Brow furrowed, Thomas shook his head.
“I think she did,” I offered, cringing at the way Rawling drooled over me like a steak dinner. “I saw the two of them disappear together behind one of the trucks. If he keeps looking at me like that, can I bite him?”
“Not if I bite him first,” Thomas’ wide chest reverberated with a menacing growl.
“She fed me!” Rawling squawked, seemingly oblivious to our blatant threats. “She loves me, too. I know it!”
The stairs behind us creaked under Duncan’s formidable weight.
“If she truly is your one true love and heart’s desire, tell me her last name,” Rau demanded, brows lifting in expectation.
Rawling’s mouth opened and immediately snapped shut.
“Too hard a question?” Rau pressed. “Okay, how old was she when she was turned? Was it voluntary or forced? Does she have any human family members still alive?”
Again, silence was his only response.
Head bobbing, Rau acknowledged his made point. “You need to go back into a treatment program, Mr. Rawling. Do you consent?”
A sideways glance to Duncan signaled him to ready the tranquilizer.
Inching toward the door, Rawling’s leery stare darted from one to the next of the three vamps slowly surrounding him. “No! I just want a taste. Please! I don’t need a program, I just need the blood. It doesn’t even have to be her. Any of you could help me, if you would just have mercy.”
Darting around him in a blur of speed, Thomas caught Rawling in a bear hug from behind, holding him steady as Duncan moved in with the tranquilizer.
“Blood! I need the blood!” Rawling shrieked. He snapped his jaws at Thomas’ face, narrowly missing lobbing off the tip of the vamp’s nose.
Seizing his wrist, Duncan stabbed the syringe into his forearm and emptied the contents into a vein. Eyes rolling back, Rawling sagged against Thomas, who celebrated by dropping him in a heap on the floor.
“This is the society we fight so hard to be a part of!” Thomas bellowed, jabbing a hand at Rawling’s slumped frame. “One that sees us as a fetish to exploit? We’re better than them! It’s the natural order of things, the fucking food chain! Yet we muzzle ourselves just to fit into their warped and jaded world?”
“We join them, that we may make changes from within of how they view us.” Tone soft yet commanding, Rau looked on his men with the compassionate understanding of a long-felt oppression. “We cannot admit him to a treatment facility without consent. Duncan, please take him home. Tell his wife of his indiscretion and inform her that if he shows his face here again it will be viewed as trespassing and dealt with as such. Thomas, find your sister and bring her to me. She will take to the earth until the election as punishment for allowing him to feed. Vincenza and I will be in the study looking over my speeches.”
Dragging our leaden feet through the fog of melancholy that had settled into the foyer, we each went about our charade of normalcy in a world longing to devour us.
“Yes, I’m well aware he can’t vote, Finn. I’m not a complete moron. He is, however, the face of this bill. When people go to the polls, Rau needs to make an appearance. I’ll wait until just before sunset, slather him in SPF one million, and get him there to shake hands with voters. And while I’m doing that, you can do me a personal favor by crawling up your own ass.” Pausing, I barely listened to the colorful insult he threw back. “Yeah, right back at ya.”
Ending the “check-in” call with the first person on earth I deemed worthy of the title of my archnemesis, I yanked off my blue tooth headset and tossed it on the desk. The room I sat in, tucked in the back corner of the house, had once been my father’s study. Now, freshly furnished with a cherry stained desk and matching bookshelves, it had become my fortress of necessity to maintain my deep cover.
“It seems you and Finn have found a palpable level of loathing that allows you to work together without bloodshed.” Hovering outside the office’s French doors, Carter leaned against the door jamb with his hands in his pockets. “Is that what the future holds for us?”
Wisps of blond hair fell across his forehead as his intense stare fixed on the curve of my lips.
“I don’t hate you, Carter.” Unable to maintain eye contact with him, my gaze flicked to the slew of papers decorating my desk.
Pushing off his perch, he braved the risk of crossing my threshold. “You aren’t exactly pleased with me either. Which probably has a large part to do with the fact that I’ve never said I’m sorry. And I am, truly. I agreed to help you, because I thought it would get me back in the fold so I could find Coraline. That said, I need you to know that somewhere along the line, it stopped being about that. I should have told you the truth, but—”
I halted his long-winded ramble with one raised finger. “I understand, Carter. Really. You don’t need to explain.”
Especially after what I witnessed from Rawling earlier that same night.
He dragged his hands through his hair, causing flaxen strands to dart off his head in messy spikes. “You say that, yet I really feel like I do. I was weak, I got caught up, and that’s not me. Actually, in some ways it is totally me, and I hate that. I don’t want to be that guy.”
Realizing this purging of conscious was unavoidable, I leaned back in my leather chair and turned into the spin. “Close the door.”
When he turned to oblige, I thumbed open the top three buttons of my blouse, allowing the lace camisole beneath to peek out. Spinning back around, Carter flinched in surprise, a blush of color warming his cheeks and neck.
Rising from my chair, I prowled around the desk with feline grace. “I mean it, Carter. I understand your situation. It’s all science. Right now, you’re experiencing vasodilation, or increased blood flow to your more sensitive regions. Your balls are tightening, dick twitching with primal impulse.”
“Vinx, what are you doing?” Carter asked, his voice husky with a confusing blend of desire and uncertainty.
I closed the space between us, and the rise of my breasts brushed his chest. Tipping my head back to give him a grand glimpse of the money shot, I dropped fang.
Body rigid with desire, the breath caught in his throat. “Vincenza,” he murmured, stare locked on the curve of my mouth.
“Now, the chronic beast of addiction is rearing its ugly head,” I explained, mouth teasing over his. “What you feel is bigger than want. It’s a compulsion. One that makes any potential consequences seem insignificant. With a vamp’s legs wrapped around your waist, you’re touching death. The thrill of it entices you to push farther, to delve deeper for that next fix. Personal limits mean nothing. Not a thing on earth can touch you when you’re riding that high.” Pressing into him, I pinned his back against the wall. The tip of my nose nudged his pulse point, urging his head back with a throaty moan. “Had you not got out when you did, you would have kept pushing that line until you ended up dead.” Pulling back, my stare locked with his. “Like I said, I understand what you were going through and acknowledge it as the sickness it is.”
“Th-thank you,” Carter stammered, fingers curling into the bottom hem of my blouse.
“That said,” I wove my fingers into his hair, wrenching his head back hard enough to illicit a yelp, and words tumbled from my lips in a menacing hiss, “I wasn’t ready for any of this. I plunged into this snake pit to save your stupid ass. We thought you were being tortured, or worse. Instead, you were in treatment to stop yourself from boning your way into an early grave. Micah having to be changed? That’s on you. We charged in, and shit went south. And all the while, your head was on swivel, looking for your undead booty call. So, yes, in scientific terms, I get it. But don’t, for one second, confuse that with us being okay.”
I released my hold, stumbling back to fling open the door in silent invitation for him to go.
Hanging his head, he strode toward the door, pausing before he stepped out into the hall. “You and Micah … you’re my family now. You can hate me if y
ou want, but I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to have to make your peace with that.”
Without another word, he stalked off.
Chapter Twenty
Experiment Day 508: Effect
Election Day
Narrative Fallacy – Limited ability to look at sequences of facts without weaving an explanation into them.
“Thanks so much for coming out. Whether you support our cause or not, you are doing your civil duty by being here today. Next year I hope to be standing in this line with you.” Rau Mihnea, the face of the modern-day vampire, worked his way down the line of folks patiently waiting to cast their votes. Oozing charisma and charm, he greeted each and every one of them. Not all among them were in favor of the NPI bill, but being that close to the infamous vampire was still a novelty they enjoyed. It was as close to a celebrity sighting as many of them would ever get.
To find the reality of the differing sides, one needed only to look as far as the sidewalks leading to the high school gymnasium housing the voting. The supporters were positioned on the north sidewalk. Waving their Vampire Rights banners over their heads, they chanted on a loop, “Movie monsters no more! Learn vamp history, not the lore!”
To the south were the loud and rowdy opposers with their signs that opted for graphic gore over sunshine and glitter. “Save your votes, save your lives! Don’t be a meal! Let humans survive!” Over and over they chanted, as if anything with fangs wanted a taste of their cholesterol-riddled blubber.
No, thank you.
So far, the protests had been peaceful, but tension sizzled through the air as the long shadows of twilight stretched across the ground. The scales of civility threatened to tip at any moment. Nearing the end of the line, Duncan spoke into the mic at his cuff, calling for our limo. A beat later, it glided around the corner three blocks up.
All three of the triplet’s hovered in an orbit around Rau, Elodie never wandering farther than arms distance away. A few days sleeping in the ground over her dalliance with Lawrence had her behaving like a scolded pup eager to win back favor—a situation I knew a little something about with Carter lingering at my elbow. I wanted Micah to be my plus one. She refused, making some point ladled with big words about Carter being a public figure and the benefits of having his recognizable face among us. Truth be told, I stopped listening. The setup to get us to kiss and make up wasn’t even cleverly covered up, and I was nowhere near that point. Still, in his quest to mend things, Carter kept a smotheringly protective watch, eager and itching for the chance to prove himself.
Annoying as I thought it was at the time, it was that same diligence that drew his stare to a slowing Benz with its dark tinted window sliding down. Following his stare, I noticed the glow of the streetlight, which clicked on only moments ago, gleaming off a sliver of metal that emerged.
The world slowed to a deathly crawl as Carter formed the words, “Gun! Get down!”
Elodie threw herself at Rau, forcing his head down. Shielding him with her body, she hustled the vampire lord toward our approaching ride.
Dropping fang, which earned a chorus of shrieks from the stunned crowd, Thomas hurled himself at the brandished weapon. A lone shot rang out, slamming into his left shoulder. The force of it whirled him around. Protestors and voters hit the ground, screaming and sobbing in fear as the guard’s arm exploded into smoldering ash.
“Silver bullets! Get down, stay down!” Carter hollered to anyone listening. Cocooning me in his arms, he rushed me toward the limo.
Brain moving at the speed of a turtle in peanut butter, I blinked his way in confusion. “I should be covering you. You’re human and frail.”
“Your gratitude is humbling,” Carter countered, practically dragging me to the limo as it slid up to the curb in front of us. To whoever was inside, he shouted, “Get the door open!”
From within, it flung open wide.
Angling herself between Rau and the assailant’s car, Elodie waved us in. “Get in, I’ll keep you covered.”
Pausing, Rau glanced back, his desperate stare searching for me. “Vincenza!”
“She’s right behind you! Go!” Duncan growled. Having appeared in a flash of superhuman speed, he gave Rau an insistent shove into the car.
Forcing my head down, the mammoth guard pushed me in next, Carter following a millisecond later. Gunning the engine, the limo started moving, forcing Duncan to dive in and slam the door behind us.
Only then, in the moment that should have been dog-eared for a sigh of relief, did we realize we weren’t alone. Across from us, grinning in smug satisfaction, sat Bob Berry, Neil Rutherford, and Alfonzo Markus.
“What’s happening? What is the meaning of this?” Rau demanded, searching their faces for answers.
Unease prickled up my spine, fangs aching at the tangible threat.
“We took the liberty of making plans on your behalf.” Markus’ calm, calculating tone dripped with malintent.
Swiveling in his seat, Rau glanced back at the voting site fading into the distance. “No! We have to go back. We must ensure no bystanders were hurt.”
The rebuttal came in the form of one muffled pooft! A polished Beretta, fitted with a silencer, poked out from under Rutherford’s coat, the contents of one chamber emptied into Duncan’s barrel chest. Skin cracking and splitting, tar-black ooze seeped from the growing fissures until his body imploded, filling the cramped space with the scorching dust of his charred flesh.
The scattered embers cleared to reveal a wide smile spread across Bob Berry’s ruddy features. A malicious twinkle brightened his sinister leer. “Hi-ya, Rau. Your calendar has been cleared, my friend. Your presence has been requested for a little side trip.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Kinesics – Analysis that examines what is communicated through body movement.
Our chorus of footfalls scuffed against the concrete floor of the aircraft hangar. The walls were painted pristine white, industrial lighting hanging overhead. Which of the tainted political elite owned the space and parked their lavish private jet there, I couldn’t say. All of them seemed comfortable with that level of extravagance. These were pampered men of means ... yet here we were, alone. No bodyguards loomed at their elbows. No assistants scurried around to ensure their every whim was met. Not so much as a janitor with a broom occupied the cavernous space. Whatever they had planned, they didn’t want an audience for it. That was far more off-putting than the gun Bob Berry kept trained on my back, jabbing it between my shoulder blades whenever my speed didn’t meet his expectation.
Why me and not Rau or Carter?
Because the other two made the mistake of allowing their feelings for me to show. Every time Berry stabbed the barrel of his weapon into my back, both men tensed. All the lies and deceit that passed between us, yet I held no doubt either of them would swallow a bullet for me. The moronic beauty of chivalry.
“A little farther, darlin’,” Berry drawled, giving my shoulder blade another rough poke.
“Actually, here is good,” Markus corrected. Halting in the dead center of the hangar, his comfort in the space hinted he was either the elusive owner or a regular here. Overhead a jet engine roared past, screeching its departure into the night sky. Markus waited for the ruckus to die down before continuing. “Mr. Berry, Mr. Rutherford, if you would kindly keep our friends here company. I’ll see to our guest of honor.”
“Whoa now,” Berry grunted his disapproval. “Where’s that magic potion of yours? Load us up before you go strolling off.”
Drawing attention his way simply by clearing his throat, Rutherford opened his coat to reveal two sterling silver darts in his inside pocket. Whatever the mysterious cocktail was, earned a fat-cat grin from Berry’s puffy face.
Markus’ determined stride hadn’t wavered, the heels of his loafers clicking against the floor like hammer strikes. “I would go through the whole rigmarole that there’s no use screaming, but …” he called over his shoulder and pointed skyward. As if cued, anothe
r jet rumbled from above. Shoulders shaking with laughter, he disappeared into an office at the far end of the hangar.
A momentary hush fell in his wake.
Turning in a slow circle, Rau evaluated the layout of the space. “What exactly are we doing here, gentlemen?”
Rutherford shifted on his feet, his back hunched with palpable loathing. “Close your mouth, bloodsucker,” he spat as if the title soured on his tongue. “I won’t explain myself to a corpse.”
Rau’s head tilted with a mixture of interest and contempt. “I could explain all the fundamental flaws in that sweeping assessment, but I would have to dumb it down with small words for your painfully simplistic human intellect.”
While Rutherford glowered, Berry clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and waved his gun in Rau’s direction. “I bet if I was a few centuries old, I’d be a pompous ass, too. Doesn’t change the fact that we own this town. We are the kings of this domain! You want that bill of yours to pass? Only way that’s happening is under our fucking terms.”
“Come now, Berry, there’s no need to be crass,” Markus chastised from the office doorway.
No longer was he alone.
Carter edged in close, offering the only comfort he could by linking his fingers with mine. Whatever tension lay between us, in that moment I treasured the contact.
“Lawrence Rawling,” Rau muttered, spine-straightening in steeping unease.
Elodie’s twitchy-ex kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground, hand clamped on the upper arm of a vision from the past. The young woman he clung to could have been Joselyn’s twin. Same ruby-kissed lips. Same cascading curtain of golden hair. Same enchanting green eyes. It was hours spent studying Micah’s file on Joselyn’s death that allowed me to notice the subtle differences. The trembling girl’s chin was narrower, and she lacked Joselyn’s endearing dimples.
Veiled (Veiled Book 1) Page 18
