Last Vampire Standing

by Nancy Haddock

  She didn’t morph into panther size, I guess so as not to scare the bejeebers out of anyone who happened to see us. Of course, her house cat size was as big as a bobcat. That was intimidating enough.

  “What happened back there?” I asked in a whisper as we hurried along the shadowed streets.

  The man with the scarred face shot an arrow at you.

  “Gorman?”

  Pandora glanced over her shoulder as if to say Duh.

  “He’s never pulled so much as a pop gun on me. Why try to kill me now?”

  Pandora shook her head. This I do not know, but you must tell your man.

  Oh goody. Another thing for Saber to feel good about.

  Pandora stopped so fast, I nearly plowed into her haunches.

  You will tell your man, she said, her amber eyes narrowing on me. There are dangers enough, and you must eliminate those threats you can.

  She was saying more than the words I heard in my head. I knew it, but I was tired of the coded messages.

  “Are you talking about whatever Triton is hiding from?”

  You will learn what you need to know in due time.

  She cocked her head toward the bay and twitched her ears, then paced off again.

  We reached Maggie’s front yard just as Saber stormed through the gate. He checked his steps, looked hard at Pandora, then settled his gaze on me.

  “I heard the sirens. What happened?”

  “Gorman shot an arrow at me but broke a shop window.”

  Saber clenched his fists. “Pandora saved you?”

  “She knocked me out of the way.”

  Saber nodded at her. “Good work. Get her in the house and stand guard until I get back.”

  Pandora trotted toward the cottage. I stepped closer to Saber.

  “Get back from where? You’re not going after Gorman.”

  “No. I’m calling the cops from a pay phone to give them an anonymous tip that Gorman broke the window. Any more questions?”

  I bit my lip. “Can I have a hug before you go?”

  “God, yes.”

  He grabbed me fast and hard in a hug that threatened to pop the stuffing out of me, but I clung to him just as tightly. I was about to tell him to forget the call and take me inside—take me, period—when Pandora gave a throaty chuff.

  Saber eased me away and touched his forehead to mine.

  “I’ll be gone ten minutes, and I want to slip into something more comfortable when I get back.”

  “S-slip into what?”

  “You.”

  FOURTEEN

  Saber cupped the back of my head, pressed a scorching kiss to my mouth, then let me go and sprinted to his car.

  “Ten minutes,” he called softly.

  I took off for my cottage, my keys in one hand, working the buttons of my costume with the other. My blouse was open before I hit the door.

  Lock it, Pandora said from her perch on the tiki bar.

  I nodded. “Thanks, Pandora. Later.”

  Eight minutes.

  I tossed my clothes off on the way through the living room to the bathroom. I didn’t care where they landed. I needed a shower. I was sick of being shot at and ticked at being in the middle of Triton’s skullduggery. I wanted my calm, normal afterlife back, damn it. And I wanted Saber.

  I flipped the shower on hot, squashed my hair into a shower cap, and stepped under the pulsating spray.

  Five minutes.

  Creamy body wash. Coconut scent. I inhaled the aroma as I spread the slick liquid on my shoulders, down my arms, over my aching breasts and the quivering muscles of my belly. The last vestiges of fear swirled down the drain.

  Two minutes.

  I shut off the water, ripped the cap off my hair—and the shower door burst open.

  A scream died in my throat.

  Deke stood there, naked and aroused, his cobalt eyes dark with fevered desire.

  He stepped into the shower stall, and I backed into the glass tile. Very slowly, his gaze dropped to my breasts, and every trickle of water on my body sizzled. With a fingertip, he reached to catch a ripe droplet on my nipple, then raised the drop to his mouth.

  One. Long. Minute.

  “Hi, honey. I’m early.”

  “I’m ready,” I whispered.

  He lifted me, pressed me against the shower wall, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. When he slipped into my wet warmth, my muscles closed tight around him as if to hold him near forever. Each stroke of his shaft built pain-pleasure friction, caressed needs in my heart that had no name. The wave of climax climbed until I hovered on the crest. I pressed Deke deeper, screamed his name. His shout of release echoed mine, and my body sang with power, my heart with fierce love.

  A coma. A multiple orgasm, sex-sated, blissful coma. I didn’t want to move again for at least a thousand years.

  Saber, though, decided he was hungry and pulled on navy blue boxers to go fix a sandwich. Hey, I support whatever keeps my man at peak strength and stamina.

  When I dragged myself out of bed, donned a sleep shirt, and joined him in the kitchen, I found my bra with the foam cups lying on the turquoise tabletop.

  “I knew I was flinging my clothes left and right, but I didn’t think I threw anything this far.”

  He put a glass of sweet tea on the table and sat down in front of his half-eaten sandwich.

  “You didn’t throw your bra this far. I stepped on it and got stabbed by this.”

  He lifted one bra cup to reveal Triton’s mermaid charm underneath. He dropped it in my hand and raised a brow.

  Uh-oh. Was Saber upset? He said he wasn’t jealous, exactly, but he could’ve fooled me. The charm gave my palm a mild jolt, and I let it clatter to the table.

  “Why was that in a scrap of fabric?” he asked with a hint of his cop voice.

  I sighed. “Remember when we were talking about Laurel’s tracker flatlining? I told you Pandora said she was diverted by another signal.”

  “Go on.”

  “She also said the charm acts like a homing device for her and told me to wear it. I put the charm in the fabric pouch for padding, then put the pouch in my bra.”

  “Why not just wear it as a necklace?”

  I raked my hair back. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was wearing it for Triton’s sake.”

  He didn’t smile, but I felt his energy shift. “Noted and appreciated, but your safety is what matters. Come here.”

  He picked up the chain and began easing it over my head when I flinched. “Wait.”

  “Did I catch your hair?”

  “No, but this thing buzzes with static energy when I hold it. In the cloth, it didn’t do that.”

  “You’re afraid it will keep buzzing when it’s touching your skin, huh? Let’s see.”

  He finished arranging the chain, then picked up the charm and dropped it down the inside of my sleep shirt. I held my breath, waiting for the charm to go spazzy with energy, but it didn’t. No static buzz, no static shock. Not even the sound of ocean waves.

  “Well? How is it?”

  I twitched my shoulders to see if anything happened. Nope. Nothing but a little bump between my breasts.

  “Fine, but are you sure it won’t bother you if I wear it?”

  He wagged his eyebrows. “As long as I’m the only one diving for mermaid treasure, I don’t care. Now, do you want to know what I found out about your land while you were out getting shot at and giving me gray hair?”

  I crossed my eyes at him, but the effect was lost since he was already hoofing it into the living room. I leaned around the doorframe to ogle his boxer-clad butt as he scooped a stack of papers from my desk.

  He handed me a tome. “Take a look.”

  “Don’t I get a hint what to look for?”

  “You’ll see it.”

  He took a swig from his plastic bottle of root beer and waited expectantly. I growled under my breath and began scanning the pages. Legalese wasn’t my strong point, but only the first two page
s were full of legal jargon. The third page contained a list of names and dates, and I spotted the pattern immediately.

  “Is this it? That Triton moved locations and changed the name of his company every twenty years?”

  “Twenty-two years in one case,” Saber corrected. “And he didn’t just change the name, he absorbed each old company into each new one. A new twist on corporate takeovers.”

  “He didn’t disguise the names much. The list starts with Delphinus and Company and ends with Trey Delphis Antiquities out of California. He might as well have put a neon sign on his trail.”

  “Since you were right about the land squabbles, I think he did it so ownership would be easy to trace. Look.” He scooted his chair closer to mine and thumbed through the stack to pull out another sheet. “I summarized this, but the transactions show you started with the equivalent of one hundred acres. As the island developed progressively southward, Triton sold off pieces.”

  I followed Saber’s finger down the column of dates. “I see it. Most of these sales were in the late 1970s and ’80s.”

  “Then another chunk in the early 1990s. I figure as the property values rose, Triton sold land and put the proceeds in trust to help pay the taxes.”

  “That’s good. At least it won’t take a Fort Knox fortune to pay him back.” I looked over at him. “Is there any land left other than the three lots?”

  “No, but I have to hand it to him. He must’ve studied the plots, because he not only saved beachfront land for you, he kept the part where an access street dead-ends. You have a wide buffer between your property and the next one.”

  “Score points for Triton.” I sipped on my tea and leafed through more papers but didn’t see what I was hunting for.

  “Did you find out who built the house?”

  “You mean that shack? No. Those records aren’t online.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter who built it, but what am I going to do about it?”

  Saber snorted. “Wait for the next storm to blow it down.”

  “Come on, be serious. Now that I know about”—I waved a hand at the papers—“all this, I can’t ignore it. If nothing else, I owe it to the neighbors to spiff up the house.”

  He pushed his plate away and crossed his arms on the table. “I have a feeling you want to make that place a project.”

  “Well, the thought had occurred. It would look fantastic on my design résumé. Plus, you’re looking for a house, and that one is just sitting there.”

  “No, Cesca. No way.”

  “You wouldn’t have to buy it. You could rent it. Cheap. And then it would be occupied.”

  “It’s barely tourable, never mind livable.”

  “But it could be if I fixed it up and expanded. I could build an office for you, and another bathroom. Or I could put on a second story, make the whole upstairs a master bedroom suite.”

  “Even if the county will approve any plan other than razing the place, as soon as you improve that property, your taxes and wind and flood insurance will be astronomical.”

  “Maybe not. Besides, even if you don’t want to live there, I’ll be able to move away from Maggie in four years.”

  He shrugged. “Being that you haven’t bitten a human in centuries, the VPA would probably approve you to move whenever you wanted.”

  I raised a brow. “Really?”

  “Yes, but you’ve just decorated this place exactly like you want it. Why trade down?”

  I gazed around my funky retro kitchen. I had put months of time and effort into decorating the cottage, and I loved it. Too, the cottage was twice as big as the beach house, so no way would my things fit in the smaller place. Besides, I loved being close to Maggie, and I could walk to my job.

  The rub was that I didn’t own the cottage. Maggie did. I was glad to pay her rent. I insisted on it, in fact. But someday, I wanted my own space. Why not turn the sow’s ear of a shack into—Well, okay, maybe making it a silk purse palace was stretching the laws of probability, but the beach house could look a lot better.

  “You have a point,” I admitted, and saw him relax a little. “But, even like it is, I could use the house to stow my board and surfing gear. Besides, I’m itching to tear out all those bushes and vines just to get a better idea of what the house could look like. With vampire strength, I could demo the landscape in the flash of a fang.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, you could. I’ll even help you when I can. But,” he said, holding up his hand when I squealed with excitement, “I’m not living there. In fact, I’m thinking of buying Neil’s house.”

  I blinked. “No kidding? When did you see his place?”

  “When I picked up the fireworks for the party last week. For the price he said he’s asking, it’s in better shape than anything Amanda’s shown me.”

  “Saber, that’s great.”

  “We’ll see if it works out,” he said around a yawn.

  I got up and took his arm. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  “I need to ask you about one more thing.”

  “Ask me,” I said, leading him through the kitchen door, “while we walk.”

  “Do you know where Triton is right now?”

  “No. I’ve tried to talk to him telepathically, but he’s as mysterious as Pandora. He’s in hiding from some big, bad evil, but I never get a sense of where he’s holed up.”

  “Have he or Pandora given you anything solid about what’s going on? Anything other than that vague message about betrayal and treachery?”

  “No, just that there’s danger. Why?”

  “You’ve been shot at twice in a week, and you ask why?”

  “Oh. There is that.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d wear a Kevlar vest until people stop shooting at you.”

  “A Kevlar vest over a bra top camisole? That would get me shot by the fashion police.”

  “Cesca, you need to take this seriously.”

  “I am, but you know it takes silver directly in the heart or brain to kill a vampire.”

  “Or a beheading,” he added grimly.

  “No worries about that. I see a sword, and I’m gone so fast, I’m a mere memory.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  I cleaned the kitchen, then looked over the rest of the pages Saber had printed for me. I didn’t understand 90 percent of it, but that was okay. I kept going back to the list of Triton’s companies and the places he’d lived. The list started with Cuba and the Florida Keys, then showed him in New Orleans and several coastal cities in Texas, including Galveston. He surfaced in south Florida again for a while, even in St. Augustine in the 1930s. After that, he shifted to cities all along the West Coast.

  The man knew how to diversify, too. At one time he’d owned interests in shipping, assaying, even timber and land companies. But his main businesses seemed to have been antiques of one kind or another.

  And now he was in hiding. Saber wondered why and from what, and so did I. I sure wished somebody would give me a clue sooner rather than later.

  I crawled into bed earlier than usual and slept until four when the phone rang.

  “ ’Lo,” I muttered into the cordless unit.

  “I woke you, huh?” Saber said, chuckling.

  “Mmmm. What’s up?”

  “Two things. First, I heard from Detective Balch.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Balch worked for the St. Augustine Police Department and had been in on the French Bride case. “Dare I hope they caught Gorman?”

  “They did, though Balch said they can’t charge him with anything but destruction of property unless a little bird wants to come forward. Then they can hold him for attempted murder.”

  “He’d still get out on bail, right?”

  “Depends on his lawyer and the judge.”

  “Then pressing charges is more trouble than it’s worth. What’s the other thing?”

  “I just toured Neil’s house. Cesca, this is the one.”

  “You’re sure?�
�� I asked, coming fully alert. “You know what they say about friends buying things from friends.”

  “I know, but Maggie helped him update the place, so it’s good. Oh, and Maggie was there, so I mentioned Jo-Jo’s gig tonight. In case she wanted to twist Neil’s arm again.”

  “And?”

  “She said they’re leaving early tomorrow for two weeks in Savannah. Did you know that?”

  Head smack. I’d forgotten all about their trip.

  “I knew, I just lost track of time. Are you coming back this afternoon?”

  “No. Now that the house looks like a deal, I need to get things rolling to sell my place. Oh, and Neil gave me a key so I can show you the house while they’re gone.” He paused. “You’re bringing Jo-Jo down to Daytona tonight, right?”

  “Unless he’s decided to fly.”

  “Either way, put out the mental call for Pandora to cover your back. I’ll meet you at the club at ten.”

  As soon as I ended the call with Saber, I phoned Maggie. Neil answered, and except when the waves were really bitchin’, I’d never heard him so psyched.

  “Hey, Fresca. I sold my house to Deke today.”

  “I know. Congratulations. What time are you and Maggie leaving tomorrow?”

  “I’ll let her tell you.”

  “Cesca, what’s up?” Maggie asked.

  “Saber reminded me about your Savannah trip. Can I come over in”—I glanced at the alarm clock I’d bought for Saber’s sake—“half an hour? You can show me what needs taking care of while you’re gone.”

  “You’re on, and plan to stay for sweet tea.”

  I showered, dressed, and tossed off my afternoon Starbloods, then spent an hour with Maggie. She had a list of instructions for watering plants both inside and out but said she’d set the thermostat, alarm, and timer for the lights before she left. She’d also put a hold on the newspapers and mail, but had a back-order on cabinet hardware that might be delivered while she was gone. I’d check the front porch for packages daily.

  Maggie also told me the neighbors were agog because the Listers had gone on a cruise. Selma had dragged Hugh out of the house, him cursing, her blessing.

  The subject switched to wedding plans over my sweet tea and her iced coffee. Neil wandered in to hint they were going to dinner to celebrate selling his house.