God help her.
She wanted her simplistic life back.
Baby John grabbed ahold of her index finger and squeezed it, then reached for his bottle. His face turned red and his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration.
She put the bottle in his mouth.
Babies were so cute. Her brothers and sisters were a handful to raise, but she wouldn’t trade anything for those precious moments. Their first steps warmed her heart. She’d never forget Valeria’s first words—a colorful set of curse words—or how Ian painted their Madre’s Oldsmobile because he wanted to help Evelyn wash the car.
Each one of her siblings made her proud.
John pushed his bottle away, then belched. His face turned pale.
She burped him over her shoulder.
Then he threw up.
He started off like Isabel. She vomited after every meal until she was nine months old. Evelyn fed her specialized baby formula because their mother worked three jobs at that point. Poor Madre couldn’t continue breastfeeding her. However, her mother and father provided a home for all eight of their children.
At least Eisen got bonding time with her little tyke.
“I didn’t know you had experience with babies.” Her host huffed while entering the room. “You’re a natural. Amelia’s always high-strung when she handles him.”
Unlike her counterparts, Eisen opted to dress casually—out of place for someone whose house stayed immaculate and flashy. She chose a floral t-shirt, black leggings, and tie-dye butterfly clips in her hair. It didn’t suit the woman’s professional image, but Hector’s behavior surprised her, too. Who would have thought shifters lived underneath Charm City?
Not her.
“Don’t be so nervous.” Eisen plucked John from Evelyn’s arms. “You’ll see Louis soon.”
“Ah, what do I call you, anyway?” She grabbed a picture from an end table and flipped to the back. “Our names are similar. It might confuse people at the office.”
“Good point.” Eisen sat on the brown and gold checkered couch. “Both our names start with E. Someone might call us another person’s name by mistake. Your first name starts with E, right?”
“Yes. Edith.”
Well, drat.
That wouldn’t work either.
“But back to John … he throws up on everyone.” His mother cradled him against her chest. “It was nice to see someone who understands babies for a change. I keep telling Amelia that babies sense distress, but she never listens to me. This isn’t my first child, you know.”
Evelyn thumbed to the door. “Then where’s your other—”
“My two oldest ones are with their father for the weekend.”
The sharpness in her tone brought an end to the conversation.
Evelyn wiped the vomit off her shoulder with a worn animal patterned rag. Well, there went her family bonding theory. She had two older children to manage during the week. Did they accept their new sibling? Did they cope well with their workaholic mother?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Something told her she’d find out soon enough.
“Hector said he talked with you.” Eisen rocked little John once he fussed again. “He told me where you two got interrupted. I figured explaining what I did would be easier than him fumbling through everything.” Her voice rose in exasperation. “I swear, he thinks my job is horrible because I’m wealthier than him.”
“What do you do?”
Her boss paused for a moment, rubbing her finger along her lower lip. “Well, the simple answer is that I’m a business investor. The complicated answer is that I’m a legal loan shark.”
Evelyn raised her bushy eyebrow. “Legal?”
“I loan businesses money in exchange for owning a percentage of their company. Usually, I invest in stocks. However, I end up making twenty-five percent more than what I loan people.”
She must invest in expensive businesses.
No one could afford this mansion investing in a start-up company.
“Some of my endeavors haven’t paid off, but most of them have been lucrative. Still … I’ve needed a personal assistant for some time. Someone who has unique characteristics, so to speak.”
Unique her ass. She hired Jem as a bouncer, but she knew nothing about Evelyn. For one, they met two days ago under unfortunate circumstances. She knew nothing about this fancy investor’s profession. Also, she sucked at managing others. Vixens succeeded because of her stubborn personality, not because she played nice with others.
Time to let her down gently.
“Pardon me for being frank, but I caused a car accident.” Evelyn played with her cross. “I don’t think I’m the right person for this. I’ve never worked an office job.”
“The accident was a small setback, I admit. However, your cousin turned down the job. She said you were better at dealing with people.” Eisen smiled. “She said you’d resist. She mentioned something about having good business sense and that you’re not afraid to try unconventional ideas.”
“I don’t think—”
“I can teach you office politics, but I need a bodyguard and a second in command. Your cousin became muscle for another prestigious company. She’s ending her assignment with me tomorrow.”
No. Vixens was their baby.
The next time Jemina called, they’d have a long heart-to-heart.
“Anyway, it’s best to keep this explanation simple.” Eisen let out a heavy breath. “For now, you’re applying the business model we discussed to Vixens. Once that’s complete, we’ll transition you to more permanent employment here.”
“Is it legit?”
Eisen drummed her fingers against the couch. “What do you think?”
“It’s not.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so feisty, considering your profession.” Her tone turned affectionate. “However, you’re crossing the line with your current business model. You pay women to keep men company.”
Evelyn gritted her teeth. “They’re making an honest living. They're not fucking them like horny school kids.”
“Oh, you’re so naïve.”
Whatever. She knew what happened to her coworkers outside of work.
Adults didn’t need babysitters.
“Oh, come now. You’re not the first person to have personal relations outside of work.” A bemused look crossed Eisen’s face. “Nonetheless, your heart’s in the right place. It’s why you resist the change so hard.”
“I give them a chance to succeed.” Anger tainted Evelyn’s voice as she grabbed one of her host’s expensive picture frames. “To take care of themselves and their bambinos or bambinas. You’re familiar with the hardships of parenthood yourself.”
“Yes.” Eisen pointed at the picture Evelyn held. “My family always called me by my nickname and I detested it. Raven wasn’t a cool name unless I was with my geeky friends. Some of my closest associates still use it.”
Evelyn smirked. “Not a conventional work alias.”
“You’ll have your own cool codename soon enough.” Eisen’s bony finger touched the photograph. “I guess I see myself whenever I talk with you because my parents always tried putting my siblings and I in a check-the-box list. We were born into money, so we had to act a certain way. I’m sure you understand.”
The picture depicted a perfect family except for her sibling’s forlorn expressions. She sat between her two brothers with a stoic look to her.
The strong but silent type.
They weren’t so different after all.
“Lady Eisen.” Amelia’s face turned grim when she entered the room again. “There’s a commotion at the front entrance. Mr. Irving arrived with Master Louis and three armed guards. We’ve told them to drop their—”
“Wait.” Eisen held up her hand. “We’re not alone. I hate sensing everyone’s emotions.”
Join the freaking club.
“Amelia, grab my Glock and two magazines. Also, bring the Beretta with you. Evelyn will need a
weapon as well.”
She bowed, then left again.
“I don’t need a weapon.” Evelyn punched her palm. “I lift Ford Explorers with my bare hands.”
“Take the Beretta. Please.”
Nope. Not happening.
She hurried out of the room.
God tested her patience. She couldn’t work for these deplorable gangsters. Hector—Eisen—they flipped a switch and became crime lords or worse. They had no qualms about using semiautomatic weapons to solve their life problems.
Better than draining someone’s blood, though.
She’d stick to pulverizing people. It solved most of her problems. Well, not all of them. Still, she handled herself well with business matters and she still lived after a horrendous gunfight. If Eisen couldn’t handle her, then tough shit.
She didn’t have to hire her.
Evelyn ended up back at the entrance, one step away from exiting the pampered home. Could she return to a life of poverty and constant overdraft notices inside her email every other week?
No. Screw it.
She’d have to carry the goddamn gun.
“Mistress Evelyn.” Amelia’s voice lowered until she mimicked a bad B-rated villain in a horror movie. “Come with me. I’ll show you where the Beretta is.”
Oh, hell no.
Only suckers fell for this kind of trap.
“I’ll wait here.” What excuse could she give Amelia? “I wouldn’t want a stranger rooting through my bedroom without proper supervision.”
There. A viable excuse.
What would the maid do?
“I’m afraid I must insist.” Amelia reached for her arm. “You have company waiting for you upstairs. They’ve waited quite a long time to see you.”
Wait. Hector and Louis left her an hour ago.
Then who waited for her upstairs?
Evelyn sprinted down the hallway.
The curio cabinets shook from her thunderous footsteps, but she didn’t care. She had to find out who conned Amelia into trying to capture her again. Did she work for Alexia or Simon?
It didn’t matter. The treacherous maid would pay.
Amelia followed her.
Gunfire trailed behind her.
Glass exploded from the curio cabinets. Shards of glass hit Evelyn while she sprinted down the corridor.
After five bullets, Amelia swore, then dropped her weapon to the ground.
Her sixth bullet grazed Evelyn’s bicep.
Adrenaline coursed through her.
This little upstart ruined her brand new dress.
Evelyn stopped mid-run and pulled a metal nail file out of her bra. It was the only weapon she had, but she’d make it work for this special occasion.
The blasted maid came closer.
Evelyn dodged out of the line of fire and grabbed Amelia’s throat. Then she jammed the nail file into her jugular vein.
Her assailant screamed.
The victorious Latina pulled the makeshift weapon toward her.
Amelia tried staunching the fatal wound, but blood poured down her chest and throat. She dropped to her knees and gurgled in vain. After forty-five seconds, she toppled to the ground, landing on her side.
Then her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling.
What a waste.
“See, you’re perfect for this job.” Eisen clapped at the end of the hallway. “Follow me. I have an errand to run before we head back to Vixens.”
Footsteps thumped down the hall. Her bodyguards had arrived.
Better late than never.
“Evie.” Louis’s voice called from the corridor. “You’re not hurt, are you?” His tone changed mid-sentence. “There’s blood. Lots of blood.”
She wiped her forehead. “Most of it isn’t mine.”
Hector followed behind him, then pulled the half-vampire back. “Easy, boy. You ate a little while ago.”
“For God’s sake.” Eisen wheezed, then paused when she stood next to Evelyn. “Louis, please don’t eat my dead maid. She’s a traitor. Understand?”
He beelined for Amelia’s body.
Jesus, this was what her relationship looked like: stopping her undead boyfriend from drinking blood from dead bodies. If she didn’t stop him, he’d gorge himself on blood or go into a food coma. Then again, maybe he’d eat enough to feel better. He stopped himself before.
Evelyn blocked Louis and grabbed his face.
She couldn’t take that risk.
“Hey.” She kept her tone affectionate and swallowed down the rising lump in her throat. “I’m okay. It’s just a scratch. Nothing big. See?”
He licked a fang. “A scratch?”
“Yeah.” She pointed to her wound. “Nothing a few stitches and a band-aid can’t fix.”
Louis shook his head. “Unforgivable.”
“Let’s go outside.” Evelyn dragged him down the hallway. “We both need air.”
He mumbled to himself, but followed her.
Thank God. As long as he followed her, they would be okay.
Evelyn slipped her hand into his.
“Clean your wound next time.” Louis’s hand tightened around hers. “I always crave fresh blood. Darius—well, he doesn’t matter. He’s pissy because we’ve wasted a good midnight snack.”
She glowered.
Once they reached Vixens, she’d teach Simon a lesson. She’d rip the traitorous bastard to pieces. If he bought his empire of undead thralls with him, she’d kill them, too.
He’d regret not assassinating her.
* * *
Evelyn’s gracious host took a slight detour halfway through their limousine ride back to Vixens.
She would have enjoyed their ride more if Louis or Eisen didn’t try deciding everything for her. Between the three rich gangsters, she couldn’t get a word in edge-wise. Once they realized she ignored them halfway through the ride, they talked shop while they drove back into Charm City.
Evelyn stewed in her own misery.
She’d rather deal with Joe’s werewolves.
At least they would give her space. They’d help her track Simon without giving her a hard time. The werewolves became overprotective at the right times. These guys? They insisted on escorting her everywhere.
It got old after a while.
She had enough problems without their interference, but Eisen’s demands weren’t out of the ordinary. She seemed to care for her well-being and appreciate her blunt opinions. However, coddling her would upset her family. They would hunt for her.
Then all hell would break loose.
Of course, if she escaped and went with Jemina and her merry band of werewolves, she’d stay on blessed property. The holy ward couldn’t be broken by anyone except for the chosen few allowed to pass through its gates.
Damn it. Both options had their drawbacks.
She had to get to Vixens first.
Once she arrived, she’d have to distract her current entourage. They circumvented her plans at every opportunity. Intentional or not, they invited trouble wherever they went. Still, Eisen caused the disaster back at the mansion. If she’d screened Amelia, then she wouldn’t have murdered her. Simple as that.
No wonder she needed a bodyguard.
Her boss had a point, though. Evelyn excelled at her new position. She killed Amelia without a moment’s hesitation. Even in the Harbor Tunnel, she didn’t regret kicking the gunman into the highway. Then again, why should she care? They attacked her first.
Evelyn sighed.
Her survival came first.
Screw her personal feelings. She had no attachment to these people. The gunmen shot her. Amelia—well, she suspected Simon made her a turncoat or her jealousy overtook her.
Either way, it didn’t matter. They died.
She’d never return to her normal life again.
“Evie, I can’t believe you killed an innocent maiden.” Louis—no, Darius—trailed a hand up her thigh. “You should have saved her sweet blood for me, babe.”
; “It’s amazing.” Evelyn yanked on Darius’s collar. “I didn’t think about your insatiable hunger while she tried shooting me, you lunatic. You remember she shot me, right?”
“Yes.” His voice turned testy. “Your precious blood—”
“Darius.” She pulled him toward her face. “Control yourself. Don’t make Louis look like an asshole in public.”
He smirked. “Vehicles aren’t public domain.”
“Then entertain me.” Her fingers latched into his long hair. “Bring Louis back. You’re talking like a serial killer. Or a homicidal maniac. I haven’t decided which kind of killer you resemble yet.”
“Oh please.” His lips almost touched hers. “They’re not as romantic as I am, darling.”
She shoved him into the seat, shaking off a cold chill. “I didn’t know drinking blood and screwing up your relationship constituted as romantic, you bloody heathen.”
“Oh my.” Darius’s voice changed to a playful drawl. “You’re sexy when you’re on your religious soapbox, sweetie.”
He trailed a finger down the length of her cross necklace, then stopped at her cleavage. His fingernail dug into her skin.
She let out a shuddering breath.
“Will you pierce my heart with your divine cross of righteousness, too? Or will your precious Lord save you from a lifetime of sin?”
“I need a priest.” Evelyn crossed her arms. “Someone who’ll listen—”
“No priest will absolve you of your sins, babe.” The vampire’s eyes turned blood red. “You might as well get laid. It’s great for relieving all that unwanted tension.”
Sure. She’d get right on that.
After they stopped the current homicidal vampire from trying to turn her into Draculina.
“Darius.” Eisen bopped him on the head. “As entertaining as this conversation is, bring Louis back. Also, be respectable, please.”
Darius turned to Eisen. “I swear, you’re a soccer mom. They’re yummy.”
“Soccer moms don’t hire bounty hunters or have concealed to carry permits.” She trailed a hand to her waist. “If you’re finished ogling over my newest employee, let’s go. She needs a decent weapon before her stalker returns for round three.”
Vulture’s Kiss Page 17
