts. "Have the Region Masters come to a decision?"

  "They said they'd let Butch know by tonight. Any sign of Laurent?"

  "Yeah. Big time." Weighing the pros and cons of it, he nevertheless let Dix know in bald terms how he'd found Selene. Dix let out a curse.

  "Son of a fucking bitch. Goddamn, Quinn. I'm sorry. I don't think Butch had any clue he'd be that sadistic of a fuck. Usually they show a little more restraint, especially since she's an asset to his territory."

  "Apparently him proving he's not going to be made a fool is way more important to him. So Butch knew he was coming?" He might just have two overlords to kill.

  "He suspected Laurent might try to confront her ahead of time, get his licks in before a decision is made. He warned Selene like he promised, offered her sanctuary at the house, which she refused. So he figured if Laurent showed, he might be a bit heavy-handed, but...damn, Quinn. He had no idea. He's not going to be happy about this."

  "Well his happiness is at the top of my too little, too damn late list."

  "Quinn." Dix's tone of warning was expected, but it was more than that which had Quinn reining back further venom. Dix's genuine regret on his Master's behalf reminded Quinn that Selene still had an ally they couldn't alienate. He let another, even more important worry rise to the top. "Did I do everything she needed? Does she need anything other than blood?" Anything other than someone capable of defending her? He pushed that jagged feeling down viciously.

  "No, you did good. It's horrible and miraculous at once, how much of a beating they can take and heal up. The day me and Butch tussled with the bull, that asshole threw me out of the way and took a horn right in his gut, pinned him against the fence. Would have killed a human, but he took a good draught of my blood, about a day's worth of sleeping like the dead, and didn't even have a scar to brag about. That kind of pissed him off."

  The fond affection in Dix's voice might have amused Quinn on a good day. Today wasn't that day.

  "So she should be fully restored if she gets a good deep sleep." If she was completely oblivious to his doings, all the better.

  "Should do."

  "Will Laurent stay in the area until a decision is made, or is she expected to go back to him under her own steam if it's ruled in his favor?"

  "She could, but I expect if he cared enough to come down and do that, he's somewhere in the area, waiting for the decision so he can take her home if it goes his way. But--" Dix broke off abruptly. "You're not asking on your Mistress's behalf."

  "What gave it away?" Quinn bared his teeth.

  "Okay, no bullshit now. I need you to listen up, Quinn." Dix's deadly serious tone was sharp enough to catch Quinn's divided attention. "Listen and listen good. You go after a vampire, there is no upside to that. He'll kill you and give your life as much thought as you spitting toothpaste in the sink. Though from what you've told me about him, he'll take particular pleasure in it, because he'll know it's another way to hurt her."

  That last part gave Quinn, pause, but then he remembered seeing her bloody face, the torn skin of her back. "What happens if I kill him?"

  "You won't. Damn it, Quinn, you're pissed off, I get it. But you're so new to this world. Going up against a vampire isn't like some heroic David and Goliath story. There are a handful of vampire hunters out there, and very few of them have any kind of success. Even those who do don't have long life spans. No need for a retirement plan in that profession."

  Vampire hunters? So Selene could have human enemies he'd have to watch out for? He'd file that away to deal with another time and focus on the part of that he could use. "But some have managed it."

  "Yeah. With exceptional talents for subtlety and surprise, capital ET. No offense, but you sound as if you're in about as subtle a mood as a Sherman tank. A vampire is about ten times stronger than a human and, if you hadn't noticed, they're faster than cars at top speed when they want to be. There are only a couple ways to take them out, a stake or decapitation, and neither of them is easy to pull off. Got it?"

  "They experience pain the way we do though. It slows them down."

  "Yeah, it can."

  "I wasn't asking. I just found my Mistress in a blood-soaked bed, her skin torn to shreds. I saw firsthand."

  "You should keep focusing on her care. Stay at her side, Quinn. Trust me. That's the best thing you can do for her." Dix blew out a breath. "I know you're not fucking listening to me. But promise me you'll remember one thing."

  "What's that?"

  "The most important thing a servant can do for his vampire is serve them. It means a lot more than bringing them a drink or having sex with them. I saw the connection between the two of you. You were starting to get everything that word means. Part of it is sometimes putting away what your gut tells you to do so you can fulfill the most vital part of serving them."

  Quinn didn't want to hear it, but he bit out the words. "And that is?"

  "Staying alive," Dix said bluntly. Then he cut the connection.

  Quinn put the phone down. For a few brief seconds, he sat in the truck, staring at the empty road, the open land around him. In the distance he could see cattle grazing. His hands would already have been up a couple hours, their day well started. He longed to be out working the cattle today, feeling the simple pleasures of sweat and hard work. Anticipating the pleasure of a butterfly landing light on his hat, fluttering around his face so close she sometimes brushed his lashes with her wings.

  But today he had other things that had to be done. The hands knew how to manage without him when needed. They knew what was expected of them.

  As far as what was expected from a servant, Dix had been pretty damn clear about that. Quinn was supposed to sit on his thumbs and do nothing except clean the blood off his Mistress. But Quinn couldn't do that. He couldn't get past it, couldn't not act. The whole world would be better without this bastard in it. He'd never taken a man's life, never even contemplated such a thing, but there was a code a man lived by, and standing back when some bastard beat the ever-loving shit out of the woman he loved wasn't part of it.

  So where would a vampire who believed New York City was the center of the universe decide to stay? He'd compromise his standards big time, staying anywhere in Nightfall, but he'd want to stay close to Selene. Because of his age, he'd be like Butch, not needing to be underground in daylight, but he'd need a place where his privacy was guaranteed, where he could make it full dark during the day. There weren't a great many hotels around Nightfall that would work for that, but Quinn could think of one location that was ideal.

  He clicked open his phone again, looked up information. After the operator put the number through, the phone rang several times. Just when Quinn was about to curse, the line picked up, an older man with a smoker's growl answering.

  "Morning, Don," he said, with a casualness he didn't feel in the least. "I figured you'd be minding the desk early. Hey, did you rent out one of your cabins to a fellow out of New York? Yeah, I have some business to conduct with him and I thought he mentioned your place, but I dropped his darn card while working yesterday and wanted to make sure I had the right place to look him up..."

  It was a long shot, but his instincts had been sound. His fingers tightened on the phone as Don verified that four men meeting that description had checked
in under the name Claudio Beringer. They'd rented two of Don's cabins.

  After he concluded the call, Quinn put the truck in drive and headed for Last Chance, his mind whirling. There were four of them, but three were vampires. They had to sleep during the day. Ironically, Claudio would be his biggest danger. He remembered how much stronger Dix had been, the benefit of him being a third mark longer, but he also remembered what Dix had said about the vampire hunters who had succeeded.

  Skill, subtlety. Cunning.

  As dumb as it sounded, since he was connected to a vampire himself, he wished he knew the number for one of those hunters to get more input, but he'd figure this out. Yeah, he preferred the Sherman tank method, but he could do the unexpected. If it increased his chances for success, he'd become the most cunning bastard that ever lived. Laurent had weaknesses. Sunlight. Arrogance.

  His mind full of ideas, he accelerated. He had to get some things from the ranch, get off property without Annette giving him the third degree and be onto Don's property as soon as possible. Daylight was burning.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "They rented the ones on the far end of the property, Quinn," Don had said. "You can get there from the service road I use for the landscape maintenance, save you having to take the main drive."

  Even with planning, he'd have to think on his feet, adapt to whatever situation he found when he got there. Laurent liked having an entourage, being the head guy. So would he share his space with the other three? Quinn was pretty certain he wouldn't bed down with two vampires he considered his underlings.

  Again, Claudio was the wild card. Would Laurent want his servant near while he slept, or would he relegate him to sleeping with the others?

  A vampire might keep his servant in the same room to watch his back during daylight, particularly in a new environment. Or would he? He didn't see Laurent having the same relationship with Claudio that Quinn had with Selene. If Laurent figured there was little danger to a vampire here in the middle of Nowhere, Texas, and the door could be bolted to keep out maid service, maybe he'd want to underscore Claudio's underling status by having him stay in the cabin next door. After all, Claudio could just as easily keep a daylight lookout out the window over there.