“I own the building,” Vincent said in her ear. She spun around, happier than she should have been to find him next to her. It was a little disconcerting to be the only human in the crowd. “The penthouse is mine alone,” he continued, “but there are eight other units all occupied by my people.” He held her arm as they entered the elevator, pulling her against his side while Michael and two other vamps she’d never met piled in after them forming a solid wall of muscle in front of the door.
“Eight units?” she repeated. “Four to a floor?”
Vincent nodded. “There aren’t any units on the ground floor, but there’s a pool and a complete gym, as well as the building’s offices.”
“Do you come here often?” she asked. She’d gotten the impression that he avoided Mexico City, and yet here was this very expensive building and a whole bunch of vampires who seemed to have been just waiting for his arrival.
“It was necessary from time to time. I have duties as Enrique’s lieutenant.”
“There’s more to it than that, though,” she commented.
Vincent hugged her close and put his lips to her ear. “There is, but not here.”
Lana nodded. One didn’t discuss plans for a coup while standing in the elevator, no matter who owned the building.
The penthouse floor turned out to be half residence and half strategy center. To the right, as they exited the elevator, were a couple of nice office desks, fitted with phones and computers. Beyond that was an open seating area complete with a big wall-mounted flat screen TV that was muted and tuned to—what else?—CNN. A pair of open doors off the seating area revealed a big, empty conference room, with a wooden table and leather chairs in front of a wall of windows.
Everything was supersized. Big spaces, big furniture, big screen TV. But what struck Lana more than anything else was the utter lack of noise. It was as if they’d entered an acoustic chamber where no sound penetrated from the outside, while everyone inside was afraid to disturb the silence. Except there was nobody here. She figured that would change once the gang from downstairs made their way up. But for now, it was almost eerie—an empty space waiting to be filled.
Vincent pulled her attention away from the office area, taking her hand and leading her to the left, their footsteps making no sound on the deep pile carpet as they made their way to a second set of double doors. Like those guarding the conference room, they were nearly floor to ceiling, around ten feet tall, and lacquered a uniform black with no embellishment other than the burnished steel hardware. The difference was that these doors were secured by a digital keypad which sat to the right of the doors and included a biometric lock with a scanner. Vincent entered an eight digit code, pressed his thumb on the scanner, and the doors popped open.
“We’ll scan you into the system tonight,” Vincent commented. “No one but the two of us and Michael will have access to this suite.”
Lana nodded, secretly relieved. With the sudden appearance of so many strange vampires whose only job seemed to be keeping Vincent safe, she’d been a little concerned. She knew some people lived with a constant security presence and eventually forgot the guards were there, but she’d never wanted to be one of them. She liked her privacy too much.
Once they entered Vincent’s condo, however, all worries about privacy and too many guards fled her thoughts, replaced by a single certainty . . . she didn’t belong here.
The room was breathtaking—high ceilings and an entire wall of glass with a view that felt like it went on forever. She knew there were many days in Mexico City where the air quality was crap and the haze closed in, but tonight, with clear skies and the waning half-moon high in the sky, the lights of the city lit up the valley floor in a way that told her they were on a rising edge of the basin.
This was expensive real estate. Really expensive. And Vincent owned the entire damn building. Even if he hadn’t been handsome and charming, he was rich enough to get any woman he wanted. So what was he doing with her? Maybe when he’d tried to persuade her to stay behind earlier, he’d actually wanted her to stay behind, rather than being concerned for her safety.
She sighed and wandered into the bedroom, which, like everything else in this penthouse, was built on a huge scale. The furnishings were dark and masculine, the wooden furniture heavy and deeply stained. The bed was enormous and clearly custom-made. Granted, Vincent was a big man. But even he didn’t need all that space, unless he was hosting orgies. Which, for all she knew, was exactly what he did.
Lana pushed on into the extravagant bathroom, but instead of being soothed or even delighted by the beautiful fixtures and the shower big enough for six, everything she saw only raised the volume on the whispering voice inside her head, the one repeating over and over again that she didn’t belong here.
“Lana?”
She spun around to find Vincent leaning against the doorframe, studying her with a concerned look. She wondered how long he’d been there and what he’d seen on her face in the meantime. He might not be able to read her mind, but he could read her body language well enough.
“This is lovely,” she said, meaning it. She didn’t tell him that she felt like a total intruder. That she was almost afraid to touch anything for fear of leaving her grubby fingerprints behind.
He glanced around as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s nice. I haven’t stayed here that much.”
“Why have it then?”
“Because I knew this day would come, and appearances matter, especially to vampires. If I’m to unseat Enrique, I need to look like a vampire lord.”
She smiled weakly. “I’d say you succeeded.”
He walked over and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You okay? You seem—”
“Tired,” she supplied, sparing him the search for a suitable adjective. “And hungry. There must be a kitchen here somewhere, yes?”
Vincent frowned, clearly not buying her excuse, but willing to let her get away with it for now. “There’s a kitchen,” he said, “but probably no food. Maybe some blood, since they knew I was coming, but that doesn’t do you any good,” he said with a forced chuckle.
Lana nodded. “That’s all right. I’m sure there’s a grocery store nearby. And you must have meetings to go to.”
His scowl deepened, but he nodded.
“Right. So, I’ll go to the store, then make myself some dinner and maybe take a swim. We can meet here later.”
Vincent studied her a moment too long. “You’re going to be here when I get back, right?”
Lana fought back the blush that would have given her away, because she’d actually considered going straight to the airport and catching a flight home. Mexico City had a big airport; she was sure there were plenty of flights going her way.
But just as she’d considered it, she’d rejected it. Vincent deserved better than that, because regardless of what other feelings she might harbor for him, they were partners. And partners didn’t desert each other on the eve of battle.
“Of course I’ll be here,” she assured him, as if any other suggestion was absurd. “You think I’m going to leave without trying out that shower?”
Vincent gave her a slow smile, and he seemed to relax. But there was nothing relaxed about the hard brand of possession in his kiss, nor the deep warning in his voice when he slid his lips up to her ear and said, “I’ll hold you to that, querida.”
Lana kissed him back, letting him think it was anticipation that caused the tremble of emotion that rippled over her frame. But it was the unmistakable threat in his words that made her shiver, that told her he’d find her no matter how far she ran.
VINCENT DIDN’T WANT to leave Lana. There was something going on in her lovely head, something he couldn’t quite figure out. He would in time, but time was in short supply this evening. He had people to meet with, vampires who’d risked ever
ything to show up here tonight. There would be no going back after this. Plotting to assassinate one’s lord wasn’t something a vampire did lightly, or in secret.
Enrique would know he was in town, and why. Vincent could take tonight to shore up his support, to reassure his loyal vampires that he had what it took to defeat Enrique and become the new Lord of Mexico. And even more importantly, that, as their lord, he would be a better ruler. Enrique had many allies but few friends. His centuries-long rule had been based purely on strength and the certain knowledge that disloyalty would be met with brutal death.
Vincent wasn’t naïve enough to think he could rule benevolently. He was about to become a vampire lord, not a priest. Most vampires lived quiet lives and wanted only to be left alone. But those few who didn’t, the ones who would form Vincent’s court and warrior cadre, they needed to know that force would be met with force, disloyalty with death.
But they also needed to know that loyalty would be rewarded, and that the wealth of the territory would be shared among those who created it, not hoarded and doled out to anyone who kissed his ass, as Enrique had done.
Unfortunately, all of that had to be conveyed tonight. He wanted to stay with Lana, to make love to her in that giant bed until she didn’t have the strength left to even think about leaving him. But he had a duty, a responsibility to the vampires who’d already put their lives on the line simply by agreeing to meet him.
He had to put his faith in Lana’s word and his feelings in the kiss that they shared, although he couldn’t stop himself from whispering a warning in her delicate ear. “I’ll hold you to that, querida.”
She could run, but she couldn’t hide. Not from him. She shivered and he knew she’d caught the underlying message of his words.
He strode through the living room of the suite, turning to face her when they reached the front doors. “You’ll have a guard with you wherever you go.”
She grimaced. “I don’t need that. I don’t like strangers—”
“I know, and I’m sorry. But it’s necessary.”
“What if I wait until daytime?” she argued. “All the bad guys will be asleep, right?”
Vincent’s heart twinged at the suggestion that she wouldn’t be sleeping with him, but he didn’t let it show. After all, she was human and needed sunshine. He should probably get used to the idea, since that wouldn’t change.
“Daytime is no guarantee of safety,” he told her, sliding his hand down her arm and linking their fingers together. “Enrique has human guards, just like I do. If you’d rather, I can assign one of them to you instead of a vamp. That way, it won’t matter what time it is.”
Lana tilted her head back and forth unhappily, but eventually nodded her agreement. “Okay. I guess that works. When do I meet him?”
“I’ll have someone sent up now. I’ll wait until he gets here.”
“That’s not necessary. I promised you—”
“I’ll wait,” Vincent insisted, not quite trusting her intentions. “Besides, you need to be scanned into the security system before you leave, and you’ll need the code.” The buzzer on the door sounded, and he said, “That’ll be Michael.”
“I thought you said he had access.”
“He does. But as long as we’re here together, he won’t use it. Come on, let’s get your print in the system, so you can go shopping. You’ll feel better once you’ve had some real food.”
Lana stepped away when he opened the door, her fingers slipping away from his. Vincent told himself that she only backed off because he needed to open the door for Michael, but that didn’t explain why it felt like she was pulling away a lot more than her hand.
Chapter Twenty-Three
VINCENT SHOVED open the vehicle door as soon as Ortega brought the SUV to a rolling stop in front of his building. Only one night, and he was already tired of the security protocols that surrounded his comings and goings. One of the things he’d miss after he killed Enrique and became Lord of Mexico was the freedom to move around unencumbered by all of this ceremony. As he’d told Lana, he understood the need for it. At least half of it was only for appearances, but the other half dealt with real security issues. He could defend himself, but a territorial lord was a big fucking target, and it would serve no one if he spent all of his energy fighting off every David who thought to take down Goliath.
Still, it grated on him. He’d had to leave the condo building earlier. His supporters were rallying around, but not everyone could, or should, come to him. It made better sense for him to go to some of them, rather than have them all show up here. Especially since Enrique almost certainly had someone watching. Better to leave the old lord guessing as to which of the vampires in his court would support him in the final challenge tomorrow.
But that wasn’t what was bothering Vincent, wasn’t what had made him rush back to the condo tonight. What had been nagging from the corners of his mind all night long was his last conversation with Lana. Everything had happened so quickly, he was sure she was feeling overwhelmed, maybe even threatened as the only human in a building full of vampires. After all, in the space of a few hours, they’d gone from taking a road trip, with the two of them driving from motel to motel across Mexico, to having an entire entourage and a Mexico City penthouse at their disposal. Even he was feeling claustrophobic. How much worse must it be for her?
Which explained his rush to get back upstairs. He’d gotten reports from the human guard assigned to her, so he knew she’d run her errands and returned already. And now Vincent wanted to catch her before sunrise, to make sure she understood how important she was to him, that together they’d handle whatever problem arose with these new arrangements, just as they had when it had been only the two of them. All of those other vampires, the security types, his supporters and hangers-on, they were peripheral. It was Lana who mattered.
He’d gone no more than five feet from the SUV, outpacing the security team in his hurry, when in his peripheral vision, he saw a man rushing toward him. A human, big and vaguely familiar.
Vincent turned, trying to get a better look through the wall of flesh his security people formed around him, while some of the others grabbed the human and began to ungently hustle him away.
“She doesn’t belong to you,” the human shouted.
Vincent stared, then pushed through his bodyguards to get his first good look at the human. Harrington. Dan, no, Dave Harrington. Lana’s former boyfriend or fiancé, depending on whom you believed. Vincent went with Lana’s version. But either way, he wanted to know what the man was doing here.
“Let go of him,” he ordered and watched as the human immediately stormed closer, seemingly too stupid to understand his own danger.
Harrington stopped just out of arm’s reach. He looked exhausted and truly distressed. Vincent almost felt sorry for the man. He’d told Lana that Harrington still wanted her, and now he knew he’d been right. Harrington didn’t understand that he’d blown it all those years ago, didn’t believe he’d really lost her for good. What a fool.
“She’s not for you, vampire. She belongs with her own,” the human said, his eyes filled with hatred.
“And her own . . . that would be you?” Vincent asked coldly.
“You’re damn right. Lana’s mine. She’s always been mine.”
“I don’t believe Lana sees it that way.”
“Because you’ve screwed with her head. I won’t let you have her.”
“Lana goes where she chooses. You’re a fool if you don’t see that.” Vincent glanced around, seeking a familiar face, someone he could trust. “Ortega, Zárate,” he said, falling back on his own people from Hermosillo. “Escort Mr. Harrington to the airport. See that he catches his flight home.”
The two hulking vampires stepped up to either side of Harrington. They didn’t touch him, but they didn’t need to. The threat was
clear. Harrington was a big man, but the vamps were bigger. And they were vampires.
“This isn’t the end. You can’t make her happy.”
Vincent’s gut clenched as he signaled Ortega and Zárate to get on with it. Not because he gave a damn about Dave Harrington or his hollow threats, but because the human’s dire warnings echoed his own fears. And Vincent hadn’t been afraid of anything in a very long time.
Spinning on his heel, he strode into the building and went directly into the elevator his security was holding for him. It was only three floors up to the penthouse, but it seemed to take forever.
“She won’t thank you for that,” Michael muttered next to him.
Vincent shot a silent glare at his lieutenant, but he didn’t say anything because he knew what Michael said was true. When Lana found out about Harrington, about how Vincent had shuffled him off to the airport, she wouldn’t be pleased. She didn’t like him fighting her battles. And she especially wouldn’t like him taking action without even checking with her.
“Is Lana in the building?” he snapped instead, not directing the question at anyone in particular.
“Yes, my lord,” someone said. “In the residence.”
Good, Vincent thought. That’s where he needed her. They’d close the door and be alone again, and then they could talk.
The elevator doors opened and his step faltered at the level of activity that greeted him, and the noise that went with it. When he’d left, things had still been gearing up. Now, it seemed as if half of the vampires in Mexico City were hanging around outside his front door. He didn’t have time for this. He started out of the elevator, intending to go directly to his condo, but a familiar voice stopped him.
Vincent (Vampires in America Book 8) Page 33
