I ordered a beer from the gorgeous bartender with pink hair.
Rocco leaned in to whisper to me while she went to get my drink. “The best outlet for all that excess energy is getting laid.” He nodded to the bartender. “She looks like the perfect cure for any ailment.”
As she returned with my beer, I smiled. “Thanks, doll. What’s your name?”
Maybe the guys were right. I should relax, have a drink, and find a hot body to warm my bed tonight. Ooh, she had nice tits…
“It isn’t doll,” she said without smiling and dashed off to take care of another customer.
So maybe she wouldn’t be the one. I surveyed the bar area and the dance floor. Most of the women who had surrounded us after the set were now out there dancing.
“Scoping the goods?” Mark said.
“Might as well,” I replied. “It doesn’t do me much good worrying about someone who clearly doesn’t want me meddling in her life.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rocco said, patting me on the back.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I checked my phone to see if I’d missed a return call from Angelica. No calls. I forced her out of my mind and focused on the women in the club.
Devon
I drove us to a hangar where Stefano had arranged for our transportation back to London. He had to have big money and connections to coordinate this trip. Especially on a jet designed for vampires. All sunlight was kept out of the passenger area to allow for safe passage by day.
A man with graying hair approached and greeted me.
“I’m Devon St. Clair. I have the prisoner as Mr. Napoli directed.”
If he was surprised to see me bring a woman bound and unconscious onto the jet, he didn’t show it.
“Welcome, Mr. St. Clair. I’m Patrick Bentley. We’ve taken care of all the arrangements for a hassle-free journey.”
During the flight, I drifted in and out of sleep. Layla was out cold for the entire trip. She appeared peaceful and even smaller as she was bound in the seat across from me. My gaze drifted to her lips, which were slightly parted. They’d been so soft when we’d kissed…
A trickle of shame ran through me—I’d done this to her.
When we landed in London, I glanced at the sky. The pitch black of night had lifted, which meant daylight approached.
I called Stefano to tell him we’d arrived in London. He was pleased, but told us to take cover until sunset. He lived over an hour away and slept through the day.
“I’ll expect you here tonight.” He hung up.
Damn, this job would last longer than I’d expected. I thought I’d drive her to Stefano’s and then be done with it. Instead, I took Layla to my flat in London, grumbling about bringing a vampire to my place
My sofa wouldn’t do. I needed to restrain her. I carried her over to my bed and tied her to the bedrails.
Even as dead weight in my arms, she felt light, like carrying a child. When I placed her on my bed, I couldn’t resist inhaling her scent. I thought vampires would smell of death and decay, but she smelled like flowers. I picked up that floral scent again, which reminded me of lilacs. Was it coming from her hair or her body? I lifted a lock of her hair. It was soft, like silk. Then I bent forward to sniff it, but she muttered something in her sleep and rolled, startling me. I jumped away from the bed.
That was close.
A distressed look came over her face, and she muttered something I couldn’t make out.
The next word was clear—“No,” she called over and over. “No, no, no.”
“Shh,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” I sat down on the bed next to her and ran my fingers soothingly over her face. Her pale skin was as soft as satin, like the petals of a delicate flower.
She stopped crying out and her distressed expression vanished. She appeared more relaxed now. I stroked her hair, soothing her.
An urge to lie down next to her followed. I’d pull her into my arms and protect her from whatever caused her such anguish.
Why? What the hell was wrong with me to react this way?
I stood and took two steps away, but remained by the bed to monitor her. Within a minute or two, her breathing deepened as she sank back into a deep sleep.
What was she upset about? Was she having a nightmare? Had I triggered it? I hated seeing her like that, in such anguish.
I sat down in the armchair in the bedroom I’d never had a use for until now. Minutes passed as I watched her sleep, waiting to see if she’d cry out again. She still wore that lacy, white baby doll dress that captured my attention when she sang last night. Had it only been a night? With all the miles we’d traveled across the ocean, it seemed like many more hours had passed.
Jet lag, time change, yes, that had to explain it. Could it also explain my strange urge to want to care for her?
No. I grumbled. Whatever it was would pass.
Her dress had ridden up enough to expose part of her pale thigh. I pictured myself going over there and touching her leg, traveling up to explore…
No, Devon, stop where you’re going with that. I forced my gaze from her thigh, glancing at her legs. She still had the boots on. I should probably remove them to make her more comfortable—and prevent her from kicking me if she had the opportunity.
When I was certain she was back into a deep sleep, I loosened the laces on one boot. As I unraveled them, moving down her slender calf, I tried not to think about how silky her skin was. Like satin. I pulled one of the boots off and a black sock. Her feet were tiny, toenails painted a pale-pink. Then I removed the other boot, trying carefully not to touch her more than necessary. The effect rattled me, and I wasn’t sure why.
I grabbed a blue-and-white quilt my grandmother had made for me. No, I couldn’t use it. It was from my grandmother. I couldn’t taint it with a vampire’s odor.
But, Layla had a nice scent. And I didn’t want her to be cold. I covered her with the quilt and then sat back down and watched her sleep.
Now that all the hair products and makeup had worn off, she had a more natural look. She appeared so young, as if just out of college, which would make her around ten years or so younger than me.
How old was she before she’d changed into a vampire? I’d only heard of vampires being made, not born, so I assume that’s how she became one. How long had she been a vampire? The more I thought about her, the more questions came up. My brain was so swamped with questions about the woman in my bed and how she came to be the vampire she now was.
How did she get mixed up with Stefano? Was he the one to turn her? If so, was she a willing participant or forced? Did she have a choice?
You don’t know much about vampires. Except how to kill them.
The bounty hunter in me reminded me to remain detached if I wanted to pull this job off successfully. That’s all you need to know. She’s a job. Plain and simple.
I had to harden my resolve and not let this woman get to me. Only a fool would let a beautiful woman get under his skin and make him drop his guard. And in this case, it would be especially dangerous. Because the last look she had given me before she passed out was one of pure vitriol.
This woman who looked like an angel was anything but one. She was a cold-blooded vampire, one who sucked the blood out of her victims to sustain her thread to whatever form of life she had.
I made sure she was bound tightly to the bed before I went to catch some sleep on the sofa. She should stay asleep for most of the daylight, and I didn’t get much sleep on the plane. I set the alarm on my watch to wake me well before sunset though. I had to be there when she woke.
I had to sleep with one eye open. Because she would try to kill me at the first available opportunity.
Perhaps, she’d used some vampire charms on me in the club, and that’s why she got into my head the way she did. The sedative I’d purchased from a witch in Barcelona prevented her from doing anything like that while she slept.
Yet, I was still thinking about her in ways I sho
uldn’t.
Layla
I woke up in a haze. When I tried to move, I found I was still restrained, which jolted me back to the precariousness of my situation. My arms were fastened to a bedpost, but at least my legs were free. I searched the room to see heavy maroon drapes covering the windows, and my captor sitting in a dark-red armchair. A lamp on a small table with my purse on it illuminated his corner of the room.
He was watching me.
“Where are we?” I asked.
I could speak, I realized with relief. My mouth wasn’t taped anymore.
“You’re awake,” Devon said. “You’ve been out for hours.”
I replied, “That should hardly be surprising to you considering you drugged me.”
“I had to for the journey.”
At least the look on his face did fake an expression of regret and not one of relishing the experience.
“You’d be too difficult to transport otherwise. Besides, dawn was coming, and you needed to sleep. I needed to get you under cover.”
“How magnanimous of you. My protector,” I dragged out the last part to let the sarcasm linger. “And what do you mean journey? Where the bloody hell are we?”
“London. We’re at my flat. We’re waiting for the sun to set so we can move.”
“London?” No, we couldn’t be here. “Not only did you kidnap me, but you took me across the damn ocean?” I yanked against the restraints, but it was still futile. Powerless, I hated every excruciating moment of this helplessness. “How the fuck did we get over here? How long have I been out? What day is it? And what the fuck do you want from me, you goddamn psycho!”
“Calm down, my fiery little bloodsucker, and I’ll tell you.”
I pulled against the restraints again to make my displeasure known and then stopped moving. Fixing a stare upon him with all the fury I could muster, I waited for him to give me some answers.
“We flew here. Special arrangements that Stefano took care of. All the papers and sunlight-blocking shit that you vampires must deal with. For immortality, you pay a pretty price, don’t you? Never being able to see the sun. Living in darkness. What good is eternal life if it’s spent in the shadows?”
What the fuck did this guy know about anything? I never chose to become this way, I was forced. If given a choice, I don’t know what I would have picked. To live eternally and never get sick is what so many humans yearned for.
Becoming a vampire sounds like a seductive option at first until you realize the reality of the life you have chosen. The unbearable thirst. The isolation. The darkness. Eternal darkness.
“How did you find me?” I asked. I had thought crossing the ocean to return to the States would give me a wide berth to hide. The US was huge, with many cities. How the hell did he track me to Boston? I should have traveled farther west.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” he replied.
“But how? I thought my cover was great.”
“Kind of like hiding in plain sight?” Devon replied. “Disguised but in the public eye. Seen, but overlooked.”
“And it worked for months until some British guy who thinks he’s a badass commando comes and kidnaps me!”
“Nope. Captured you to bring you to justice. It’s my job, and I’m good at it.” He paced in front of the bed. “Why the heavy metal band shtick?”
I shrugged. “Who wouldn’t want a chance to be in a rock band? And besides, the opportunity came up at the right time.”
“In London?”
“What do you know about London?”
“I know when you ran away from him, you ran into a rock club there.” He stopped pacing and stood facing me.
“So. What does that prove?”
“I tracked you crossing the ocean and coming to Boston.”
Crap. Too bad Stefano had hired this guy. “And how did you figure out who I was?”
“Like I told you,” he said, rubbing his shaved head. “I’ve been at this a long time. I know the right questions to ask. And I nailed you down as the new singer for Bloodlust Diamond. How did you land that gig?”
“Why do you think I’ll answer any of your questions?” I spat.
“Why not?”
“What kind of job involves capturing innocent people and bringing them to their death? Sounds more like a crime in itself.”
“Everyone says they’re innocent when I find them.”
“I am,” I declared, widening my eyes to up the innocence factor. “I didn’t steal anything from Stefano. I’ve been framed.”
He walked in a half-circle around me, opening and closing his mouth in a gabbing gesture. Then he repeated, “I’ve been framed,” in a higher pitch. “Sure, sweetheart. Like I’ve never heard that line before either. You can save the act. It doesn’t have any effect on me.”
“It’s not a bloody act! I escaped to the US because I know Stefano. Once he makes up his mind about someone or something, there’s no changing it. Since he decided—wrongly—that I stole from him, my life was in jeopardy.”
“Guess it didn’t work out for you. Since you were found.”
“By you. If you stayed out of it, I would be fine right now.”
“You’d be on the run. Looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. No, not life. You’re already dead.”
“At least I’d be safe!”
“You’d never be safe with a vampire like Stefano looking for you. He is rich, powerful, and has connections.”
“Why am I bothering telling you anything?” I pouted in frustration. Would anything work on this guy? Did he have a soft spot anywhere in him? Time to appeal to his softer side, if he had one. “Devon, if that’s your real name.”
“It is.”
“Devon, I beg you not to take me to him. If you do, he’ll kill me.”
“Not my problem, sweetheart.” He prowled before me. God, he was big. Like a freakin’ mountain of muscles.
“Do you have a soul?” I spat. “Or, a conscience in that big, stupid, shaved head of yours? I told you I didn’t do it. I didn’t take anything from Stefano. Whoever did it framed me to take the fall.”
“Like I said, not my problem. If you want to explain it to anyone, explain it to Stefano. You’re wasting your words on me.”
My thoughts raced around in my head, every bad idea aimed at this stupid, evil Devon character. “If I wasn’t restrained right now, I’d kill you. I’d drain every drop of blood from you until your cold, dead body dropped to the floor.”
My threat had no effect on him. Why the hell not? He knew I was a vampire. He knew I was lethal. Without the silver, I could easily overpower and kill him.
“I’m not so easy to kill, sweetheart.” He tapped his finger on a table. “So why did you piss this big, bad vampire off anyway? What painting did you take from him that has him so riled up?”
“I didn’t take anything.”
“Why does he think you took it?”
“I’m done talking to you.”
He pulled his chair across from me, moving a foot away. “Don’t you enjoy my company?” He grinned with so much self-assurance that I wanted to wipe it off his stupid face. “If this isn’t enough fun for you, we can play a card game.”
“Don’t antagonize me! Isn’t it bad enough that you’re sentencing me to death?”
“You did the crime, honey. Don’t blame me.”
I had to control my temper. Losing it wasn’t going to get me out of this situation. I leaned closer to Devon and caught his eyes, trying to impart my will upon him. “If you listen to my side of the story, I’m sure you’d see things differently.” I didn’t blink as mind control required total concentration. If I blinked, I’d break the connection between us.
“Are you trying to entrance me, Layla? If so, you’re wasting your time. Can’t you tell what I am?”
Hmm. Something was different about him. I knew that the first night I saw him at Vamps. But the whole incongruity of his personality with his body language had thrown me of
f. I inhaled to get a better sense of his scent.
It wasn’t human. Not the kind I was used to anyway. Besides the masculine aroma, some type of animal scent also clung to him. Possibly feline. Not a house cat, but something I’d encounter more in the wild.
And then it came to me as clear as a lit-up billboard—illuminating how my situation had worsened.
“Holy fuck. You’re a shifter.”
Chapter 4
Devon
When Layla tried to vamp me, I had to resist smiling.
“Bingo. You win the prize,” I said. “How did you finally figure it out?”
“I can smell the animal in you.”
“Aw, shucks. That’s so kind of you to say. You’re not a very good vampire, are you, because it took you long enough?”
Damn, I sounded like a dick, but I had to be. She’d just tried to control my mind. If I were human, I’d be controlled by a vampire. That wasn’t cool—ever. Damn bloodsuckers.
“Maybe it’s because I met you when you were with a bunch of stinky, sweaty humans, and then you fucking drugged me, and none of my senses are up to par! Ever think of that, hotshot? Are you always such a jerk?”
I sat back down in my chair, watching her with amusement as her eyes glazed with rage. She was so freaking cute when she looked like she wanted to destroy me.
“It doesn’t pay to be nice in this position. You would have taken advantage of me long ago, vamp.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to act humanely though, would it?” she spat with glaring eyes.
Earlier, I’d soothed her while she’d whimpered in distress in her sleep. That seemed kind of humane, especially for a cold bounty hunter like me. I’d stroked her cheek and hair. But, I’d never reveal that to her. If she sensed a softer side, she’d pounce on it. I was a predator, I knew this. Never show weakness.
“Is there something you need?” I asked her, keeping my voice devoid of emotion.
“Yes, of course there is. I need to get the fuck out of here before you lead me to my death!”
“Sorry, I can’t help you with that.” I stood up. “I can get you something to drink, though.”
Burn: A shifter and vampire rock star romance (Underground Encounters Book 4) Page 5
