Lady & the Vamp ib-3

by Мишель Роуэн

  He felt a little stunned. Well, what do you know? They'd left. The three of them must have left together,

  getting up early enough that he wouldn't notice.

  How rude was that?

  It was one thing for him to do it, but three against one was just tacky.

  So much for good intentions.

  "Going somewhere?" a voice said from behind him.

  His shoulders tensed and he slipped the note into his pocket. "Just out for a breath of morning air."

  "Yeah, I bet."

  He turned around to see Janie leaning against the stolen werewolf truck. She wasn't smiling.

  "Your friends just took off," he said, nodding toward the exiting Mustang.

  "I know."

  "Where are they going?"

  "Vegas."

  "Yeah, Janie, about that—"

  "About what? The fact that my sister might be there?"

  He stared at her. She did not sound like she'd had nearly enough caffeine yet.

  "I guess Barkley told you? I was going to tell you."

  She nodded. "I see. Well, I guess having your fangs stuck in my neck kind of inhibits small talk, doesn't it?"

  "About that, too—"

  She waved a hand. "Forget it. See?" She turned to the side to show him her throat. "Marks are all gone.

  It's like it never happened. Besides, I've had bigger vamps bite me." She smirked. "I barely even felt you."

  Smartass. But at least she wasn't hurt. Not physically, anyhow.

  "Then let's forget it happened," he said.

  "I thought I already said that."

  He forced a grin. "So I guess we're not friends anymore?"

  "Werewe friends?" She raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember that. I do, however, remember my assignment to follow the expendable vampire to the Eye. Expendable means, of course, that it doesn't really matter in the end if you live or die. Where's the map, Quinn?"

  "I thought you had it."

  She approached him and shoved him against the driver's side of the truck. "Where is it? You took it from me last night. Thought you were all injured and helpless, but I guess you played me pretty good,

  didn't you? Got your snackand got the map."

  He really wished she wouldn't get so close. She wore the same clothes from yesterday, but they still looked fresh. She smelled like motel soap, but somehow made that incredibly intoxicating.

  "Give me the map," she said.

  "No."

  "You heartless jerk."

  "You're the Merc , Janie. I don't know what you're doing. You're a strong, independent woman. Who is this boss of yours who has you so wrapped around his little finger? Why does he have so much power over you?"

  "That's none of your business." She produced a stake seemingly out of nowhere and held it tightly in her hand as she glared at him.

  He raised an eyebrow and took her in from head to feet. "Where did you have that hiding? I'm impressed."

  "Give me the map or I'm going to kill you."

  His lips curled into an unpleasant smile and he shook his head. "You're going to have to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart."

  "You think I won't do it?" She slammed her forearm against his chest, pressing him up against the truck.

  There was no humor in her expression. "Because I will. I don't know you, Quinn. I don't know a damn thing about you anymore, other than the fact that you're a vampire. Do you know what I usually do to vamps that get in my way?"

  "Talk them to death?"

  "No, I do the same thing you did for ten years. I kill them."

  "Then do it, Janie."

  She blinked.

  "Do it," he repeated. "Kill me. If you kill me, you can take the map. I have it on me right now, and I'm not planning on giving it to you. If I don't find the Eye, then I've got nothing. And if I'm stuck as a vampire, then I'd rather be dead. You understand me? So do me a favor—kill me and put me out of my misery."

  He swallowed as he felt the needle-sharp end of the stake dig into his flesh. His stomach still stung from

  Malcolm staking him last night. Having a fresh infusion of blood had helped to heal it up, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. First time staked. This would be the second time. He wasn't planning on being around for a third.

  He held her gaze and thought for a moment that she was actually going to do it. In that moment, he felt a flash of something unexpected go through him. Panic? Fear?

  However, instead of killing him, she pulled the stake away and looked at him with a frown.

  He let out a small laugh—whether it was from relief or amusement even he wasn't sure. The sound of it made her eyes narrow, and she slapped him hard against the side of his face, just short of a full punch.

  He rubbed his stinging cheek. "Ow."

  She shoved a finger in his face. "Don't laugh at me."

  "I wasn't."

  Then, before he could stop her she was on him, patting him down as though she was a cop and he was under arrest. Suddenly, she slid a hand into the front pocket of his pants, which took him by surprise in more ways that one.

  "Hey!" he managed. "A little too early for that sort of thing."

  "Don't flatter yourself." She pulled out folded paper.

  The map.

  Just goes to show, a gorgeous woman grabs his pants and he forgets his own name, let alone how to stop her. Guess he wasn't as changed as he thought he was.

  The note he wrote earlier fell to the ground, and before he could bend over to pick it up, she beat him to it. She unfolded it, holding the map in her other hand, and read it.

  Her eyes moved over the few lines he'd written and her forehead creased. She looked up at him.

  "You were going to tell me about my sister?"

  "Of course I was."

  She studied him for a moment. "And you were going to leave this and disappear. Is that it?"

  "That was the original plan."

  She shoved the note into her pocket. "Plans change."

  "Don't I know it."

  She unfolded the map and looked at it briefly, and then her blue eyes flicked up to meet his again. "Get in the truck."

  "Why? Are you going to set it on fire?"

  "Maybe later. But right now you're going to drive it."

  "Where?"

  "To find the Eye."

  "You and me?"

  "That's right. I'm no damn good at following maps. We're going to find it together."

  "And then?"

  "And then all bets are off. But we'll deal with that when the time comes."

  He swallowed hard again. "Are you sure you want to be alone with me, after… after what happened last night?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Obviously you're putting way too much meaning into that. How many times do I have to tell you it was nothing? It's over. Let's move the hell on. I've got places I need to be."

  He grabbed the truck door. "Fine."

  "Good." She walked around to the other side and got in.

  So she didn't hate him, he thought. She was indifferent. That made things much, much easier.

  What are you doing? Janie's conscience scolded her.Are you a stupid bimbo? Are you? B-I-M-B-O.

  That is your new name. Why did you let the jerk vampire come along for the ride? You can't read a map? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SMOKING ?

  She cleared her throat and stared out the window.

  Okay, so she lied. She could read a map just fine. Especially this one. It looked like a frigging treasure map fromPirates of the Caribbean . X even marked the damned spot.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  She'd been fine and dandy until she read that stupid note.

  The part where it said:Touching you sends me over the edge of sanity, and I don't want to hurt you like I did last night ever again.

  And that was on top of the look he gave her when he thought she was going to kill him. If every vampire had given her that look, then she would have been completely screwed. Literally and figuratively. He jus
t looked so achingly hopeless and despondent that she wanted to slap him or kiss all of his pain away.

  The slap would have to do for now.

  She'd convinced herself, while tossing and turning on her hard motel mattress last night, that she hated him. She'dconvinced herself. And now the damn note had to change that again.

  She'd felt like the Grinch when his tiny little shriveled-up heart swelled to ten times its size. Which was painful and rather inconvenient. She'd never driven anyone over the "edge of sanity" before—at least not that she was aware of.

  But maybe he literally meant she drove him insane. Like the drooling, straitjacket kind of insane. That wouldn't be good.

  "Looks like we need to follow the map from the beginning to the end," Quinn said. "It's not to any sort of scale I've ever seen before. Looks like a kid drew it."

  He was right about that much, and she took a moment to study the map for the first time with all her attention. There were scrawling, hump-like marks to the left side of the page that she was fairly confident represented mountains—probably theSuperstitionMountains , which were close by. Four main symbols, very roughly drawn, decorated the page. A squiggle that looked like a child's drawing of a ghost. From there, a dotted line connected to a tree-like shape that was marked in barely discernable writing:Asesino delMonstro . Then a picture of a bird of some kind took up the right side of the page. Past the bird, the last symbol was a square shape marked "desert ridge," which was rather obviously, she decided, the ridge of some desert. A small X was marked on the upper right-hand corner of the square.

  Who'd drawn this thing? The fact that it led to something so important was truly ridiculous. Maybe

  Malcolm had put one over on them. Why did she trust what he'd said? Well, mostly because she didn't have any other choice, that's why.

  She held the map up so Quinn could see it and pointed at the mountains. "I figure those represent theSuperstitionMountains ?"

  "Looks like just lines to me."

  "That's not very helpful. I think it's the mountains. And we're looking for… what do you think that's supposed to be?"

  He took his eyes off the road for a moment to squint down. "Definitely a ghost."

  "Our first stop is the ghost."

  "That's as clear as mud."

  She glanced out of the window and to the side of the road. "There's a tourism office. Pull off here."

  "We can figure it out."

  "Pull off the road. Geez, you men are all the same. Let's ask for directions."

  She got out of the car just as her cell phone rang. Quinn went in the office ahead of her.

  She glanced at the call display and cringed, but then held the phone to her ear. "Yes?"

  "Do you have it?" the Boss snapped.

  "I… I…"

  "It's a simple question, Parker.Do you have the Eye ?"

  "I'm so close I can taste it."

  There was silence that made Janie's arms break out in goose bumps, and a trickle of sweat slid down her spine. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched a small, light brown scorpion creep under the truck.

  "I want it. I'm about to leave for Vegas right now."

  "I know."

  "Doyou know how much I want the Eye? How could you possibly? Obviously you don't, or you would already have it. Tell me, Parker, what is the problem?"

  The question was, what wasn't the problem?

  "There's no problem. There's simply a delay. As we speak I'm on my way to get it."

  "So you still feel confident that you will not fail me and face my consequences."

  Confident? Not so much.

  "Absolutely. I won't fail, Boss. I swear it."

  "And the vampire. Are you still with him?"

  She eyed the tourism office. Through the large glass doors she could see Quinn lean over the counter to talk to a middle-aged woman with beer bottom glasses who handed him a brochure or booklet.

  "Yes, I'm still with him."

  "He must be part of the problem, Parker. My new seer tells me that there is a conflict of interest for you that centers around the vampire."

  "Your seer is wrong."

  "I've changed the protocol of this mission. Not only do I want the Eye brought to me in Vegas by this evening, but I want you to kill the vampire."

  Janie's throat tightened. "I don't think that will be necessary—"

  "Kill him," the Boss snapped. "And bring me the proof that you did it. A picture, his head, a sample of his remains, it matters not. Kill him, or I will eviscerate your sister while you watch and then I shall do the same to you."

  The phone clicked dead.

  She stared at it with her heart pounding in her ears.

  Quinn emerged from the office. He was actually smiling beneath his dark sunglasses. "That woman was really helpful. Who knew asking for directions could actually be a good thing?"

  She didn't reply.

  "She gave me all of these pamphlets." He handed three tri-fold brochures to Janie. "And on top of that,

  she originally thought a ghost might represent a psychic fair, but then she changed her mind when she remembered that there's a closed-off ghost town called Semolina that's a little north of here." He paused.

  "Janie? What's wrong?"

  She shoved the pamphlets in her purse without looking at them and stared at him, wondering how she would do it. Wooden stake? Silver bullet? She felt her eyes moisten and squeezed off her emotions so she wouldn't cry. Not here. Not like this.

  "A ghost town," she repeated. "Well, that makes sense."

  He studied her with concern shadowing his expression. "Who was on the phone? Why do you look like somebody just died?"

  "Nobody died."Not yet, anyhow . "It's nothing. Let's go."

  She got into the truck and sat there with every muscle in her body tense. Her boss hadn't been kidding.

  If he said he wanted evidence of Quinn's death, then he wanted hard proof. There was no wiggle room for deception. Besides, his damn seers would know if he was really dead.

  She had no choice. She had to slay him and she had to do it before she got to Vegas.

  Just another vampire to add to her list of kills. It had to be done. But she could wait a bit longer.

  First she wanted the Eye.

  Then Quinn would have to die.

  Ah, a rhyme, she thought.Lenny would be so proud .

  Chapter 12

  Ghost towns were called ghost towns for a reason, and that's because they were deserted and run down. Semolina was no exception.

  However, Quinn finally got to see his tumbleweed.

  Time well spent, he thought absently.

  The tumbleweed blew past a sign in the road that blocked off access to the heart of the ghost town.

  It read: DONOTPASS —DANGER—PRIVATE PROPERTY.

  He shifted into park and glanced over at Janie. "Now what?"

  She turned to look at him and blinked. "What?"

  She'd been acting really strange ever since he'd come out of the tourism office. As if something big and dark was hanging over her head that made it hard for her to concentrate. He wondered who'd been on the phone and what they'd told her. He was willing to bet it had been this boss of hers, whom he hated more with every passing minute.

  He nodded at the sign ahead of them. "What should we do?"

  She took a moment to look at the sign. "We have to drive around it. The map leads north of the town,

  and that's where this road seems to go. Otherwise, we might get off track."

  "Can't we just figure out what the next landmark is?"

  She studied the map, tracing a finger along the lines. "It's looks like a tree. Or a huge black monster."

  "I hope it's a tree."

  "There's writing under it that saysAsesinodelMonstro ."

  "Yeah. I saw that already. My Spanish is rusty, but doesn't that mean 'the killer of monsters'?"

  "Something like that."

  "Sounds like a fun tree."

  She nodded at the smal
l collection of dilapidated buildings. "Let's go."

  Quinn backed up and maneuvered the truck around the sign. He began driving toward the town on the very bumpy and rocky dirt road.

  It looked very similar to what he'd expected. The buildings were all brown and tan from the dust and sand in the area. Very little vegetation other than a few cacti. Old wagon wheels as tall as the truck were up against the sides of the buildings. He half expected Clint Eastwood to emerge out of one of the doors,

  wearing a duster and a cowboy hat, a cigarillo clenched between his teeth.

  He remembered learning about the gold rush back in public school before his father had pulled him out tohomeschool him using humorless, personality-deficient tutors who couldn't have cared less if Quinn understood what they were teaching him or not.

  So he knew that this is where, more than a hundred years ago, the town would have been erected to support all the men who had gold fever. Searching the mountains and caves and riverbeds for their fortune. They either found it or they didn't, but sooner or later they grew weary of Semolina, and it was deserted, ravaged by nature for the next century, and left as this sad, rather eerie shell.

  A shiver went down his back. He didn't like it here. Not at all. It felt almost as if someone was watching him from behind the dirty, broken windows of the ramshackle buildings in the middle of the town.

  The creepy feeling was getting worse. What did the sign mean by "Danger," anyhow? He understood

  "Do not Pass" and "Private Property." But "Danger"? For a ghost town?

  Once they'd rolled into the dead center of town, the truck chugged and coughed and came to a rolling stop. Quinn tried the ignition, which produced only a sad, metallic chewing noise.

  He looked at Janie. "You don't know how to fix cars, do you?"

  "Of course I do."

  He couldn't help but feel surprised. He'd rarely met a woman who would willingly pump her own gas, let alone fix a broken truck. He was impressed.

  "I need to call Lenny first." She opened her door and got out, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.