by Jessica Sims
Nope. Bad idea, Lindsey. He was also a people user and a man who didn’t know how to ask permission. He had no clue how to behave in a relationship.
But it wouldn’t be a relationship, I reminded myself. Rand said he had needs and that was all they were. Did I have needs, too? Could I think like a medieval vampire and have casual sex?
I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring the thought. Nope. Sex was the last thing that should have been on my mind at the moment. I was ashamed I was even thinking about it. A lot. I was thinking about it a lot. But still a bad idea.
“Hurry up, Rand,” I called through the door. “We’ll go shopping and I’ll introduce you to the magic of underwear.”
Eleven
Rand gazed down at the clothing on his body. “Are you sure this is tailored correctly?” He ran his hands down his chest, as if testing the material. “It fits tighter in some areas than I am used to. And there are so many layers.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” the saleswoman breathed in accented English. Her gaze moved over him repeatedly. “You look wonderful. Stunning. But if it’s tight somewhere, maybe I should feel—”
“You look fine,” I snapped. “We’ll take it.” I handed her my card before she could “feel” Rand’s fit again. She’d already felt it twice. That was plenty, darn it.
Rand looked more than fine, actually. I hated to admit it, but he was downright gorgeous in modern clothing. We’d headed to a department store for undergarments, then hit the road, since I couldn’t afford much of anything else at the pricey store. Instead, we’d found a resale boutique that was open late. Luckily for us, Rand happened to be a fairly common size, and his body made everything look incredible. The jeans on his hips hung slightly low, which we’d solved with a belt and lots of salivating from the saleswoman. Now Rand wore underwear and an undershirt, a pair of jeans, a leather belt, socks, leather shoes, a button-up shirt, and a casual blazer. I’d grabbed three other shirts and another pair of jeans for him, along with a T-shirt or two to complete his wardrobe for now.
It wasn’t Rand’s fault he was like a walking pheromone, right? I shouldn’t get mad that the salesclerk was practically groping him in her excitement to dress him. And I shouldn’t be jealous.
But “shouldn’t” and “were” ended up being two very different things. I didn’t like seeing Rand flirt with the salesclerk. She was young and pretty and giggled at all his words, and I wondered how her blood smelled to him. Did she taste half as good as me?
And why did I even care? I didn’t have enough blood to keep a vampire fully fed. It was clear that I sucked at donating, no pun intended. Maybe if he wasn’t flirting back, it wouldn’t matter.
Maybe maybe maybe.
Maybe I needed to stop being so proprietary with the man. He was going to be out of my life the moment we figured out the situation with Guy and the Dragon. Part of me hoped that it would turn out to be nothing but a big misunderstanding. That nothing dire had happened to his friends and they’d died in a freak accident. A boat crash. Something. Then Rand would give me a friendly little hug and waltz right back out of my life.
And I’d go back to playing with antiques. Go back to Nebraska and save my pennies for a few more years in the hopes of opening up a store . . . and . . .
I frowned to myself, following the salesclerk as she headed to the counter with my card. Why did my life sound so bland and . . . terrible? I’d worked hard to get to where I was, being my own boss and working with my best friend. I didn’t date much, and I normally didn’t have a lot of money in the bank, but it worked for me, didn’t it? I mean, I had Gemma, but beyond her I had a hard time trusting people. And she dated so much and fell in love so quickly that she often ended up disappearing for days or weeks on end, caught up in the romance of her newest relationship. And that left me with a lot of time to catch up on my TiVo, I supposed.
“Honeymoon?” the clerk asked as she scanned the tags she’d pulled from Rand’s clothing.
“Hmm?” I looked up at her, distracted.
“It is, how do you say, elope?” She smiled at me. “Your man is very handsome. We get couples in sometimes. They buy clothes because they elope.”
I felt a hot blush on my cheeks. Was it worth trying to explain? “Yes, sure,” I said instead of correcting her.
“Aha,” she said, beaming at me, and I felt guilty that I’d been glaring at the back of her head not five minutes earlier. She raised a finger in the air. “I have something for you. No charge.” She winked and pulled something out from under the counter. Plastic crinkled as she pushed it toward me.
Panties. Luridly pink crotchless panties sealed in plastic.
I stared.
She winked at me again and dropped them in the bag, along with the rest of the clothing we were purchasing. “It is on the house.”
That’s what I got for not explaining. I stammered a thank-you as Rand moved throughout the store, poking at things. “So did you bring gold?” Rand asked me.
“Gold? No, we pay with plastic now.”
“Plastic.” He mulled the word. “I do not have a grasp of what this plastic is.”
“It’s something new,” I told him. “My money is on the card.”
The salesclerk handed the card back and Rand picked it up, then flipped it over.
“ ‘On the card’ being a figure of speech,” I pointed out. “It’s actually in a bank. This little piece of plastic tells my bank what I want to purchase, and they pull the money from my account to pay for it.”
“Hmm.” Rand studied the card, then handed it back to me. “Is it safe to carry it with you?”
“As safe as anything, I suppose. Sometimes people steal credit cards, but I’m lucky so far.”
“I kept my treasure in a locked box buried in my courtyard.”
I tried not to stare at that. Instead, I watched as he picked up a brochure for women’s clothing and began to flip through it, as if fascinated by the pictures.
“Treasure?” I asked when he didn’t clarify.
“Near a wall,” he agreed. “Back at my castle in Lancashire. I buried it so it would remain safe whilst I was gone.” He looked thoughtful. “I do wonder if it’s still there.”
“I suppose we could always check,” I told him. I was always in the mood for a treasure hunt. I smiled at the thought. Imagine finding items from the fourteenth century.
The saleslady caught my smile, gave me another horrifying wink, and slid a small tube into the bag. “Is also on the house.”
Dear God, that looked like lube. My face hurt from blushing so much. “Thank you,” I murmured, praying that Rand wouldn’t ask about it. This woman needed to stop being so nice already, or I was going to die of embarrassment.
“Boots,” Rand declared.
“Hmm?” I backed away from the counter as he came to stand next to me, his hand moving to where the panties had been a scant moment ago. My face felt red-hot.
“I should like some boots,” Rand said. “Where do we find them?”
The saleslady lit up. “We have boots,” she said, gesturing at the back of the store. “What kind are you looking for?”
“I need to hide a blade—” Rand began.
“Cowboy boots,” I blurted. “Can you add it to his tab?”
“In Italy?” The saleswoman frowned. “Cowboys?”
“Okay then, whatever leather boots you have. Riding boots? Fox hunting boots? I don’t know. Just something tall.” I pinned an overly bright smile to my face and slapped the card down on the counter. “I’m going to run next door and get a coffee. I’m superthirsty. In the meantime, you two can look at boots.”
And I could hide until I stopped blushing. Crotchless panties. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
The café was actually down the street, so I slipped through the door of the boutique and sprinted down to the place. If I’d stayed in the boutique much longer, the woman might have started pulling sex toys out from under the counter, and then wouldn’t that have been an explanati
on to Rand. Oy. I headed into the small café and ordered a cappuccino to go. By the time my coffee was ready, my cheeks had cooled down and I could manage the thought of facing the salesclerk without a goofy, awkward smile on my face. With my drink in hand, I turned back up the street toward the boutique.
The streets were shadowy due to the late hour, but there were charming lampposts along the way, so it wasn’t unpleasant. There were a few people on the street, a pair of men talking and sharing a cigarette under one of the lampposts. I held my coffee close and took a sip, but it was scalding hot. I headed toward the shop and paused to fix the lid on my coffee, since it seemed to be leaking ultrahot cappuccino on my fingers.
As I did, I noticed that the streets had gotten very quiet. It was a bit unusual for a bustling city like Rome, but we weren’t in one of the busier areas. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the men who had been under the streetlight were now a good deal closer but were turned away from me.
My hackles went up.
They’d moved. They were trying to make it look like they weren’t following me, but it was obvious they were. Fear rushed through me. Okay, I needed to think. I was being followed by two guys. There could be a few reasons behind that, none of them good. They could have been pickpockets wanting my wallet. Actually, that would be the best scenario, because then I’d only be broke.
The other two scenarios were much scarier: rapists looking for easy prey . . .
. . . or vampires, looking for Rand.
I pretended to fiddle with my coffee cup for a moment longer, loosening the lid. If someone tried to touch me, they were going to get a faceful of boiling hot cappuccino. I glanced up. The boutique was just a few shops away, but there was no sign of Rand. Was he still inside flirting with the clerk? Damn it. Would I even be able to make it there?
I had to think. I took a few steps forward, then decided to fix my shoelace. I knelt down on the sidewalk and set my coffee down, and as I did, I saw a pair of legs approaching.
That did it.
I turned and screamed bloody murder, and as I did, I flung my coffee into the man’s face.
The coffee splattered on his cheeks, steam rising, and he gave a horrible cry. For a horrible moment, I thought I’d made a mistake. Did I just hurt a civilian?
But then his cry turned into a teeth-bearing hiss, and long fangs shot out.
Oh hell, I’d been right after all. “Rand!” I bellowed as I ducked to one side. A vampire grabbed my arm and swiped his sleeve over his brow. One vamp had snuck up on me while I’d attacked the other. I gave a small scream even as the vampire clenched an arm around my shoulders, pinning me against him.
He inhaled deeply, then said something in another language to his friend. His long, sharp fingernail traced the veins in my throat. I could just guess what he was saying. Yummy yummy in my tummy.
The coffee-wearing vampire spit out an epithet and gestured at me as I struggled in his friend’s arms. I could guess what he was saying, too. Kill her.
I opened my mouth to yell, when the coffee-wearing vampire’s head suddenly flew off his shoulders. Standing behind him was Rand, his sword off to one side, freshly used. Blood rained down on the sidewalks. The look on Rand’s face was that of a cold-blooded killer, his eyes narrow with concentration.
He said something to the other vampire. Something in a dark, deadly language. Something something Al Tineen.
I knew what that word was. The Dragon.
The vampire clutching me grabbed me hard, and I gasped just as hot, hard teeth sank into my neck, taking a bite out of me. Blood gushed and I screamed weakly. Why was someone trying to tear my throat out just because of who I was with? I was an innocent bystander.
As Rand surged forward with his sword in hand, an ugly snarl on his face, the world around me faded to black. Too much blood, I thought idly. Too much blood lost too fast. He must have ripped my jugular.
As I faded into darkness, I thought this wouldn’t have happened if I’d had some nice garlic food beforehand. Amused by my own thoughts, I let them carry me under.
* * *
My entire body felt like it had been run over, but my neck hurt the worst, like a raw sunburn to the tenth degree. I winced as I came to. I wanted to put a hand to my neck, but I was too exhausted. I licked dry lips and settled for an “Ow.”
Cool fingers brushed my cheek. “Lindsey.”
I opened my eyes and gazed up at Rand’s looming face. Worry creased his handsome features. “What happened?”
“Blood vassals. They are gone now.”
I frowned up at him as he helped me sit up. It seemed that I was lying on the sidewalk in an alley. Lovely. “Um, I’m still not clear on everything. Give me a moment.”
I leaned on him, surprised at how weak I was. And good gravy, my throat hurt. Even though it felt like a sandbag was attached to my hand, I lifted it and touched my neck . . . and was surprised to feel two gouges there. “What . . .”
Rand’s fingers brushed over mine. “Don’t touch it. The wound is still healing. I licked it to seal the wounds, but I’m afraid you still lost quite a bit of blood.” His hand caressed my jaw. “Are you hurting anywhere else? I nearly lost my mind when he bit you.”
“You worried because I’m your blood vassal?”
“Because he tried to tear your throat out,” Rand corrected. “Luckily I was able to dispatch him easily.” He gave a derisive snort. “The men of this time are pathetic warriors.”
A vision of the sword flashing through the air tore through my fuzzy mind. The blood spraying. The man’s head just sort of flopping off to one side as Rand’s sword cut through. Dear God. I would have been sick to my stomach if I’d had the energy for it. Instead, all I could do was swallow hard and lean against Rand’s strong shoulder. “Are you hurt?” I asked him.
“No. He was not fast enough. He knew he would die, so he attacked me where I was vulnerable—you.”
“They were vampires, Rand.”
“Yes, I know.”
My fingers dug into his arm. “I thought you said they were blood vassals.”
“There are many kinds of blood vassals, Lindsey.” His fingers rubbed at my cheek, and I realized he was probably wiping away blood. Ugh. “I am a blood vassal to the Dragon. I serve him and am bound to his will. You are a blood vassal to me because you have pledged yourself. Those men were vampires, and all vampires are blood vassals to another. I did not sense them coming, or I would not have left you alone.”
“I thought you had a vampire homing beacon in that head of yours? That it lets you learn languages and you can tell where other vampires are?”
“I am the Dragon’s vassal. That means I am tied to him. I can feel his other vassals. I can learn the languages he knows because of my blood bond. And I did not feel these men, so they were not vassals to the Dragon.”
“Then . . . who are they vassals to? I thought you said all vassals are tied to the Dragon.”
His return smile was thin. “They are not my vassals. Frederic and William are dead. Who is left?”
“Guy?”
“That can be the only assumption I can make. There are other vampires in the world, I imagine, but they would have no interest in me or my blood vassal.” His fingers rubbed my cheek again. “I am sorry you were drawn into this.”
“Me, too.” I winced as I sat up a little straighter.
“This does prove my point, however,” Rand added.
“Your point?”
“I told you weapons would come in handy.” He couldn’t resist adding a teasing note in his voice.
I snorted. “Just help me stand up.”
“Not yet.” Rand produced a few Saran Wrap–covered cookies and a scone from a bag at his side. “Eat these.”
I took one, puzzled. “Where did you get this?”
“I knew you would need this to keep up your strength. I gave the saleswoman your plastic and told her to purchase them.”
My eyes widened. “Please tell me you got my
card back from her.”
“Did you still need it? I was surprised that she kept trying to hand it back to me.” He shrugged and dug into the paper bag, then produced my Visa card.
I breathed a sigh of relief. We were not completely screwed.
“This is good, yes?” He handed it to me.
“Yes,” I said, pocketing it and taking a bite of cookie. “Are you okay? Did anyone else see the fight? What happened to their bodies?”
Rand gave me an amused look. “So many questions. Can you not relax and recover your strength, Lindsey?”
“I’m relaxing,” I said, stuffing cookie into my mouth. My energy was slowly returning, though I still felt utterly exhausted. I could not keep “donating” blood like this. “Keep talking.”
“They turn to ash once beheaded.”
I swallowed hard around a chunk of cookie. “The bodies?”
“Yes. It takes about a minute for the mental memory to cut off. Then everything turns to dust.” He made a flicking gesture with his hand. “Dust and carried away by the breeze. A fitting end for two cowards.”
“What if you didn’t behead them?” I asked, morbidly curious.
He shrugged. “If they were staked, they would have remained where they were, in limbo . . . until the sun rose, at least.”
Ah. The sun, the great vampire incinerator. “And the saleslady?” I asked between bites of cookie. “Did she freak out at the sight of the beheadings and stuff?”
“I calmed her into going back into her store. She will remember none of this.” His eyes had a familiar gleam in them.
“You totally hypnotized her, didn’t you?”
“It suited our needs.”
Ugh. Yeah, suited our needs as we manipulated and killed our way through Rome. Good Lord. “I guess it’s a good thing you had those weapons,” I told him. I finished my cookie and got to my feet. “We need to go back to our hotel room, Rand. Do you think it’s safe?”
“As safe as anywhere,” he said. “I cannot hide from either Guy or the Dragon. It will be obvious to Guy that his men failed soon enough.”
“Great,” I said weakly. “Maybe we should keep moving, then.”
