by Kate Hill
“I don’t think that at all.” He remembered Dulcie and his sister-in-law Mara. Both were small women yet fierce fighters. Still, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against him or another male Immaculate. This little girl was only a hybrid. “It’s just that logically—”
“It might be better to get this over now.” Gareth sighed. “I’m not saying that in time she’ll continue to challenge you, but as of now, you can learn a lot from her. She has a tremendous gift for weapons.”
“What’s a few minutes of your time?” Geneva lifted her chin, her dark green eyes taunting. “You can go easy on me if you think it’s necessary.”
Matthew shrugged. “I’m not saying you can’t use those—”
Geneva lunged at him with animal swiftness and struck him in the knee, the stomach and the groin before he finished talking.
“Little bitch.” Matthew snarled through clenched teeth, almost doubling over and clutching his privates. Geneva giggled. This time when she lunged, Matthew tried blocking her blows. He successfully deflected three before the hard wooden end of one of the weapons landed between his legs again. He tried tearing the tonfa from her hand, but her movements were too quick and fluid. She struck his knee and his shin. Her eyes glowing, she backed him deeper into the room.
“What’s wrong with you, Matthew?” she demanded. “Why don’t you defend yourself?”
Matthew’s manners battled with his desire for self-preservation. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she had no qualms about smashing any part of him her wicked little weapons could reach.
Stumbling over the jacket he’d tossed on the floor, he leaned forward to catch himself. One of the tonfas belted him across the face. He tasted blood and felt it running from his lips.
She attacked again, and he managed to catch one tonfa, then the other. Geneva hissed with frustration as he ripped the weapons from her hands and jerked her into his arms, holding her small body immobile.
Geneva suddenly stopped struggling and kissed him. He dropped her, and she stumbled to her knees, staring up at him while licking his blood from her mouth. She murmured, “God, you are so beautiful.”
Matthew tossed the weapons aside, his eyes narrowed with irritation and disgust. Geneva’s giggles echoed in the room as Matthew picked up his jacket, jerked it on and brushed past Gareth.
“That girl needs professional help,” Matthew stated as Gareth fell into step beside him.
“She’s not a girl,” Gareth told him. “She’s over seven hundred years old.”
“I don’t care if she’s a thousand. She looks like a preteen.”
“Geneva can be pushy, but she’s had to be. Her life hasn’t been easy.”
“So what am I supposed to do about it?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to explain a little about her. You can learn a lot from her.”
“As long as she keeps her hands—and mouth—to herself.”
“I’ve talked to her about that before.” Gareth shook his head. “It’s just her way. She’s a good fighter though, isn’t she?”
“Very good.”
“But she hasn’t the strength to back it up. That’s why you’re so lucky, Matthew. You’re an Immaculate, the most powerful creature on Earth.”
Matthew remained silent. Yes, Immaculates were powerful, but he recalled the strength of the First Father. Originals were even more formidable. He thought about what Sage would be like when he grew up—how powerful he’d be.
“I have to go on guard duty,” Gareth said. “In a few days, when I have duty again, I’ll take you with me so you can get used to it.”
Matthew nodded. “Thanks for the workout.”
“That room is open to you anytime. The others mostly use it at night, so if you want more sparring practice, that’s when to get it.”
Gareth turned down a corridor to the right and disappeared. Matthew returned to the street. Drawing a deep breath, he felt the energetic pull of the rising moon. Without work or Dulcie, the nights seemed so long…
Chapter Twenty
“Vincent!” Dulcie shoved her way through the trash-filled hall as she balanced several bags of food.
“Yo!”
“Get out here!”
“What’s the matter? You being chased?” Vincent, shirtless, dragged on torn, faded jogging pants as he stumbled into the hallway.
“No, I’m not being chased! Clear away some of these bags so I can get to the kitchen!”
He kicked aside green trash bags as Dulcie plowed past him.
“Sheesh.” Vincent sniffed. “Smells ripe in here.”
“That’s because I told you two days ago to take this shit to the dump! All you do is lie around here. Can’t you do the one simple thing I ask you to?”
“Lie around here?” he scoffed, following her to the kitchen where she dumped the bags on the round glass table and began putting groceries in the refrigerator. “I’m here to protect you. I’m constantly aware of my surroundings. That’s stress, baby. I tell you— Hey!” Vincent sputtered as she peeled a banana and squashed it in his face.
“Just get rid of the damn trash, Vincent! And look at the rest of this house. Dishes in the sink—”
“You said you didn’t want them on the counters.”
“Your laundry is everywhere.”
“You know what your problem is? You’ve been living with Dr. Clean for too long. I looked in his closet the other day. You know he has one of those little shoe organizers?”
“Yes, I know. I gave it to him for his birthday.”
“Yeah, but he uses it. His suits are all lined up by color. There’s black, then there’s dark gray, then light gray, then navy blue. I don’t know what’s up with the ones that are still covered in plastic like he owns stock in a dry cleaners or something—”
“I know exactly what Matthew’s closet looks like, and why were you in it?”
“Looking for some sweats. The hole in these keeps getting bigger and bigger.”
“So go buy some new ones.”
Vincent yawned and stretched. “I hate clothes shopping. Boring. Usually a bunch of sissies. I bet Matthew spends a lot of time shopping. I’ve never seen so many ties, and not one of ‘em has a cartoon character on it.”
“Vincent. Do me a favor. Go buy yourself some sweats. Take the trash and get the hell out of this house for a few hours.”
“You shouldn’t be alone here.”
“I’m going to visit Matthew’s parents.”
“Well,” Vincent sighed, “I guess so. Be careful, though. If anything happens to you, those friggin’ twins will kill my ass, especially Matthew—if we ever see him again.”
“Vincent!” Dulcie snarled, at the end of her patience. The thought of never seeing Matthew again terrified her. The last thing she needed was to hear it spoken aloud by Vincent.
“I’m going. I’m going.” He left the kitchen.
Dulcie continued putting away the groceries, pausing over a jar of peanut butter and a can of cranberry sauce. She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Why did I buy this stuff? Habit. I wonder how Matthew is. I really wish I knew.”
Once certain Vincent had gone, Dulcie walked to the bedroom and opened Matthew’s closet. She ran her hand over his clothes and slipped on one of his shirts. In the bathroom, she sprayed his favorite cologne on the sleeve, then curled up on the bed and closed her eyes. She tried pretending he was with her, or would be coming home soon. It didn’t work. As she drifted to sleep, she thought only of him.
* * * * *
In his room, Matthew undressed and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes, allowing the hot water to soothe his muscles. He tried pretending he was back in his own large, clean shower instead of the tiny rectangle of cracked porcelain. At least he’d scrubbed away the rust stains and fixed the pipes.
Forget about the pipes. Think of something pleasant, like Dulcie. A pang of sadness so deep it became a physical ache struck him when he thought of her. Yet he would rather focus on memories of her more than any
thing else.
With his eyes closed, it was too easy to imagine she was with him under the hot stream of water. He drew a deep breath and placed a hand on his chest, sweeping down his abs, pretending it was her hand on his body. It would be a small hand, incredibly strong yet so, so tender. Her claws would emerge slowly and scrape over his nipples, then trace his ribs. Warm rivulets trickled down his forehead and neck. Fingers curled around his cock, stiff and aching from thoughts of her. Her small, voluptuous body would be slick with moisture beneath the water, her delicate face tilted up toward the faucet as her smooth leg brushed against his. The hand around his shaft tightened and pumped. With a swift, smooth motion, it ran over his cock head.
Matthew’s pulse quickened and he drew another deep breath. Her warm, firm little tongue would circle his male nipples and tickle its way down his abdomen. When he grasped her breasts and rolled the pert nipples beneath the pads of his thumbs, she’d moan with desire, a high-pitched animal sound that stabbed him with lust.
Matthew growled, his hand pumping his water-slicked cock faster, the muscles of his thighs hard and tight as he imagined Dulcie’s lips and hands stroking them.
He could almost feel her, catch her sensual aroma and hear the sexy mewls she uttered as she neared her climax.
His breath coming in ragged pants, his buttocks clenched as he clasped a hand to the base of his cock, his hips thrusting, imagining her pelvis pressed close to his. Blood pounded through his body, the pulsations echoing in his ears as he loosened his hold on the base of his cock and worked his hand in a savage rhythm that ended in a spurting that sprayed the shower wall almost from bottom to top.
Panting, Matthew leaned a shoulder against the wall, wishing more than ever that she was actually in his arms.
“Damn it!” Matthew snarled as the water suddenly turned ice-cold. He rinsed off quickly and reached for a towel. In the apartment across the wall, he heard water running and muttered, “At least someone’s having a hot shower.”
He pulled on socks, blue sweatpants and a white T-shirt. On the nightstand, he lit two white candles and lavender incense. Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind. Now he had more time than ever to practice magic and meditation. He wished he possessed even a bit of telepathic skill. That way he might be able to contact Dulcie.
He drew a deep breath and released it slowly, doing his best to focus.
Just when he’d begun to relax, a baby’s loud screaming erupted from the apartment next to his. He tried to block it out and concentrate, but the only thing he’d ever been able to focus on was his work. Magic and telepathy were much more difficult for him. He needed quiet. He needed focus. He needed…
“To make that kid shut up,” he muttered.
He noted the baby’s crying sounded sick, not just neglected like so many children he’d seen lately.
Muttering to himself about the wisdom of minding one’s own business, he snuffed his candles, left his apartment and knocked on his neighbor’s door.
“What the hell do you want? I told you I’ll have the rent money tomorrow night!” shouted a woman’s frazzled voice above the sound of the screaming infant.
“I’m not here for rent.”
“Do I sound like I can afford to buy anything? No magazine subscriptions, no makeup, no encyclopedias—”
“I’m not a salesman.”
“Oh, God!” The door flew open, and a woman no more than eighteen years old, a toddler clinging to her leg, a squalling baby cradled in her arms, stared up at Matthew with frightened eyes. “Officer, Robbie doesn’t live here anymore. If he’s done anything… Oh, it’s you.” The woman relaxed upon seeing Matthew. “You’re the new guy. What do you want?”
“What’s wrong with your baby?”
“She’s been sick for days. I brought her to the clinic down the street, but I can’t go there again right now. I have two other kids who can’t wait all those hours… Dina, shut up!” The woman shouted at the toddler screeching, “Mommie, Mommie, Mommie!”
“Maybe I can help you. I’m a doctor.”
“Yeah. I heard. I got no money and no insurance.”
“I’m not exactly in formal practice at the moment.”
“Yeah. I heard.”
“May I come in?”
She blew a strand of lank blonde hair from her eyes and stared up at him before she shrugged. “What the hell?”
Matthew stepped into the apartment, surprised that, aside from several scattered toys, the place appeared clean—or as clean as rooms in such a broken-down building could be.
He reached for the baby, and the woman placed the red-faced, screaming bundle in his arms.
“She’ll be an opera singer.” Matthew made an attempt at humor as he placed the baby on the kitchen table next to a little boy drawing with crayons. The boy stared at him as he examined the baby.
“First, let’s get her fever down,” Matthew said. “Make a lukewarm bath. What did they tell you at the clinic?”
While the woman explained about the baby’s symptoms and repeated the advice she’d received at the clinic, Matthew bathed the infant and diapered her.
“Are you a kids’ doctor?” the woman asked.
“A pediatrician?” Matthew shook his head. “I work primarily with adults in research. I’m a hematologist.”
“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that?”
“A blood doctor.”
“Oh. Sure. Why not? You’re a vampire, right? Business and pleasure all in one.”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t really work that way.” Matthew held the baby in the crook of his arm. She was quiet now, but he guessed it wouldn’t last long. “You really need to get the medication prescribed at the clinic.”
“I have no money and no insurance.”
“What about the children’s father?”
She laughed humorlessly. “You try tracking him down.”
“Mommie, I’m hungry,” the boy at the table said.
“Later,” the woman hissed.
“I can take care of the baby while you make them dinner,” Matthew offered.
“No. You’ve done enough. Really.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I can’t make dinner. There’s nothing to eat.” She opened the refrigerator which, except for a half-empty jar of salad dressing, a can of formula and an onion, was empty.
Matthew sighed. I do not want to get involved with anyone here. This is none of your business, Matthew. Don’t be a sucker!
“Come over to my apartment for dinner.”
“No. Thank you.”
“Can I come?” the boy asked.
“Todd!” she hissed.
“Why don’t you all come? I’m not used to eating by myself when I’m home. Usually my wife…”
The woman held his eyes before she grabbed the formula from the refrigerator and picked up a faded pink baby bag. Taking the toddler by the hand, she said to the boy, “Come on, Todd.”
The woman and children followed him down the hall.
“What’s your name?” Matthew asked as he opened the door. He remembered to switch on the light to suit their human eyes.
“Laurie. That’s Todd, this little monster—” she glanced affectionately at the toddler, “—is Dina, and the baby’s Brianna.”
“What’s for dinner?” Todd asked.
“Todd, you better keep that mouth of yours shut!” Laurie tossed her son an annoyed look.
“It’s okay,” Matthew said. “There’s chicken breast—”
Todd giggled. “Hey, Ma, he said breast.”
“Todd, I mean it!” Laurie hissed.
“Don’t know why I bought chicken breast,” Matthew said to himself. “I haven’t a clue how to cook it. My wife does all the cooking.”
“You mean you’re not married to some other yuppie? No offense.”
“She works out of the home. Do you know how to—”
“Sure,” Laurie said. “I can cook it. That’s one thing I can do r
ight. What else do you got?”
He opened the freezer. “Peas. Carrots. Salad.”
“Bet you don’t drink caffeine or smoke or nothing.” Laurie propped the baby on the bed and opened the refrigerator. “I knew it. Diet soda. No caffeine. Milk. Orange juice. All you need is apple pie and football. Where the hell did you come from?”
Matthew felt eyes on him and glanced down at the staring boy, who asked, “Do you play basketball?”
A smile played around Matthew’s lips. “No.”
“Can you touch the ceiling?”
“Todd! I told you to keep quiet!” Laurie snapped as she began preparing the food.
“I was just askin’, Ma.” The boy turned to Matthew and shrugged.
“Sure I can touch the ceiling.” Matthew picked Todd up by the waist and lifted him. “So can you.”
Todd ran his hand over the rough plaster. “Cool.”
“Are you still married?” Laurie asked.
Matthew nodded.
“You miss her?”
“Very much.”
“I don’t think I ever want to get married. Having a boyfriend was bad enough. I’ll tell you, even though the son of a bitch hasn’t sent a penny in over a year, it’s almost worth it to not have him around.”
“He should be responsible for his children.”
“Hey, he put Todd and me in the hospital a couple of times already. That’s enough. Things weren’t too bad because my mom was living with us and she took care of the kids while I worked at the grocery store. She got sick about a month ago and had to go to a home. I had trouble finding sitters and lost my job. Gareth got me an interview for next week, and Geneva’s going to start watching the kids for me.”
“Geneva?” Matthew wrinkled his nose. I wouldn’t let her watch my dog, let alone my kids.
“She’s okay, once you get to know her.”
While Laurie cooked, Matthew set the table and the children watched television. Within the hour, they sat down to eat. The meal was very good, almost as good as Dulcie’s cooking. That thought brought a fresh wave of longing, but Matthew buried it, at least until after his company left.
“Thanks for everything, Matthew,” Laurie said once she’d gathered her family and prepared to go.
