Vincent lowered his head to give her a mischievous look. “Is that a challenge?”
She shook her head with a smile. “I’m not that foolish. But we really do have to find Xuan.”
“All right,” he conceded. “We should change hotels anyway. If Harrington found us, others can, too.”
“He’s probably been tracking my cell phone. This is the first time we’ve stayed in one place long enough for him to catch up with us.”
“Another good reason to move. Let’s pack up and get out of here. We’ll get you some food and I’ll make some calls. Xuan’s not the only vampire in Pénjamo. It’s time I reminded the locals of who’s in charge.”
“You mean Enrique?” Lana asked, feigning innocence.
Vincent growled and grabbed her by the lapels, yanking her face up to his and laying a hard, fast kiss against her sweet mouth. “Me, querida, and don’t you forget it.”
“Pfftt. As if.” With that dismissal, she slammed a kiss of her own against his lips, then disengaged his fingers from her robe and walked back into the bathroom, leaving him to wonder how it was that he could be falling for a woman who didn’t seem to need him at all.
Chapter Eighteen
WHILE LANA ATE dinner in the restaurant, Vincent sipped a glass of wine, for appearances’ sake, and made phone calls, beginning with Michael.
“Sire,” his lieutenant answered.
“Mikey, what have you got for me?”
“First off, the ducklings are doing well. Jerry just needed a few good feedings, and he’s already walking patrol with one of the regulars. Salvio’s a bit harder to connect with. He doesn’t seem as blood-deprived as Jerry—”
“He killed a bunch of guards just before we found him. I’m guessing he fed.”
“That explains it. He seems a little uneasy, but he’s starting patrol tonight. I thought to keep the two of them together, but Salvio seemed reluctant.”
“Problem?”
“I don’t think so. We’ll see how he adjusts, but for now, he’s working security at the club, backing up the door. I’ve got Ortega keeping an eye on him since he knows the history.”
“Good idea. And Carolyn?” he asked, covering his mouth and speaking so softly that Lana wouldn’t hear.
“I haven’t seen her since we got back, but I’m getting nightly reports. Physically, she’s fully recovered, of course. As for the other, it might be a while before she’s comfortable being around males of any species, but she’s okay with the other women. She’s strong.”
“She’d have to be to survive that and stay sane.”
“Speaking of insanity, jefe, I got word from my source inside Enrique’s HQ today, and it’s not good. He says Alexandra’s dead.”
“Fuck. Enrique killed her?”
“Not Enrique. A visitor from France. The same one who masterminded the assassination attempt on Raphael in Acuña. Word is that he’s still in Mexico City, hiding out in Enrique’s villa.”
“Why is he still there? You’d think he’d be running for home, especially since he was stupid enough to kill Raphael’s sister.”
“No one seems to know. Raphael must already know she’s dead, right?”
“Count on it. Damn, this situation just gets more and more complicated. Fuck. All right, one thing at a time. Did you find anything to help me with Xuan Ignacio? I’d like to find the guy and get this over with.”
“The bloom is off the rose already?”
“Hell, no. What I’d like is to spend a few quality weeks with this particular rose at the house in Cabo. No visitors, no politics.”
“Huh.”
Vincent frowned at the phone. “Huh, what?”
“Oh, uh, nothing. Just checking my notes. And, yes, I do have some help for you. Celio—you remember him, the older vamp who claimed to have seen Xuan—”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Well, wanting to please your magnificent self, he devoted himself to thinking back over the years and came up with a name for you. It’s another vamp like him. Old, but not strong. Still living in Pénjamo.” Michael paused. “Do you ever think about how many guys there must be like that, living out in the world? Really old vamps hanging out in small villages, getting by on a sip from a lovely young thing—girl or boy—”
As Michael went on being clever, Vincent was caught up in the sight of Lana taking a drink of her Coke. Her lips, full and wet with some pink stuff she’d put on them upstairs, wrapped around the thick straw as she sucked . . . He placed his hand over hers on the table, curling their fingers together. Lana looked up and met his eyes with a soft smile.
And all Vincent could think about was getting her naked and beneath him as soon as possible.
“—no power, but not worried about it, because there are vamps like you maintaining order in the land,” Michael finished.
“You know, Mikey,” Vincent said, his gaze never leaving Lana. “I can’t say I ever thought about it. But you know what I can say?”
“I’m guessing it’s that you don’t give a fuck about it either.”
“Smart man. I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Now tell me what Celio has to say that will help me find Xuan.”
“His friend knows Xuan’s current whereabouts, and he’s willing to meet with you.”
“Excellent. Text me the info.”
“As we speak.”
“I’ll call you later,” Vincent said and disconnected. Then he turned to Lana. “We have a meeting with a guy who knows where to find Xuan.”
“That was quick. Who is he?”
“An old friend of Celio’s who still lives in the area.”
“How soon?”
“I need to call him and set it up, but not here. I’ll call from the road.”
Lana disengaged her hand and immediately started gathering her things, getting ready to leave. She took a final sip of her drink, wiped her mouth, checked the bill, and put some money on the table . . . but the only thing Vincent was thinking about was how much he missed the warmth of her fingers in his.
He blinked and gave himself a mental slap on the head. What the fuck? He was a love-’em-and-leave-’em-happy guy. He wasn’t some lovesick teenage girl.
“You ready?” he asked. When Lana glanced over at him in surprise, he realized his voice might have been a bit hard.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry. It just feels like we’re finally doing what we started out to do in the first place.”
“Too many side trips,” she observed.
“Exactly.”
“So let’s go see a man about a thing.”
Vincent chuckled and dropped an arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the restaurant. “You’ve been reading too many cop stories.”
“Are there any other kind?”
“Good point.”
“YOU’RE SURE THIS is current?” Vincent asked. He was speaking to Celio’s old friend, using the in-dash speaker function as they drove to Pénjamo.
“Unless you’ve scared him away. He know you’re coming?”
Lana thought the other vampire’s voice sounded old, like human old, and she wondered what he looked like. Was it possible that some humans got turned when they were close to the end of their lives? And if so, what happened then? Did the vampire virus or whatever start repairing them so they would eventually look young again? Or were they stuck being old forever? Surely, at least their health improved. They wouldn’t have to endure immortality with arthritis or brittle bones, would they?
“You should have a care whom you’re speaking to, old man,” Vincent growled.
“What’re you gonna do, chase me down and kill me because I don’t kiss your ass?”
Lana’s eyes went wide.
&nb
sp; “If you fuck this up, I just might,” Vincent snapped, then slammed his fist against the on-screen disconnect button.
Of course, the screen wasn’t designed for smashing fists, so they could still hear the old vampire on the other end muttering about fucking vampire lords who think their shit don’t stink, just because they got the best of the genetic lottery before Lana touched the screen with her finger and disconnected the call.
“Ignore him,” she said calmly. “He’s an unhappy old man. All we care about is whether his information is good. Do you think it is?”
“Probably,” Vincent admitted grudgingly, obviously still pissed. “I don’t know anything about him except what Celio told me, but there’s no reason for him to lie. There’s nothing for him in this either way.”
“He sounded old.”
“Yeah, so? We knew he was old. Celio told us.”
“But he sounded like an old human, with a quavering voice and stuff. Do vamps eventually age like that?”
Vincent seemed to think about it. “Some do. It’s as if their brains can’t sustain them anymore, even the strong ones. The last Lord of the Northeast was like that. To look at him, you’d have thought he was no more than thirty. But his mind was shot to hell.”
“What happened?”
“His lieutenant took him out.”
“Kind of a mercy killing?”
Vincent bared his teeth. “I don’t think Rajmund had much mercy on his mind at the time. The quickest way for a vamp to get dead is to threaten another powerful vampire’s mate.”
Lana absorbed that bit of information, then asked, “So where are we going, then?”
“South of the city, in the foothills. The guy says it won’t show up on GPS, but he’s been there once or twice. He’s texting me some natural markers that will get us there.”
“How far do you think it is?”
“Sixty, seventy miles. It’ll take us two hours or so. Why, are you in a hurry?”
“I’m curious. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess I am. It’s unusual enough that Raphael sent a private message to one of Enrique’s vampires. But when he made it personal, sending you to me specifically, making it clear that he wants me there for the delivery, there’s obviously something up. How did he know I wouldn’t go right to Enrique with it? Hell, how’d he know I wouldn’t take you and the message both to Enrique?”
“Why didn’t you?” Lana asked, ignoring the chill that shivered along her spine at the very idea. She hadn’t thought about that possibility. If she had, she’d probably have sent the money back and told Cyn and Raphael to find another messenger.
Vincent reached out and took her hand, the same way he had in the restaurant. It made her heart flutter and her stomach kind of queasy. She wanted to trust her heart, but she had a feeling her stomach had the right idea.
“I couldn’t pass up the chance to go on a private road trip with you, could I?”
Lana scoffed noisily.
“You underestimate yourself, querida. But I admit I was intrigued by the mystery of Raphael’s request. That you were the messenger was a beautiful bonus.”
He squeezed her fingers and Lana got that queasy feeling in her stomach again.
“Well . . . two more hours and you’ll know everything, won’t you?”
“We’ll know,” he amended. “You’re a part of this, too.”
Lana wanted to believe that, wanted to believe there was a we in their future. The problem was, she couldn’t see a future that included her and Vincent together.
IT WAS A GOOD thing the old vampire had sent that list of natural markers, Vincent thought to himself. It was also a damn good thing that his vehicle was both four-wheel drive and had an armored undercarriage, or they’d have bottomed out and been hung up on some rock a long time ago. The so-called road they were following was barely a dirt track. If it hadn’t had two barely visible, parallel lines of dirt amidst the scrub, he’d have assumed it was nothing but an animal trail and ignored it. But it was obvious that someone was using it on an infrequent but regular basis, and every single one of the old vamp’s markers was showing up where he’d said they would. So they kept going.
“Xuan Ignacio must really want to be left alone,” Lana commented.
That was the most she’d said in the past few hours. Other than a word or two pointing out upcoming turns, she’d been unusually quiet. Not that she was normally a chatterbox, but there was emotion beneath her silence this time. A human wouldn’t have sensed it, but he did. His vamp powers were good for more than just tripping along his victim’s memories. He had the full complement of vampire telepathic abilities all amped up by the power that made him a potential vampire lord. And his vamp senses were telling him that Lana was thinking. In his experience, when a woman started thinking, he needed to start worrying.
“Almost there,” she told him, checking the text on his cell phone. “One more turn.”
“You ready for this?”
She glanced at him, then back at the road. “I should be asking you that. You’re the—Wow, look at that organ cactus! It’s huge.”
Vincent eyed the giant cactus that was looming in the headlights like a space alien, then he looked over at Lana.
She noticed his amused expression and blushed hotly. “Sorry. I’ve just never seen one that big. That’s your turn by the way. The house shouldn’t be far now.”
Vincent had to slow almost to a stop to make the sharp left-hand turn, and even then that stupid cactus that Lana admired so much scraped along the side of his SUV, making his teeth grind in irritation. Michael laughed at him about it all the time, but Vincent liked his vehicles to look good. And that didn’t include fucking cacti scratches all down the driver’s side.
“Smoke,” Lana said suddenly. “I thought I saw smoke in the headlights.”
Vincent nodded. He smelled it. “When we get there, you stay behind me, querida, until we know what’s what. This is a vampire we’re dealing with. One who’s wily enough to have survived a very long time.”
He brought the SUV to a halt twenty or so feet from the front door, and sat for a moment, sending a tendril of his power out, sliding it through the cracks of the stone block house in front of him, wanting to learn as much as he could before knocking on the front door.
“There’s one vampire inside,” he informed Lana softly. “No one else.”
“Does he know you’re here?” she asked, whispering, as if the vampire could hear them from inside the house.
“He knows someone’s here. But I’ve been masking my signature. Not to brag or anything, but I’m a major power. I didn’t want him to freak out.”
“Not to brag or anything,” she repeated dryly.
Vincent shrugged. “It is what it is. Whoever’s inside that house isn’t in my league. Still, there’s something . . .” He tilted his head, curious. He didn’t know if the vampire inside was Xuan Ignacio, but whoever it was, there was something oddly familiar about the feel of him, as if the vamp was someone Vincent should know.
“What is it?” Lana asked.
Vincent frowned, shaking his head. “A taste of . . . something. A connection. It might simply be that we were both sired by Enrique, but I’ve never . . . Never mind. I’ll know more once I touch him. You ready? You’ve got the envelope?”
“Right here,” she said.
Vincent noted the steadiness of her voice and hands as she opened her door, and he felt oddly proud of her courage. He shook away such fanciful thoughts and flicked the headlights down to parking lights only. There was enough of a moon that he didn’t need them, but Lana would. He opened his own door and slid out of the SUV, walking around to meet her. He didn’t take her hand, although he wanted to. But, like her, he understood the necessity of keeping one’s hands free in potentially-hostile si
tuations.
Not that he was sensing any hostility from the vampire inside. If anything, there was . . .
The door swung back, and a vampire stood framed in the opening, orange light dancing behind him from the glow of a fireplace.
“Vincent,” the vampire said in a voice full of emotion. “I knew you would find me someday.”
Chapter Nineteen
VINCENT FELT LANA’S eyes upon him as he stared at the vampire who was called Xuan Ignacio. He was short of stature, with black hair and the broad, flat features that spoke of indigenous roots, Central American or Mexican. Vincent was certain he didn’t know this vampire, but he also felt sure that he should know him. It was just one more question on a journey that was already full of them. Too many questions. It was time for some fucking answers.
Without warning, Vincent shed the mask he’d donned for Xuan’s comfort and loosed the full measure of his power. It roared through his blood, thrumming along every nerve, flexing muscles, expanding his lungs almost to bursting, and lighting the copper glow of his eyes. They hit the figure of Xuan Ignacio like a spotlight, burning twice as hot as the flames at his back inside the cabin.
Vincent waited for the vamp to react, but Xuan only smiled, almost proudly, as if he’d expected his visitor to be exactly who and what he was. The vampire then addressed Lana, starting forward with an outstretched hand and, speaking in accented English. “Forgive me, I didn’t introduce myself. My name is—”
He didn’t get any further than that. Vincent stepped in front of Lana, shielding her from Xuan’s approach even though he knew she wouldn’t thank him for it. Her anger pulsed at his back, but it was far better to have her angry and alive, than dead. Or worse.
“Who are you?” Vincent demanded.
The vampire pulled his hand back and looked up at Vincent. “My name is Xuan Ignacio. But you already know that, Vincent Kuxim.”
“How do you know me?”
“Everyone knows Enrique’s powerful lieutenant,” Xuan said mildly. “But what brings you to my door?”
Vincent (Vampires in America Book 8) Page 29
