by Rose Wulf
It was Veronica’s turn to take a moment to process his words. She wanted to be reassured to hear that the scary mystery vamp—Jasen, apparently—worked with Seth and so had been telling the truth. But the way Seth had given her permission to threaten him had her wondering if she shouldn’t still be a little wary.
“Okay,” she said after a beat. “See you soon.” She was trying to play it cool, and that was stupid. Vampires had super-hearing, so Jasen could probably hear every word. He could probably hear her rapid-fire heartbeat, too.
“One more thing,” Seth said quickly. “Try not to pepper-spray him, all right? It’s best to keep him calm.”
Well, it was a good thing that she was already on edge anyway, or those parting words would probably really have freaked her out. It’s best to keep him calm? That didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.
“There’s no point in you repeating his message,” Jasen offered smoothly as she set his phone back on the counter. “And as long as you don’t push that button we won’t have a problem.”
Veronica swallowed, still not convinced she should trust him enough to put the spray down. “I don’t get the impression that Seth fully trusts you,” she began, “so why should I?”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Jasen declared casually as he turned and made his way to the couch. “He shouldn’t, and neither should you. But, for the moment, I’m on your side. And don’t worry, I’m not thirsty, either.”
That was entirely not helpful. She watched, feeling frustrated and confused, as he took a seat on the sofa and leaned back, propping the heels of his well-worn boots on the coffee table.
“You’ll get tired if you keep standing there like that,” Jasen pointed out without even turning his gaze back toward her. “And Hunter will probably take some sort of issue if he finds you standing there dressed like that. Do us both a favor and go put some pants on.”
Speechless was the best way to describe her reaction in that moment. She had to stop herself from sputtering like an idiot—or, worse, from snapping at him in some embarrassed translation of self-defense. That prickling feeling at the base of her skull was easing, however, and she was actually beginning to trust that he wasn’t about to tear out her throat. Of course, it helped that he wasn’t even looking at her anymore. So, maybe getting some pants on wouldn’t be a terrible idea. At least she would be within reach of her own phone if she needed it.
****
It was typical of Jasen to finally show up right when Seth had started second-guessing his decision to call the man in in the first place. Not that there was anything he could have done about it even if Jasen had taken a few more days (and he was honestly surprised it had taken as long as it had). Still, the idea of Jasen finding Veronica in his temporary home had him on edge. Jasen wasn’t known for his manners (which made him horrendously curious about how she ended up using his cell phone), and Jasen wasn’t particularly known for his love of humans, either. Then again, Jasen’s not really known for his love of anything.
All of which was a moot point, because he was home and he would be able to see for himself exactly what was going on in the next several seconds.
Seth stepped into his condo to find Jasen sprawled out on the couch, booted feet on his coffee table and arms stretched along the back in either direction. Veronica was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and pepper-spray still clasped in one hand. She was wearing one of his t-shirts over the white shorts she’d worn the day before—though most of the shorts were hidden, as his shirt was far too large on her. Both pairs of eyes fell on him as he eased the door shut and Seth took a deep breath. Here we go.
“Took you long enough,” Jasen stated without actually straightening from the couch.
“I kind of expected you to call ahead,” Seth returned with a single arched brow.
Jasen shrugged, jerking a thumb toward the kitchen, and said, “Phone died at the airport.”
Setting the slim bottle of mace on the counter, Veronica pushed to a proper standing position and asked, “You knew he was coming?”
Seth returned his attention to her and nodded once. “I called him about a week ago.” Glancing back toward Jasen, he added, “I actually thought you’d be here a little sooner.”
“Shit got crazy,” Jasen replied easily. With barely a pause he added, “Oh, that reminds me: Trista says you need to hurry up and head home. She’s got something for you to do.”
The sigh slipped out before he could stop it and Seth nodded again. That was just what he needed. Trista was the only remaining Original from the First Family and, therefore, the oldest vampire alive. Her status as an Original meant that she was, technically, his superior—as well as Jasen’s. She was also one of the few people Jasen actually took orders—or attitude—from. “I don’t suppose she said what that something was?”
Jasen scoffed, a faint grin lifting the corner of his lips, and replied, “You know better than that.”
“I’m sorry,” Veronica interrupted, having moved forward to the edge of the living room, “but, who’s Trista?”
The humor fled from Jasen’s face and he turned a scowl to her.
Seth got the distinct impression that Jasen didn’t like her asking questions so, in the interest of avoiding confrontation, he offered, “She’s sort of like our boss.”
“Which is more than you need to know,” Jasen added shortly as he finally pushed to his feet. He narrowed his eyes at Veronica for a moment before returning his focus to Seth and asked, “We aren’t really going to talk business with her standing here?”
“Excuse me?” Veronica demanded incredulously, indignant anger obvious in her eyes.
Seth moved forward, so that he was conveniently positioned between them, and kept his gaze on Jasen as he replied, “She’s been in it practically since it started, so yes, we are. The vamps we’re chasing are making a point to drag her in.”
Jasen frowned thoughtfully. “You’re the one who identified them, then.”
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Veronica replied, “I am. They were dumb enough to hold an impromptu meeting in the middle of the park on a Saturday, so I overheard what they were saying.”
“Vengeful type, then,” Jasen muttered. “Fine. But she’s your responsibility, not mine.”
“I already knew that,” Seth assured him. Gesturing back to the couch he added, “You might as well sit down. Now that you’re here it’s time to go over the details.”
Shifting his weight restlessly, Jasen declared, “You’re chasing three traitors with tempers who’ve started killing their own kind as well as humans. How many more dead since you called me?”
Nothing like cutting to the punch. Keeping his expression neutral, Seth replied, “Three—all vamps. But the traitors aren’t responsible. The Slayer I told you about is.” He was on the fence about whether or not to come right out and tell Jasen about the Slayer’s connection to Veronica. Jasen viewed Slayers the way most Slayers viewed vampires—the only good one was a dead one. On the other hand, it’s stupid to think he won’t find out.
Jasen’s eyes narrowed darkly at Seth’s words. “Slayers do have a special way of fucking things up, don’t they?” He paused, expression returning to normal, and said, “I take it he got away. Have you seen him since?”
“He did,” Seth replied, though the answer left a foul taste in his mouth. That second question, though, was tricky.
“I have,” Veronica offered quietly. The frustration and vehemence was gone from her voice and her arms had fallen back to her sides.
Jasen turned his attention to her, one brow lifting with curiosity. “You’ve seen the Slayer?”
Veronica nodded, meeting Jasen’s gaze fearlessly, and Seth felt a brief, irrational swell of pride. That pride was quickly swallowed up with fear of his own, however, because he knew she was likely about to spill the exact secret he didn’t particularly think Jasen should know. But she didn’t know that, and there was no way he could pull her aside without aro
using Jasen’s suspicions, and the very last thing he needed was to have Jasen on his bad side.
“I was there when he killed those three vampires,” Veronica began. “And then I saw him again the next day—which was this past Monday.”
Jasen was frowning now, but it looked more thoughtful than threatening, and it was a moment before he asked, “Did the Slayer see you either time?”
“Both,” Veronica replied. “He tried to kill me the first time.”
“Not surprising,” Jasen muttered before asking the obvious question. “Does that mean he didn’t try to kill you the second time?”
“Yes,” Veronica answered. She looked away, becoming visibly uncomfortable, before muttering, “Apparently I’m related to him.”
Both of Jasen’s brows lifted at this.
Veronica was speaking again before Seth could jump in, saying, “He’s my uncle, on my father’s side.”
Jasen turned his narrowed eyes back to Seth, voice dangerously near a growl as he asked, “And you want me to trust this woman?”
“We have no right to hold her relations against her,” Seth pointed out, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “She never knew she had Slayer heritage before Monday, nor had she ever met her uncle. I was the one who told her that vampires were real.”
“Or so she wants you to believe,” Jasen argued darkly.
Veronica cleared her throat and said, “Listen, I get that you don’t know me and you don’t trust me. The feeling’s mutual. But I trust Seth, who trusts you, so I’m telling you the truth whether you like it or not. Just because I’m related to that murderer doesn’t mean I have any connections to him. He tried to kill me, injured Seth, and then turned around and tried to recruit me. And, for the record, I said no.”
Jasen studied her for a long minute, his expression unreadable.
Seth was tense, waiting for Jasen to pass judgment. He didn’t want to have to fight the other man, but if it came to that he would. And he knew, in that fight, that motivation would be his only edge.
Releasing an almost inaudible breath, Jasen replied, “You’re lucky you’re so transparent. But don’t expect me to be so merciful to this uncle of yours when I come across him—or to you if you should suddenly decide that blood is thicker than water.” He returned his attention to Seth and asked, “Anything else I need to know?”
Swallowing the relief in his chest, Seth shook his head. “The traitors disappeared during the fight with Claypool. Earlier tonight I followed up on a lead saying one of them had been spotted around his apartment, but it was empty when I got there.”
Jasen nodded and turned, starting toward the door. “I’m going to get the lay of the land. You’ve got my phone, so try not to die before I get back.” The door shut behind him with an echoing thunk, seeming to emphasize the tension that remained in the room.
Now, somehow, Seth was going to have to explain who Jasen was and why he’d called him in. And that, he suspected, would be the easy part.
“Who was that?” Veronica demanded, her voice hushed.
Seth turned to properly face her, finding her standing again with her arms crossed over her chest and an expectant look on her face. He wouldn’t be getting out of this without giving her a proper answer.
“And don’t say ‘Jasen’,” she added after a beat.
He wanted to smile at her comment, but he knew she was agitated. Not that he was surprised: Jasen had that effect on most people. So he kept his expression calm and honest as he replied, “Jasen and I both, technically, work for the First Family. Jasen is what we call an Enforcer. Each Family has its own personal laws, of course, but the First Family has a few that they insist the others adhere to. Jasen’s job, at its core, is to enforce those laws. He’s possibly the best—and most feared—Enforcer alive today. I called him in because this job is proving to fall more under his category than mine and the sooner we get Richards and the others off the streets, the better.”
Veronica pulled her lower lip between her teeth thoughtfully, turning over his words. “So, essentially…he’s the guy who makes the problem go away, and he’s really good at it.” It was clear from the way she emphasized her words that she understood the translation of ‘go away.’
Seth nodded. “He’s a good man to have on our side.”
“And a dangerous man to tick off?” The bitter half-smile on her face made it obvious that that was a rhetorical question. She released a breath, arms falling to her sides again, and asked, “He’s not going to snap my neck in the middle of a fight and call it an accident, is he?”
“No,” Seth replied with a shake of his head. “He’s not so subtle about who he intends to kill.”
Scoffing, Veronica mumbled, “So if he decides to kill me I’ll know it’s coming, then.”
Seth stepped up to her, planting his hands on her hips and tugging her into his chest as he declared, “I highly doubt Jasen will come after you. But, if he does, I won’t let him touch you.”
Veronica swallowed, her fingers curling into his shirt, and she said, “But you just said he’s really good at killing other vampires.”
“He is,” Seth allowed. “But he wouldn’t be fighting for the right thing.”
“Cheater,” Veronica scolded, a teasing smile lifting her face. She tugged on the front of his shirt, then, and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. He surrendered without restraint, sliding his arms around her slim waist and holding her close while she set the pace. Jasen would be back in a couple of hours, and Veronica still needed to sleep if she was actually going to go into work the next day, but one or two long kisses wouldn’t hurt anything.
****
Veronica was dragging at work the next morning, and she knew it was largely her own fault. She was working on not enough sleep and only an average breakfast, and the longer her shift went on the harder it became to stand straight. So she naturally blamed her incredible lack of focus when she saw her mother walk into the coffee shop shortly after eleven. Her mother didn’t even drink coffee, and had most certainly never set foot in the shop. She was clearly hallucinating.
I am so glad I’m not working a split today, she thought, shaking her head and returning her attention to the drink she was supposed to be making. Her focus lasted long enough for her to swirl the whipped cream into place and top it off with a sprinkling of shaved coconut before her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know if the woman at least looked somewhat like her mother. So, after setting down and calling out the drink she’d just finished making, she allowed herself another glance at the woman (now next in line) whom she had first mistaken as her mother.
Her jaw nearly dropped open in raw disbelief. That was her mother! But, not only was her mother actually standing in line like an ordinary patron, she was standing beside Cliff! The only part of this scene that seemed at all normal was the fact that they were engaged in conversation. This cannot be happening. She had—by some fortunate stroke of fate—not seen Cliff since the morning Seth had interrupted their awkward conversation. Now not only had he returned, but he’d returned alongside her mother. I need a break. No, better yet, I need a vacation.
The innocently oblivious customer ahead of her mother finished placing his order and Nikki wasted no time in setting the waiting cup before her. Veronica’s eyes followed the motion, but it was several seconds before her brain was able to process it. Just make the drink. Duck your head behind the cappuccino machine and let them be disappointed when they don’t see you. It sounded like a plan, so she snatched the cup and did precisely that.
Only she did it too slowly, and the next words to assault her ears made her cringe.
“Say,” Carol began after placing her order, still talking to Nikki, “can we borrow your drink-maker for a minute as soon as she’s done with that man’s order?”
“Oh, um,” Nikki started, obviously confused. Veronica was sure she was looking between them, hoping for answers, but she had opted to remain ‘lost in thought.’ Or, rather, that was
her intention, until Nikki called, “Hey, V?”
Damn. Lifting her head from her work, Veronica looked over, feigning obliviousness. “Hmm?” Her eyes drifted past Nikki, knowing it would be obvious if she didn’t glance around at that point, and landed on her mother’s smiling face. Why did she have to look so happy? “Oh, wow, hey, Mom. I wasn’t expecting to see you!”
Carol’s smile widened. “I thought I’d pop in and see you at work. You know, I’ve never been in here before. It’s sort of cute.”
“It is,” Veronica agreed.
Looking much more comfortable now, Nikki said, “Your mom wants to steal you as soon as you’re done there.”
“Steal me?” Veronica repeated with exaggerated curiosity.
Carol held up the digital camera Veronica had given her for Christmas two years prior and declared, “I thought we’d take pictures! That’s okay, isn’t it? As long as you’re not busy?”
What is going on with her today? It seemed like a legitimate question, except that she knew the answer as soon as she thought it. They hadn’t spoken since the night they’d had dinner with Dennis, and she knew her mother was probably feeling guilty for making her stay. This was also the first time she’d been back to work since that night because, though it felt like so much longer, it had only been two days since then.
Making sure her smile was in place, Veronica replied, “Sure. Just let me finish up here.” She returned her attention to the drink, then, and fought to keep the frown from her face. As much as she didn’t want to have to deal with Cliff again—ever—she couldn’t disappoint her mother on this. Her mother was trying so hard to make an attempt at improving their relationship, and she was genuinely glad for it. So she would embrace the old adage and just grin and bear it this time.
It didn’t take long at all for her to finish the drink, and then she was wiping her hands on a towel and walking around the counter to the customer area with a smile. Carol greeted her with a hug before tugging her toward the pickup counter, saying, “Let’s take the picture here. Cliff already volunteered to take it for us, wasn’t that sweet of him?”
