“I’m no slouch when it comes to self-defense,” she muttered. She pointed a slender finger at him. “I carried a dagger for my job, remember?”
“A dagger that you used to draw blood for your resurrection ritual, not for defense,” he pointed out. “Six months ago you wouldn’t have made it past the first horde.”
Her lips tightened. She didn’t say anything for a few moments. “You might be right,” she responded quietly. She blinked. “I don’t think I’ve done anything except give you a hard time about it.” She sighed and dropped back into the recliner.
He hated to see that some of the fight seemed to have left her. He’d much rather have her feisty than defeated.
“I should have said this a long time ago—thank you.” She crossed her arms. “Having said that, I’m not leaving Zombie Central to move into Vampire City. At least with zombies I can run to get away from them.”
“Not if you’re surrounded,” he muttered. “Kimber, I don’t think you—”
“Just stop, please. It’s not only that your commune buddies would like to sink their fangs into me. It’s also that there are so many of them.” She gestured toward the back of the apartment. “I lived alone, before the Outbreak. Now I have at least two, sometimes three people around me all the time. I can’t go anywhere to get some alone time and still feel relatively safe, except for the bathroom, and it’s freezing in there right now, so spending more time in the bathroom than necessary really isn’t an option.” She picked at the arm of the chair. “It’s making me crazy. Moving in with you would exacerbate that tenfold.”
Duncan could understand her desire for solitude. He preferred being alone most of the time, and his quarters allowed that. “The difference is that I have three bedrooms, a den, a private walled-in patio, and twenty-four-seven security that patrols the grounds to make sure no zombies get into the compound.” He saw a slight wavering in her eyes and pressed his advantage. “You could have your own bed. Your own room.” Never mind that he’d prefer she share his bed. For now he wanted to get her where she’d be safe. At least, safer.
None of the vampires at the enclave would dare cross him, not if they wanted to continue to exist. As Maddalene’s second in command, he had nearly as much authority as she did. In many matters he did have as much authority as she. No one doubted he was the alpha dog. A few had challenged him over the years, but he’d put them down.
He leaned forward. “What you need to remember is this: you’re important to Maddalene. The last thing she wants is for you to come to harm. Anyone who touches you wouldn’t live past dawn.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s great, Duncan. But I’d be dead, too, wouldn’t I? So it’s hardly a comfort to know that my killer would pay with his life. I’d rather know that some sort of preventive measures are in place.” She stared at him. “Are there any?”
He scowled. “Short of wrapping you up in chain mail…no. There aren’t.” While he recognized that she had a point, it was galling that she wouldn’t trust him to take care of her. Galling and…hurtful. That surprised him. He didn’t want to look at the emotion too closely, so he pushed it to the side.
“Then I’m not moving in with you.”
He heard the bathroom door open, and Natalie walked down the hallway, dressed in a floor-length flannel robe, rubbing a towel on her hair. “Just so you know,” she said with a glance at Kimber, “there’s no more hot water. Hey, Duncan,” she added, looking at him. “How are you?”
She at least seemed happy to see him.
“I’m fine, thanks.” He motioned toward Kimber. “Just trying to get your roommate here to see reason.” He wasn’t above using her friend against her if it advanced his position.
“Still trying to get us to move into the viper pit, huh?” Natalie stood with her back to the stove.
“Yes, he is,” Kimber said. “And I’ve already told him no thanks.”
“Hmm. Well, for what it’s worth, I agree with you. Sorry, Duncan.” She walked past the dining room, tossing the damp towel on the back of one of the chairs on her way to the small kitchen. “I’m going to start on dinner, such as it is.” She paused and looked at Kimber. “I’m going to need to light a couple more candles so I can see what the hell I’m doing, all right?”
“Sure. You want some help?”
“No, I’m good.”
Kimber watched Natalie putter around in the kitchen for a few seconds before she turned her attention back to Duncan. She pulled her feet up and sat cross-legged, hunching over with her elbows on her knees. Looking at Duncan, she muttered, “Anyway, going back to what we were talking about, I don’t get why you care so much.”
It was a question she’d asked him several times over the last six months. He’d dodged it each time. How could he tell her that he needed her to make contact with the Unseen? That he was desperate for a spiritual connection of some kind, any kind, so he could feel alive again? Feel human again. For her, or anyone else for that matter, to know that about him would paint him as weak. And he couldn’t have that.
It was better for him that everyone assumed he had the hots for Kimber. And that conclusion wasn’t too far from the truth. It just wasn’t all of the truth.
The truth was, she was his second chance at life. To be a better man. And he was going to take that chance.
Chapter Three
I’ve told you. You’re important to Maddalene.” Duncan stretched his legs out in front of him.
Kimber studied him. “And she’s important to you,” she finally murmured.
“She is.” He slouched down until he could rest his head against the back of the sofa and still be able to see her. “She saved my life. A couple of times.”
“You’ve never told me this.” She leaned forward and draped her hands over her ankles. “What happened?”
He clasped his hands across his belly and thought back over his past. He wouldn’t tell her the whole story, because there was too much of it that was unsavory. He hadn’t been a very good man when he’d been human, and the first few decades of his life as a vampire hadn’t done anything to improve his character. He wasn’t going to share what he was ashamed of. That shit needed to stay buried in his memories.
“I’m originally from Chicago; did you know that?” At the shake of her head, he went on. “I grew up on the north side, in a predominantly Irish neighborhood. The area had the highest crime rate in the city. Not joining a gang wasn’t an option for boys, especially if you were Irish.” He paused to gather his thoughts.
“So you were part of a gang?”
Duncan gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Part of the mob, actually. One of my best friends was Dean O’Banion. We started out as sluggers for the Tribune, then later the Examiner.”
“I’m sorry, sluggers?”
“Hired thugs who beat up newspaper vendors who didn’t sell our newspaper.” It wasn’t something he was proud of, but it had happened. By way of explanation he said, “Chicago before 1910 was rough, and it only got worse with Prohibition.”
“I see.” Kimber’s tone was noncommittal, giving away nothing of what she felt. “Go on, please.”
“Our little group of thugs became known as the North Side Mob, and as Prohibition continued, we were direct rivals of The Outfit, Al Capone’s gang.”
Her eyes widened. “You were part of all that?” She blew out a quiet whistle from between pursed lips. “I had no idea. Is that when you met Maddalene?” A wide grin broke out on her face. “She was a gangster’s moll, wasn’t she?” She gave a quick nod and tapped a finger against her chin. “I bet she was a gangster’s moll. She probably went by the moniker Maddy the Moll. Or Long Maddy. Or Mad Maddy. Any of those would’ve worked, though I think maybe Mad Maddy is the best one. It’s the truest descriptor.”
“She wasn’t a gangster’s moll.” He shook his head at her silliness. “Do you want to hear my story, or would you rather keep ragging on Maddalene?”
“I can do both,” she responded with a smirk.
“I’m an excellent multi-tasker.”
Duncan scrubbed a hand over his chin.
“Okay, okay, I recognize that sign. Go ahead with your story. I’ll try to behave.”
He sincerely doubted that was possible. “Capone had Dean murdered in 1924. A few years later Bugs Moran became the leader.” He paused and stared at his hands. He’d never particularly liked Moran. O’Banion had been tough, even cruel, but in those days that was what was needed. Weiss had been just as tough. Moran, on the other hand, had been cruel not out of necessity but out of desire. He’d thrived on the misery he could bring to others, especially Capone.
“I won’t lie,” he went on in a low voice. “They were horrible years, full of violence and infighting within the North Side Mob, and the killings of gang members on both sides.” Unfortunately there had been a never-ending supply of local recruits—young men looking for fortune or fame or power. If that fateful day in February hadn’t happened, if public sentiment hadn’t turned against Capone, things in Chicago would probably have gotten a hell of a lot bloodier.
Duncan heard Natalie still moving about the kitchen, and the apartment was beginning to smell like hot dogs so dinner, such as it was, was well underway. He glanced over his shoulder to see her staring at him. Even though he and Kimber were keeping their voices quiet, the place was small enough that Natalie could hear what they were saying. That was all right. She had a right to know about him, too.
He turned back and looked at Kimber. “You ever hear about the Saint Valentine’s Day massacre?” He waited for Kimber’s nod before he continued. “Valentine’s Day, 1929. Capone called for a truce. Another one.” Duncan spread his hands. “We were always operating under truces that were always being broken, usually by Moran.” He clasped his hands over his belly again. “Capone called for a meeting. There was about four inches of snow on the ground that day.” He gave a low chuckle. “I remember how cold my feet were, and I was cursing Capone and his damned Outfit for dragging us out into it. So much so that I’d delayed leaving my apartment.” He shook his head. “Just as I turned the corner, I saw a cop car behind the warehouse. I figured it was a raid, so I kept on going.”
“But the cops were really Capone’s men. I remember that from my American history classes.” Kimber’s mouth formed a small O. “Oh my God. You…you could’ve been killed.”
Duncan grimaced. “If I hadn’t been running late, I would have been inside the building when Capone’s boys came in. So would Moran.”
“Is that…” Her slender throat moved with her swallow. “Is that when Maddalene found you?”
“Several months later,” he said. “Capone hadn’t quite given up on the idea of making Moran a dead man. He just figured he’d have to be sneakier about it. People were tired of dodging bullets from Tommy guns,” he said in a dry tone.
“Yeah, I imagine so.”
“So Moran put together a plan to take care of Capone.” He sat up straight, clasping his hands between his knees, and stared at his fingers. “Three of us went to a restaurant Capone was known to frequent. Things didn’t go as planned.” He glanced up at her. “I managed to get away, but I was wounded. Badly. I made it about two blocks before I collapsed.”
Sympathy swirled in her eyes. She leaned forward, her fingers twisting in her lap. He wondered at the emotions he sensed from her. Would she have been sorry to hear some man she’d never met had died in a back alley long before she’d been born? Before even her grandparents had taken their first breaths?
Her lips parted. “Duncan. My God.”
He grimaced. “I was praying, I can assure you. God answered my prayers in a way I never saw coming.”
Kimber frowned then bit out a curse. “That’s when Maddalene found you.”
He gave a nod. “It was Black Monday. October 28th, 1929. If I’d died in that alley, it would have been a fitting end to a life that hadn’t been well lived.” As Natalie walked into the room, carrying two plates, he paused.
She handed Kimber a plate with a hot dog and a spoonful of beans then sat down on the other end of the sofa with her own plate in her hand. “I always feel strange, eating in front of you without offering you anything.” She held out her plate. “Do you want some?”
“He doesn’t eat food, Nat.” Kimber picked up the hot dog. She brought it to her mouth and her tongue came out to lick a drop of juice at the end.
Duncan bit back a groan. There was another piece of meat he’d like to see her do that to. He shifted in his seat.
She took a bite and closed her eyes on a moan. When she swallowed the bit of hot dog she opened her eyes. “God, this tastes really good. There’s nothing quite like a zombie apocalypse to make you appreciate the simple things.”
Natalie let out a sigh and looked at Duncan. “It just feels weird, eating in front of you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Duncan assured her. “I’ll…grab a bite later.”
Kimber narrowed her eyes.
He rarely joked, and when he did she never seemed to appreciate his efforts.
“Don’t even think about getting a bite here, buddy. I’ll bust your balls.”
“I’d like for you to try,” he responded in a low voice. He was stronger and faster than she was, and his reach was longer. He’d have her flat on her back unable to do anything but plead for mercy. Which he might or might not give. He wanted another taste of that luscious mouth, wanted to trail his lips and tongue all over her body. Maybe even turn her luscious ass red with his hand before taking her from behind. His cock stirred against his thigh. He grimaced and shifted position again. “Where was I?” he asked. “Oh, yes. I was in that alley, lying amid trash and dirt, and I looked up to see the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on.”
Kimber snorted. “Sorry,” she muttered at his sharp look. “I don’t disagree that physically she’s beautiful. What’s on the inside kinda ruins it for me, though. She had her vampires corner my parents like rats. They never had a chance.”
He couldn’t disagree with her, but she didn’t know Maddalene the way he did. Like O’Banion back in the day, there was a reason for her cruel nature. “She found me in that alley and she turned me. She saved my life that day.”
“She made you a vampire.” Kimber shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how that’s a good thing.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You and I would never have met, if she hadn’t. I’d have been moldering in my grave these past eighty-four years.”
Her expression went from startled to sad to one that suggested she didn’t think that would have been a bad thing. When he frowned, she pressed her lips together but then a big grin broke out. “I’m sorry, but the look on your face…” She laughed, but stifled it quickly.
Natalie spoke up. “I’m glad you’re here, Duncan.”
“Thank you, Natalie.” He shot a pointed look Kimber’s way.
She giggled a few more seconds then got herself under control. “Really, I kid. As much as you irritate the hell out of me most of the time, I don’t regret that we know each other.”
She apparently didn’t wish his permanent address was a cemetery, so at least there was that.
She shifted her position, crossing her legs, and began swinging one sock-clad foot in the air. “You said Maddalene saved your life a couple of times.”
“Yes. The second time…” A knock sounded on the door. He stood, frowning when both Kimber and Natalie jumped up, their bodies tense. As Aodhán came out of the bedroom, sword in hand, Duncan’s scowl deepened. “So now you think they’ll knock on the door?”
“It could be someone looking to steal our food, smartass,” Kimber muttered.
“Or they might want to rape us,” Natalie added, her tone much more serious than Kimber’s had been.
Duncan knew their fears were very realistic. Some men had taken advantage of the breakdown of society to allow their true natures out. He flashed his fangs. “I doubt a rapist would be polite enough to knock. Regardless,
they’ll have to get through me first.”
“And me.” Aodhán stood to one side of the door and gave Duncan a nod.
Between the lingering smell of hot dogs and the ever-present though faint smell of decomposition from zombies that always permeated the air—too faint for most humans to detect but more than enough for a vampire—Duncan couldn’t get a good enough scent of whoever it was on the other side of the door. With a smooth motion, he twisted the lock and swung open the door. One of Maddalene’s runners stood there—a pale, thin vampire, hand fisted to knock again. When he saw Duncan he lowered his arm. “Maddalene wants you,” he said.
Duncan glanced at Aodhán and jerked his head toward the living room. Aodhán lifted his chin in acknowledgment and joined the women.
“Yeah, that’s right. That’s the place for him, hiding with the other girls,” the vampire said, a sneer curling his upper lip away from his fangs.
Aodhán lifted his sword and took a step forward. “If you think you have what it takes, bring it on, little man.”
“Boys, boys.” Duncan lifted a hand to forestall Aodhán and looked at their visitor, who stood all of five and a half feet tall and if he was lucky weighed one thirty. Duncan leaned in close. “Murray, do you really think you could take him?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Because I think Kimber could wipe the floor with you. What do you think an enraged fey warrior could do? And how fast do you think he could do it?”
Duncan knew the little vampire was stronger than Kimber; he’d merely said what he had to put the little bugger in his place. But Aodhán, on the other hand… Oh, hell yeah. Aodhán would have no problem getting the best of the vamp. Murray was small and wiry, and fast, which was why Maddalene used him as a runner. He could easily dart around zombies without getting caught. Unless he somehow got trapped in the middle of a horde. Then a lone vampire was SOL, no matter how fast he might be. The sheer weight of numbers trumped speed any day.
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