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Psychic Storm: Ten Dangerously Sexy Tales of Psychic Witches, Vampires, Mediums, Empaths and Seers

Page 161

by Deanna Chase


  of love, of light, and peace.

  I honor that place –

  where if you are in that place in you,

  and I am in that place in me,

  there is only one of us.

  “Namaste.”

  My voice echoes in the room, the thought complete with the utterance of that one word. I feel at one with life around me and have a peaceful tingle of energy in my heart, this one not associated with Were blood. I like to think whenever I say Namaste that Olga is in the moment with me.

  She was the most peaceful, loving woman I have ever had the honor to know and I’ll always be grateful for the gift she gave me in Rafe. Olga was centered in her life and accepting of all around her. She became aware of what I am during the years she taught me yoga, but I did not know the depth of her acceptance until over a decade later when she sent Rafe to find me.

  I light the oil pot sitting on a low table near the wall then sit on the large square cushion before it. Closing my thoughts, I focus on the flame. The room around me fades as I sink into the dancing firelight.

  Surprisingly, a face forms in the flames and I see Drew’s wife clearly in my mind. She’s smiling, like he remembered her. I have seen this woman before, I know now, but can’t place where because she looks different. Could she have been a guest here or at one of our previous properties?

  No. Wait. She was human, so our last spot in Paris is out. Had to be here, but damned if I can recall. Maybe Rafe will remember. I’ll check with him when he wakes. I close my eyes to block out the flames and push her image from my mind. I’ll never achieve Nirvana if I keep allowing crap to intrude.

  Crashing waves, deep breathing, counting sheep—none of it seems to help. Today may be one of those days I will not be able to meditate. I’m not surprised. Reaching inner peace remains a difficult journey for me.

  Time passes until I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting. One task becomes clear as I rise to start the day: I need to return the phone call to New York.

  I move to the small sitting area by the door and take a seat. There’s a side table with a phone between two chairs. I prefer calling from here over going back to our suite and risk waking up Rafe. From memory, I dial the number I recognized from the slip of paper. It’s Cy’s landline in his office.

  After several rings, Cali’s voice comes over the receiver. “Hello, Vivian.”

  Ah, the joys of caller ID.

  “Yes. Hey, Cali. Got the message Cy left for me. You have any news?”

  “And good morning to you, too.” She says with a laugh. “Turns out John Pierre’s from Washington State. He flew to Fairbanks a few days ago, rented an SUV, and got gas in Coldfoot on the credit card number you gave us.” She pauses a bit. “Do you want the details of where he lived over the phone or should I email you what we have?”

  Washington is all I needed to hear. I know exactly where he lived and now I need to get the hell off the phone.

  “What you’ve given me is enough for now. Emailing the rest will be fine. I’ll go over it with Asa when he gets here.”

  “Speaking of that, they should be at your place before nine a.m. your time—depending on tailwinds.”

  I check; it’s almost six. I’ll have to hustle to get things done before he arrives.

  “Great, thanks. Tell Cy I appreciate all the hard work.”

  “No problem, Vivian. You know he’d do anything for you.”

  “You’re fine with your nephew coming up here?” I decide to dig while I have her on the phone and Cy is not within hearing distance. “Cy didn’t ask him first, so I’m hoping it’s okay with you as well.”

  “Yes, well… Asa expressed an interest in leaving here almost as soon as he got back from the war last year. Cy taught him a lot about control and he’s definitely trustworthy, no need to worry on that front.” She sighs before continuing. “Actually, it was my idea all along. I’ve wanted Cy to call you for months to see if Asa could come up. I think the noise and people in the club are too much for him. He was always reserved as a kid and I think the frivolousness of the place sets him on edge. Combine that with the shock of being out of the military and newly undead, and you can imagine what it’s been like for him. Cy refused to call you because he knew you don’t really have a formal seethe, but I was tempted to do an end-run and call you myself.”

  Damn, that wouldn’t have been good. I’d hate to have to turn her down and that’s exactly what I would have done. “Don’t get your hopes up, Cali. He may like it here fine, but I’m not inclined to have more members in my seethe. Let’s see how it goes, okay?”

  “All right,” disappointment clear in her tone, “I’ll leave you alone. But, he’s great with all the latest security advancements. You never know…” Her voice lifts at the end, hope shines back in her sunny disposition once more and I don’t have the heart to crush it.

  I can always let Cy handle the task when I decide Asa has to go. If I can get Asa out of here with him none the wiser on my secrets, then that’s what I’ll do.

  Hanging up the phone, one fact resonates with certainty in my mind: Salvador’s group hales from Washington. I think Sheba and her tears may be the key to the murder. I have a feeling many details will come together when I question that elusive member of Sal’s group. It’s still too early for a polite hostess to knock on a guest’s door and wake her up.

  I shut off the lights when I leave the gym and run into Paul on his way to the kitchen. Paul’s the best chef we’ve had in two decades. He used to cook in the lower forty-eight for years, until he answered my employment ad. He hadn’t wanted to come up here to this frozen area of our nation, but the money I threw at him was impossible to resist.

  “Morning, Paul. Glad to see you up and at ‘em today,” I say with a cheeky grin.

  I saw him last night on the dance floor with other employees and he’s looking worse for the wear today with a haggard air about him.

  “Ugh, no teasing. My head can’t take it right now.” He stumbles slightly and catches himself against the hallway wall.

  A short laugh erupts from me. After my emotional night, seeing him hung-over helps shake off my last lingering tendrils of heartache. “Poor baby. You should know by now the morning shift always comes sooner than you think.” I take pity on him and try to give him a little nudge in the right direction. “You know what they say about water the next day, right? Drink plenty and you’ll be better by noon.”

  “Yeah, that and a beer chaser with some Advil will do me.”

  I smile and take my leave of him as we approach the lobby. Of course, I meant the small trace of vampire blood in the water would make him feel better. Whether he takes my advice, or his own, is up to him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Miranda’s still on shift at the front desk when I enter the lobby. She’s busy working on the computer, but looks up on my approach.

  “Hey Miranda, has it been slow this morning?”

  “Yes. Only one blood request and nothing else. Tommy went to Jet Natsuhara’s cabin around five.”

  “Good. We’ve got a temporary employee named Asa coming from Cy’s place in Manhattan. Could you put him in one of the cabins? I’m not sure how long he’ll be here or where I’ll want him long term.”

  Miranda types rapidly on the keyboard in front of her. “Sure thing, I’ll put him in unit one. What time do you expect him?”

  I smile at the thought of our ex-military guy tucked away next door to the Natsuhara cabin. “According to Cali, he could be here as early as nine. Please have someone call me when the airstrip reports his plane coming in.”

  “You got it, Vivian. No problem.”

  I smile in thanks and walk to the pool in the east wing. It’s still too early to enter our suite; maybe I’ll relax in the steam room. Rafe could use more rest. Werewolf-infused vampire blood or not, he needs a few hours a night to keep healthy.

  The pool wing’s double doors open at a push and the humidity from the vestibule wraps around me, trans
porting my senses to a tropical island paradise. The second set of doors open as the first set close behind me. Pausing a moment, I once again admire the gorgeous sight in front of me.

  Large, healthy green palm trees and other tropical plants flourish in big containers with their personal UV bulbs. Cushioned chaise lounge chairs are scattered around the pool’s edge with small tables placed in between. A flapping noise breaks the relaxing spell and the flutter of green wings causes my head to whip up as I twist my body to the side.

  “Braaacck! Mikey wants a biiiite.”

  “Stop it, you Goddamn bird!” I swear that flying menace is out to get me! Who would have thought a parrot could cause me so much anxiety. I’m a damn powerful vampire and this is embarrassing.

  Mikey never fails to swoop down on me whenever I enter the pool area. His only saving grace is that he’s well behaved with the guests. If Rafe hadn’t insisted we have the three birds in here for atmosphere, I’d throw all of them into the snow and be done with it.

  I fell quickly out of love with the whole atmosphere concept when Rafe taught Mikey that cute little phrase. Months later, Rafe topped that trick by somehow training the flying bastard to pester me the second I walk in. There are times that man should count himself lucky I don’t smother him in his sleep. The fact it wouldn’t work and he’d laugh his ass off must be what has kept me from trying.

  The calypso music and voices bouncing off the water have thankfully made my very uncool freak-out go unnoticed by the guests in the pool. Some day I am going to set those birds free. Today they have a stay of execution as I spot the very person I need to talk to above all others: Sheba.

  Strolling past empty chairs, I casually stop at the one next to the lovely, full-bodied woman. Lowering myself into the chaise next to hers, I clear my throat to get her attention. Her expression looks strained as she struggles to focus on me.

  “Hello. Sheba, isn’t it?”

  Her inviting smile warms her face, helping dispel some of the strain. Her beautiful café-au-lait skin and hazel, almond-shaped eyes speak of an exotic mix in her heritage. I see why she was sought to enter this seethe. Her coloring is breathtaking to behold, and I’m shocked no vampire has laid claim to her yet.

  “Yes, you have a good memory, Vivian. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Surprised to see you here, actually. I ran into Sal at the bar last night. He said you weren’t feeling well. Is there anything we can get for you?”

  “No, but thank you. I’m not myself. Bouts of being upset and crying without quite knowing why. It’s the oddest thing.”

  “Hmm…” I think I know why she’s feeling so off. I’d bet a million bucks someone’s been messing with her head. I wonder if she’ll let me check? “Sheba, how long have you been with Sal’s seethe?”

  “Oh, about a year. I’m hoping Sal or one of the others in the family will make me a servant soon.”

  She has that starry-eyed look of a dreamer, and for her sake, I hope she gets her wish. If she had been a servant already, she would have been protected from whatever someone did to her. I’ve never understood the callousness of not protecting those you feed from. Then again, with more than a hundred and forty humans as my wards, all of whom I won’t touch, I’m clearly not the norm.

  “I think someone may have been inside your head and tampered with your thoughts recently,” I say. A deer-in-headlights look quickly replaces her happily contented one. “Would you mind if I take a look?”

  “Whhhat?”

  “What you are describing,” I repeat, “sounds like someone could have been tampering with your memories. Can you tell me everything you did yesterday?”

  She squints as she tries to remember. “I went bowling with the group for Sunday’s tournament, which, by the way, was a blast. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’d had so much fun.” I smile at her praise and nod. I don’t want to stem her flow of thoughts. “Let’s see… next we watched a classic horror movie in the media room and afterwards, I went back to my room to nap for the festivities later…” She looks in the distance and scrunches her brow.

  “What time do you think you went upstairs?”

  “Around three, I think, but I don’t remember much after that except being upset in my room later. I was crying and I couldn’t remember why. Maybe I had a bad dream or something?”

  “Do you remember any part of this dream?”

  Sheba’s hazel eyes go wide for a second and her face becomes blank. The color leaches out of her skin and it looks as though she’s seeing through me rather than focusing on the here and now. Now there’s no doubt in my mind she had her head messed with. Poor thing, someone got in there and wiped a few hours from her.

  “Sheba, I’d like to help you. Do you feel comfortable letting me into your mind?”

  Her vision snaps back to me while she processes my question. Whoever this bastard was, he wasn’t kind. I hope I can fix what he did.

  Sal’s smooth voice echoes up from the pool. “What’s going on, Vivian? I have a feeling you’re not telling her everything she needs to know.”

  Damn. That’s what I get for talking to her in an open room. Anyone here could have heard our entire conversation, and it looks like that’s exactly what happened. I glance at the water and see Salvador’s sleek, wet body walk up the steps from the corner of the pool nearest us. His bathing suit sits low and snug on his slender hips as he gracefully moves to the foot of Sheba’s chair.

  Sal’s sharp eyes hone in on me. I know I’m not going to get out of here without some careful explaining. The best defense is often an unexpected offense; here’s to hoping I reveal as little as possible.

  I face him, allowing my displeasure to show in my features. “Sal,” my tone comes out harsh, “am I right in assuming Sheba is just your companion? No one in your seethe has laid claim to her yet?”

  “Yes, that’s true. So?” His face mirrors his surprise. I caught him off guard with my vehemence or he would have not shown that much expression, I bet.

  “I want you to smell her. Come close and draw in deep. Tell me what you sense.”

  He looks intrigued with my question and moves to the side of her chair to comply, watching me as he does so. Sheba’s used to obeying vampires without question. She rises from her chair to stand before him to make my request easier.

  As her head tilts to the side, Sal leans in and puts his face close to her neck, unceremoniously sniffing her. His head whips up, his back becoming ram-rod straight. Tension fills his body and he directs a dark angry look my way.

  His voices hisses out, irritation quite clear. “She smells like you. How is this possible?”

  In his anger, he sends his aura against me like an angry buzz. His dark brown eyes bleed black. He transforms from calm, pool-swimming guest to annoyed master vamp in a heartbeat. I’m not some little fledgling to be cowed with a show of power. I resist the dark urge to lash out with my own aura. I top him by about a hundred and fifty years—but despite our long association, and my careful shielding, he doesn’t know it.

  I ignore his question. Sal’s smart enough to figure out the how of my scent on Sheba. That is, if he can get his dick back in his pants and stop thinking we’re in a pissing contest.

  I have no intention of fighting with a guest, but I have no qualms about taking him down a notch or two in his arrogance either. “Did your maker not teach you to respect the gift this human shares with you? Her very life fuels your own and yet you offer her no protection against others of our kind.”

  “You…” his face flushes with his outrage and he sputters in his haste to spew his indignation out at me. “You have no…who do you think you are? I treat her fine. She is here in your resort with me, is she not? I protect her.”

  “If that’s the case, how is it someone’s been playing inside her mind and wasn’t very neat about it?”

  Theresa, his buxom, brunette mate, wisely chooses that moment to step in. Also dripping wet from the pool, she places her hand on S
al’s arm to calm him before addressing me. “What are you saying, Vivian? Do you think that’s why Sheba feels off? I thought maybe she was getting a cold or something.”

  Theresa’s concern for Sheba sounds sincere. Her brow creases with worry and she steps from Sal’s side to place a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “Look at me, dear. Is what Vivian saying true? Are you missing some points in time from yesterday?”

  Sheba looks uncomfortable under our scrutiny. Her arms wrap around her body and a shudder passes through her. “I’m not sure… can either of you tell?” Sheba turns to Salvador, hoping he’ll come to her rescue.

  Ah, and now the moment I’ve been waiting for. Damn, Sal is not going to be happy with me in the next few seconds. Hopefully, he’ll shake it off and we can talk it out later, like two civilized bloodsuckers.

  I rise from my seat and draw to my full height. I allow my aura to come to the surface and push gently against Salvador’s. His face shows his shock while I keep my own expression perfectly neutral. There’s no need to rub this in any more than necessary.

  The tension in the air fairly crackles from the power we’re exuding and the unknown of what the next moment holds. I adapt the formal speech associated with an act of importance, hoping it will dissolve the barrier between us and allow him to think clearly.

  Extending my hand to Sheba, I bow slightly to Sal then turn to face the young woman. “I request your presence in a formal audience, and I implore you to honor my desire. You have ingested my blood and I lay claim to that which runs through your veins.”

  Sheba’s jaw drops open as a gasp emits from both Sal and his mate. Sal and I lock gazes and I see some of his anger drain, replaced by a look of loss.

  His quiet voice holds a note of hope. “You have not fed from her yet then?”

  “No, and I will not. I do not feed from our guests. You should know that in the fifty-odd years you’ve been coming to my properties.”

  He smiles weakly at me. “I’m finding there are lots of things I was unaware of in those fifty years. You hide very well.”

 

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