Rajmund

by D. B. Reynolds

  "My lord."

  "I've got an errand to run on the way over, Em. It won't take long."

  "I hope not,” she said dryly. “Being stuck in this warehouse is like being trapped in a monkey cage. These guys need to be let out."

  He laughed. “Not much longer. I'm on my way.” But first, he thought to himself, there's the matter of a stubborn little human to deal with.

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  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sarah pulled her sweater over her head, smoothing it over her hips and checking to make sure the lace on her bra didn't look lumpy beneath the fine weave. Her freshly shampooed hair shone in the overhead light of her bedroom, and she'd put on just enough makeup to give her eyes a slightly smoky quality, the gold flecks like bits of fire in the smoke. Oh, get a grip, Sarah. Flecks of fire in the smoke, for God's sake. She laughed at herself. Clearly she'd been reading too many of those romance novels she was so fond of.

  Of course, she was nothing like the kick-ass heroines in those books. She had never fired a gun, never used a knife—unless the ones in her kitchen drawer counted. And although she kept herself fit, there was no way she was going to high-kick anyone into submission. She was too short for one thing, and a little too curvy and five pounds too heavy, no matter how many mornings she ran her five-mile circuit. Some men liked her curves, though. Not usually the right men, but at least it proved she wasn't a total toad.

  And why was she spending so much time getting ready anyway? This wasn't a date. Quite the opposite. She intended to read Raj the riot act and send him on his way. That was it.

  "This definitely isn't a date,” she scolded her reflection for the umpteenth time. Of course, that begged the question of why she was wearing her best lace push-up bra and had taken the time to put on eye shadow in the first place. Oh well, gotta create the smoke for those flecks of fire, right?

  She laughed out loud, like a crazy person, and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her shoes. They weren't designed by anyone famous—like most women, she didn't have the budget to spend five hundred dollars on a pair of shoes. But they were nice and, more importantly, they had a four inch heel so she wouldn't feel like such a shrimp standing next to Raj. Not that this was a date or anything. She stood and turned off the overhead light as she walked out of the bedroom, ready to beard the lion in his den. Or her den. Or whatever. Because this definitely wasn't a date.

  Raj took the stairs up to Sarah's porch in a graceful leap. He was in a hurry to get over to the warehouse and didn't have time to waste pretending to be human. He put his hand on the doorknob and, finding it unlocked, twisted it open and walked in, knocking as he did so.

  He caught Sarah halfway down the stairs. She was wearing a different bra, one that made her obvious curves even more obvious beneath a soft wool sweater. And what the hell was he noticing that for? She was looking at him in shock, which quickly changed to outrage.

  "Just come on in, why don't you?"

  "I did, thanks,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. “You ever think of locking your door?"

  "What would be the point? It wouldn't stop you, would it?"

  "Nice. You about ready to leave?"

  "Leave? Are we going somewhere?"

  "Yes. I have a stop to make and then I'm taking you to dinner."

  "Are you?” she asked, in a tone that implied quite the opposite. She came down another couple of steps but stayed on the staircase which put her at eye level with him. “What happened last night? And I want the truth, not more of your vampire bullshit."

  "I wasn't aware I'd given you any vampire bullshit,” he said mildly.

  "Ha, ha. What happened, Raj? And don't say nothing, because I know damn well you did something to my memories, and it sure as hell wasn't consensual."

  Raj pulled back in surprise. First of all, she shouldn't have remembered anything, but secondly, her choice of words made him distinctly uncomfortable. He didn't take women against their will. Not ever. Not since that first night in the tavern when he'd been too out of his mind to realize what was happening. Sarah was waiting for an answer, glaring at him accusingly. She'd done something with her eyes that brought out the gray but didn't hide the gold flecks that were always there.

  "We talked about the missing women,” he said slowly. “It was . . . you were upset. More than upset. I didn't understand why, but it bothered me to see you like that, so I put you out and took away the memories so you wouldn't have nightmares."

  It was a version of the truth, anyway. She hadn't been upset precisely, although she'd definitely been out of control. And he didn't want to add to her nightmares by inflicting himself on her life.

  Sarah was watching him, searching his face, looking for the truth, he figured. He stared back at her calmly and knew the moment she decided to believe him. “Don't ever do that again, Raj,” she said softly. “Not for any reason. My memories are mine, good and bad, and I'll deal with them. I can't stand the idea of anyone messing around in my head."

  There was more to that than what she was saying, and it made him wonder what had happened in her past. Did it have anything to do with whatever she was hiding? “I'm sorry,” he said.

  She smiled all at once, as if he'd surprised her. “Well, that's something you don't hear every day.” Her expression abruptly became serious again and she gave him a funny look. “Er, Raj, we didn't, that is, um . . . we didn't—"

  "Sarah,” he said softly, catching her eyes. “If I'd made love to you, you'd remember it."

  Her face flushed a delightful pink. “Arrogant bastard,” she muttered, but she smiled at him again, and he felt a weight lift from his soul. “Okay. Let me get my coat."

  He watched her walk past him down the rest of the stairs, watched her tight ass swing by beneath a pair of dark blue slacks, with those damn sexy heels she was always wearing. “Better make it a heavy coat,” he said. “It's cold out. Maybe the one you had on the other night.” The one that hides the temptation of your sweet little body, he added to himself.

  "Okay,” she said agreeably and pulled out the long, brown coat. He took it from her, holding it while she slipped it on, sliding it up over her shoulders. He let himself run his hands down her arms ending with a light brush of fingertips, but resisted the urge to bury his face in the warm gold of her hair.

  Jesus, Raj, you're in trouble.

  She looked up at him over her shoulder. “So you're taking me to dinner? Are you hungry?” she asked innocently.

  "Are you offering?” he couldn't help retorting.

  She snorted delicately. “In your dreams, bud."

  He leaned down to murmur directly in her ear, “Or maybe in yours, sweetheart."

  She shivered and he smiled in satisfaction. He might not have any intention of taking her, but he didn't want her completely immune to him either.

  Sarah pulled the door open, but he stepped in front of her, his attention directed next door where someone was watching once again. “Your neighbor pays a lot of attention to who comes and goes here."

  "That's just Mrs. M.,” she said blithely, walking around him and out onto the porch. She gave him a warning look. “She keeps on eye on me."

  "You get a lot of male visitors?"

  "Not at all,” she said, patting his arm, as if he needed reassurance. “Mrs. M.'s just a bit overprotective."

  Good, he thought. But he kept it to himself. “Lock your door,” he instructed her.

  "Yessir, Mr. Raj, sir."

  He walked ahead of her down the stairs. It was going to be a long night.

  Sarah watched Raj out of the corner of her eye as he maneuvered through the Friday night traffic. He seemed different tonight, still friendly and overprotective, but cooler somehow, except for that one slip about being hungry, which had been a pretty stupid thing for her to say. She hadn't meant it as a come-on. Had she? She had to admit she was attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? He had that whole tall, dark and handsome vibe going, except he was blond and blue-eyed, of course. His
hair was thick, brushed straight back to his collar, just long enough that she wondered what it would look like if he let it grow even longer, maybe past his shoulders. And with those gorgeous blue eyes, kind of an icy blue, except for when they burned with an undeniable heat. She shivered inside her warm coat. Yeah. She was definitely attracted to him. And sometimes she was sure he was attracted to her too, but then it was like he threw a switch and disappeared behind that all-business exterior.

  "You're different from the others,” she said suddenly.

  In spite of the busy traffic, he turned to stare at her, his eyes practically glowing in the dim light. “Others?” he asked, his voice so low and deep it was nearly a growl.

  Sarah licked her lips nervously. “The other vampires here in Buffalo."

  "You've met other vampires here in Buffalo?"

  There was something about the way he said it, the way he was looking at her, that suddenly made her aware she was trapped in a car with a vampire. A very big, dangerous vampire. She was sorry she'd brought the whole thing up now, but he was waiting for an explanation, so she said, “Sort of. I mean, I didn't actually meet anyone, but there was a University reception last year. It was supposed to be a showcase of local Buffalo talent. Manhattan's gotten so expensive that some people are actually moving back to Buffalo to live. Not many, of course, but someone decided it couldn't hurt to remind people that there is a major university here, with a medical center and lots of eggheads and artists. It's not Manhattan, but it's not Outer Mongolia either."

  Raj gave her a skeptical look. “The vampires?” he reminded her.

  "Right. Well, I'm just a historian, and a junior one at that, but my friend Linda—you met her the other night—her husband's kind of a star in the art department."

  He nodded, and Sarah thought it was possible she'd told him about it last night and didn't remember. “Well,” she continued, “they invited me to go with them to the reception. All the local bigwigs were there including your boss, Krystof Sapieha."

  "He's not my boss,” Raj snapped.

  Sarah frowned in confusion. “But I thought he was the local vampire lord, and that—"

  "It's complicated. Go on with your story,” he commanded.

  She gave him a dirty look—he really was going to have to stop giving her orders. “Anyway, Sapieha was only there for maybe an hour or so with a couple of other vamps—bodyguards, I guess—although I wasn't too impressed."

  "No?” Raj gave her a quick, amused glance before switching his gaze back to the road to stop at a red light. “What did you expect?"

  "Giant eunuchs. You know, gold earrings and stuff."

  He laughed. “I'm sure they were quite capable, despite their absence of gold and gelding, and there were probably others in the crowd you didn't know about. Krystof is very aware of his own safety."

  "Maybe. But I thought it would be interesting to meet him. You know, because of Cyn and Raphael. I figured they're probably friends."

  "You spoke to Krystof?"

  She was suddenly aware that the light had turned green but they were still sitting there. Raj was regarding her intently, overwhelming her, not just with his size, but with a sense of menace, as if everything rested on whatever she said next.

  "No,” she said carefully. “I tried to, but he was talking to this woman, like really involved, you know? I went over anyway, but when I got too close, one of the other vamps stopped me.” She shrugged. “Maybe Krystof was lining up his next meal or something. He left right after that."

  Raj seemed satisfied with her answer. At least he relaxed so that she no longer felt as if her life hung on her next words. He glanced up at the light and accelerated across the intersection. “Just as well,” he said at last. “Krystof is very old,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  He turned into an industrial area not far from the airport, taking several turns until they were driving along a dark side road, fronted by what looked like a bunch of abandoned warehouses. He pulled into the parking lot of one of those warehouses and stopped right by the door. Sarah looked around, leaning forward to see through the windshield. There were no other cars anywhere and no lights coming from inside. “You're living up to your stereotype, you know,” she said.

  "Stereotype?"

  "Big, bad vampire, innocent, helpless female, abandoned warehouse, middle of the night. You know. Stereotype."

  "I've done nothing lately that was bad, and you are hardly helpless and probably not that innocent either,” he added with a sidelong smirk. “Also, this warehouse is not abandoned. I will give you middle of the night, however. Think of it as vampire noon."

  "A sense of humor? Be careful, Raj, your stereotype is slipping."

  When he didn't so much as crack a smile, Sarah thought maybe he didn't have a sense of humor after all. Leaving the keys in the ignition and the car running, he turned and met her eyes directly.

  "Wait in the car. I'll only be a few minutes."

  "Yes, Master,” she intoned.

  He shook his head and climbed out. Before he'd taken two steps, the warehouse door opened and a woman emerged—a tall, beautiful woman who Raj looked awfully happy to see. Curious, Sarah opened her car door, intending to join the party.

  The woman looked over at the sound and grinned. “Who's for dinner?” she asked, jerking her chin in Sarah's direction.

  Raj glanced quickly over his shoulder and turned to face Sarah, blocking her view of the other woman. “Get back in the car,” he ordered grimly.

  "Don't be a party pooper, boss,” the woman said clearly. “Let your little friend join us."

  Raj spun back around, and Sarah saw his fangs flash for the first time. “Shut the fuck up, Em!"

  The woman's playful expression froze at his words, but what replaced it was not outrage, which Sarah would have expected from a girlfriend. Instead the woman dropped to her knees, head bowed. “My lord,” she murmured. “Forgive me."

  Sarah stared from the kneeling woman to Raj and wondered if she should be afraid too.

  "Get back in the car, Sarah,” he repeated, walking toward her, his fangs once more out of sight.

  Wait. My lord? This woman was a vampire?

  Sarah heard Raj swear softly as she stepped around him, walked over to the woman and stuck out her hand. “Sarah Stratton,” she said.

  The woman gave Raj a startled look, her eyes questioning. He made a disgusted noise and gestured his okay. The female vampire stood and took Sarah's hand, shaking it firmly. Not one of those fingers-only girly shakes, but a real handshake. “Emelie,” she said. “No last name, like Prince,” she added with a quirked smile.

  Raj snorted and Emelie scowled at him over Sarah's shoulder. “Everyone's waiting for you, my lord,” she said pointedly.

  "Give us a minute,” Raj said.

  "As you wish,” Emelie replied. “Nice meeting you, Sarah. Maybe next time we can actually have a conversation."

  "Over my dead body,” Raj muttered.

  "Too late,” Emelie said sweetly, and strolled back into the warehouse, closing the door behind her.

  Sarah spun around as soon as she was gone. “My lord?” she repeated.

  Raj closed his eyes briefly and then opened them, giving her a patient look. “Vampires live a long time. We've developed a highly structured society in order to survive, for protection from each other as well as from humans with torches and stakes. When that structure was first conceived, there was no such thing as a democracy. And it wouldn't work anyway. Vampires are more than just humans who stay awake at night.” He stepped closer suddenly and locked his gaze with hers. “Remember that, Sarah. Vampires are dangerous and unpredictable, no matter how human they might appear."

  "Okay,” she said in a small voice. “I'm properly terrified."

  He moved back a bit. “No need to be afraid of Em."

  "Are you two . . .” She let the words fall away, embarrassed that she'd even asked the question.

  Raj smiled a little too smugly. “W
ould it bother you if we were?"

  "No, of course not. I just—"

  "Well, we're not. Em's my best friend and my lieutenant. But there's never been anything else between us."

  "Oh. Well. Okay.” Sarah cleared her throat nervously. “So what now?"

  "Now, you get back in the car and stay there. This won't take long.” He took her arm and bundled her back into the BMW, shutting the door firmly. “Stay there,” he said through the window as she hit the button to lower it. “And put the window back up. Emelie's not the only vampire in there."

  As he walked away from the car, Sarah thought she heard him mutter, “And I've no intention of sharing.” But she might have been wrong.

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  Chapter Twenty-three

  Raj did a final scan of the area, checked that Sarah was sitting in the hopefully locked car as promised and pulled open the warehouse door, ready to apologize to Em. The lights were on inside, too low for human eyes but just right for a vampire. And the large space was no longer empty. Four big SUVs, all black with black-tinted windows, were parked near the loading bay doors. Over near the big refrigerator, the eight members of the team Emelie had brought from Manhattan were engaged in various activities. Some lounged, watching the big screen TV, wearing cordless headphones to preserve the facade of silence from outside the warehouse. Others were checking gear, mostly guns and knives. Vampires didn't need much in the way of hardware. With their strength, speed and fangs, they were their own deadliest weapon. But a gun came in handy sometimes, and knives were always fun.

  Em was in conversation with Abel, one of Raj's oldest and most reliable children. Abel caught Raj's eye and nodded to him, the big diamond in his ear winking happily against his nearly black skin. Emelie finished whatever she'd been saying and walked over, detouring around a table loaded down with computer gear and electronics. The team's tech wizard, a human named Simon, was set up there, fingers flying over a keyboard while ear pods blasted music so loudly that Raj could hear it from where he stood.