by Ashlyn Chase
“No, that’s not it at all.” Fat tears rolled down her soft cheeks. “Please, let me explain…”
He paused. There was no real harm in letting her talk. After all, she wouldn’t set a fire in front of him. Her behavior had him baffled. An explanation might not change anything, but he’d sure like to hear it.
“Please?”
“All right.”
“Come inside. I’ll get you a cup of tea.”
He followed her inside and appraised the damage as she went to the kitchen. Scorch marks on the hardwood that would have to be sanded and re-stained. It looked as if some drapes had caught fire, and the trim around the window would need to be replaced. Other than that, it was her own furniture that looked and smelled like it had been set on fire and put out.
Jules sat on the only chair that looked relatively unscathed. “Don’t make any tea for me. I have a bottle of water.” His ever-present plastic bottle carried salt water with him wherever he went. Something she ought to do.
She poked her head out. “Oh. I guess I won’t bother, then.”
“You can go ahead and make some for yourself. Don’t let me stop you.”
She smiled and said, “I’ll be just a minute.”
As soon as she disappeared again, he rose and softly stole to the kitchen entrance and peeked around the corner. She held a cup of water in her hand and dropped a tea bag in it. Then she blew on the cup and—fire came out… of her mouth!
“What the hell?” Jules strode toward her but stayed out of blowtorch reach.
Her body froze in fear, but her eyes were wild. “Oh, no. What did you see?”
“What do you think I saw? Look, lady. I came in here for an explanation, and I want it more than ever now. I just saw you heat that cup of tea with your breath like a fire-breathing…”
She smiled innocently and shrugged.
He reeled back as reality hit him. “You’re a dragon?”
She nodded. Then she lowered her head in shame. “I-I have a certain condition. There’s something I need on a regular basis, and if I don’t get it, I have the tendency to sneeze—and fire comes out. I…”
She glanced up at him, then must have decided not to continue. He realized he must be wearing a very stern look. He could feel his brows bunched together and knew he was frowning. Her tears returned, and his heart ached for her.
“Look, if it’s something I can help you find, like medicine, just say the word. There’s a pharmacy right down the street.”
She shook her head and covered her eyes with her hands.
“Hey, let’s not have any more of that. There’s no need to be embarrassed. Tell me what I can do to help.”
She looked up, and hope shimmered in her dark eyes. “You’re so understanding. I thought you’d call me a freak and have the cops take me away.”
“You’d be surprised how understanding I can be. Now, why don’t you tell me more about this thing you need. What is it?”
She hesitated a good long time. Finally, she hung her head and muttered what sounded like the word “sex.”
“What did you say?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“It sounded like you said, ‘Sex.’”
“I did. I need sex to stop sneezing.”
After a few moments, he realized he had been staring at her. “Oh.” He scratched his head. “Well, I might be able to help with that…”
She straightened and looked him in the eye. “Really?”
He chuckled. “Why not? I mean, it’s not exactly a hardship.”
“And… and I can stay?”
“Hmmm…” He folded his arms and thought about the consequences. “I guess that depends.”
“On?”
“On whether or not it works.” He reached for her hand. “Come with me.”
She took a step back and eyed his hand cautiously.
“What’s wrong?”
“I might be a little warm blooded for you right now. I don’t want to burn you.”
He snapped his fingers. “I have an idea. Come.”
That was all he said and all he intended to say until he showed her the kind of steamy sex he knew they could have. He left her apartment and marched across the hall to his own. He didn’t turn around to be sure she was following until he reached his door.
She paused in her doorway. He opened the door to his own place and swung it wide. She must have seen all the fish tanks, because her jaw dropped and she entered slowly as if mesmerized. Once she was inside, he locked the door behind her.
“Watch this,” he said. He strolled to his human-sized tank and stripped down, figuring that if she was willing to sleep with him she wouldn’t be shocked to see him in all his glory. The next part might surprise her a bit, but he hoped that since he’d shown her understanding, she’d afford him the same kindness.
Her gaze swept over his body, and a small smile curled her lips. Good. She likes what she sees. Then he vaulted over the wall of water and his tail formed almost immediately.
She gasped.
He grinned at her and leaned back, then clasped his hands behind his head. He floated with his tail gently treading water.
“You’re a merman!”
“In the fin.”
She giggled and asked, “What happened to your…?”
“It’s still there. Come on in, the water’s great! It’ll cool you down, and as soon as I can ‘handle you,’ we’ll get out and try it.”
She glanced all around. “Where? I don’t see any furniture?”
“I have a bed, but maybe this first time we could try it in the shower.” He winked. “Think of all the steam we’ll generate!”
She laughed, stripped off her clothes quickly, and jumped into the tank. Sure enough, generous plumes of steam rose from the surface. “Ah… I feel better already.”
“Great. Well, I can feel the temperature rising, so I’ll get out and meet you in the shower whenever you’re ready.”
“You don’t have a tail in fresh water?”
“Nope.” He hauled himself up onto the side and let the water run off. “You’ve never heard of lake-men have you?”
She smiled. “No, I guess not.”
When his lower half became human again, he hopped down onto the floor and leaned over the tank. “There’s an old saying, ‘When a bird and a fish fall in love, where will they live?’”
She nodded.
“I guess they’ll have to live at this address.” He cupped her face and brought her lips to his for their first kiss. One of many, he hoped.
* * * *
Sly saw Morgaine’s breath in the cold late November night as they strode from the Copley Square subway station to their Beacon Street neighborhood. He hadn’t calmed down much since leaving New York.
“Now is when a cell phone would come in handy,” Morgaine muttered.
“I won’t feel better until I get there and see for myself that everything’s all right. After that I plan on having a chat with our hot new neighbor—and I don’t mean ‘hot’ in a good way.”
Morgaine let out a weak chuckle.
They passed beneath a streetlight, and he glanced over at her. “By the way, I’m proud of the way you handled this whole trip. I hope you’re proud of yourself too.”
She grinned at him. “Yeah, I really didn’t know if I could do it. Having you beside me the whole time made it possible. Thank you.”
“Hey, you were the one doing me a big favor. Going with you was the least I could do.”
“How are you feeling, by the way? It’s been a while since you had any wine.”
“I’m okay. I’d much rather use it conservatively until we know we can make more of it.” He didn’t want to tell her that his blood lust had returned. He could control it until they reached their destination safely. The last thing he needed was to be stopped and hassled for public consumption of alcohol.
“It’s pretty quiet tonight,” she remarked. “Of course, it’s the wee hours of the morning.�
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“Plus it’s probably too cold for most people. I smell snow.”
“You can actually smell snow?”
A sudden movement from above caught him by surprise. Vorigan Malvant landed on the sidewalk right in front of them.
Morgaine yelped.
“Shit!”
“Is that any way to greet your maker?” Malvant asked in his oily way. “I had hoped you’d be happy to see me.”
Sly stepped in front of Morgaine. “Why the hell would I be happy to see you?”
“Because of all the wonderful things I have to teach you, of course.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
Malvant sighed. “I didn’t want to do it this way, but you leave me no choice.”
“What way?” Sly took a swing at Malvant, who shoved him off the sidewalk.
Sly lost his balance on the curb, and while he was busy landing on his ass in the street, Vorigan Malvant grabbed Morgaine, took a giant leap, and disappeared with her over the rooftop.
Her scream shattered the night.
Sly tossed his precious briefcases of wine into the bushes. He tried to follow, but Vorigan was too fast and too clever. When Morgaine’s protests became muffled, then stopped altogether, Sly realized in horror that he’d lost them.
Chapter 17
Morgaine’s wild ride over the rooftops finally ended in the back alley she recognized from her trip to Malvant’s basement apartment. He had shoved something in her mouth and held her wrists so tightly that he was cutting off the circulation. She struggled to get away, even though she doubted anything would come of it besides more pain.
When he finally wrestled her inside and down to his lair, he shoved her into a dark room and slammed the door. She couldn’t see a thing. Her arms prickled with pins and needles, and she smelled something foul and rotten. Probably coming from whatever cloth was in her mouth. Ewww. She yanked it out and began screaming and pounding on the door. She heard him laugh.
“No one can hear you. This place is soundproof, and the owners are away in Europe.”
Morgaine slid down the wall and started to cry.
“Oh, relax, will you? I’ll find your boyfriend tomorrow night, and I’m sure he’ll offer himself up in exchange. Then I’ll wipe your memory of his and my existence, and you’ll be free to go.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” He laughed. “I’ll eat you for dinner and maybe even share you with Sly. We’ll be sharing so many things throughout the coming millennia.”
That thought didn’t comfort her. She knew he was right. Sly would sacrifice himself for her, and she couldn’t let that happen. She swiped the tears away and took some deep, slow breaths.
If only she could communicate with Sly or Gwyneth! Or if Chad could find her, he might be able guide her out while the others created a diversion. But all of them putting their heads together like that was highly unlikely.
She tried to calm herself, but the completely dark room closed in on her. Her heartbeat had been racing ever since she was abducted, but now she could hear it pounding in her brain. Her chest constricted. She broke out in a sweat, and her mouth went dry.
Get control over yourself, Morgaine! Remember, Sly has secret weapons. A glass of Vampire Vintage will allow him to break in during the day. Gwyneth knows where Malvant’s lair is. All they have to do is wait until daylight.
Yeah, they wouldn’t wait and she knew it. They’d walk right into Vorigan Malvant’s trap. She had to find her own way out of here before they tried anything.
Despite her heart hammering against her ribs, Morgaine forced herself to stand and feel along the perimeter. She needed to locate doors and windows. How could a room be so dark if it had windows? She prayed to the Goddess that the windows were just so light tight that she couldn’t see them. She placed her hands against the wall over her head. They were in a basement, so windows would have to be small and high.
Eventually she made her way back to the door without finding another egress. Dammit. Didn’t he know a bedroom without an escape window wasn’t to code? Oh, Hell. What did he care about legal apartments? And for all she knew, she might be locked in what was supposed to be a walk-in closet.
A new emotion took over. Anger. And it was helping combat her overwhelming fear of the dark. Yes! Hang on to the anger.
“You fuckin’ asshole! Let me out of here!”
She was met with silence.
“Damn you to Hell! I hate your guts.”
Still no response.
“When I get out of here, I’ll stake you where your heart should be a thousand times! But I doubt you have a heart.”
“Well, now that’s just rude,” he called through the door.
Her shoulders slumped. He wasn’t the least bit worried about the consequences of his actions. He probably expected her to be angry and was completely unfazed by her threats. She wanted to burst into tears. Keep it together, Morgaine. You can do this.
She wasn’t going to let her loved ones walk into a trap. Her panic wouldn’t help anyone. More than ever before, she needed to focus. Think. You’re a powerful witch, dammit!
Ah, that was it! She needed a spell. But what would be powerful enough?
Frig. Even if the right words opened the door, Malvant was still on the other side. How could she get out, overpower a vampire, and run away before he went after her? That’s a hell of a lot to ask of a spell.
Wait a minute. She could astral project. Maybe she could create her own diversion and mislead him into thinking she’d escaped. If she could find a way to open the door, she’d really escape while he was chasing her image.
That would be a crapshoot if ever there was one. But something about astral projection stuck in her mind as the answer. There was one thing she could do. She could intercept Sly if he came looking for her before morning. She couldn’t speak to him in that form, but she could find some way of waving him off. Hopefully.
* * * *
“Please, Gwyneth. You’re the only one who knows where his lair is. You’ve got to help.”
“For pity’s sake, Sly. Quit jarring your preserves.” Gwyneth jammed her hands on her hips. “Chargin’ over there at night when there’s a way to sneak in during the day is just pure stupid.” He’s wound up tighter than a fat lady’s girdle at an all-you-can-eat breakfast.
“If he hurts her and I do nothing, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“He ain’t gonna hurt her. She’s his way to get y’all to come runnin’, and he knows it. So should you.”
Sly shook his head and stared at the floor. “She must be freaking out, at the very least. I can’t stand the thought of her going through that.”
Gwyneth grabbed his hand and talked as she led him down the stairs. “Yeah, her cheese is probably slidin’ off her cracker, but y’all know as well as I do, she ain’t gonna die. She may think she is, but she ain’t. Now quit frettin’ and git some of that vampire wine. We’re gonna add some to the moonshine and see if it works like Morgaine reckons it will. Y’all must be hungry now, right?”
“The blood lust is back, yes. But I don’t want to waste time.”
“Well, we need to try makin’ it anyway, so y’all won’t be wastin’ time. Then we can go after her during the day.”
“Meanwhile I’ll be going crazy.”
“My granny used to say, ‘To act is easy. To think is hard.’ It’s especially hard when your thinkin’ is as cloudy as the sky in a thunderstorm, and this is your rainy day.”
“Gwyneth, do you honestly think he’ll be understanding when Morgaine falls apart? She needs me—now!”
She stopped and considered the wild look in his eyes. “I ain’t never hit a vampire afore, but if it’ll knock some badly needed sense into y’all, I might just clock y’all upside the head.”
He narrowed his eyes and frowned.
She eyed him for a moment and decided he wasn’t going to attack her, so she continued her rant. “I know my cousin
wouldn’t want y’all gettin’ yourself killed. She’s in love with y’all, Sly, and wouldn’t forgive herself neither.”
“Did she say that?”
“Does she have to? I do declare. Men are so stupid sometimes.”
He sighed. “How sweet.”
“Hey, some folks have tact. Others tell the truth. And it ain’t the beard that makes the philosopher.”
“You’re right,” he mumbled. “Whatever you said.”
* * * *
In the basement, Sly and Nathan opened the false wall and revealed the still. Everything seemed to be in order, so it must not have been discovered—yet.
Gwyneth had argued that the wine should go into the finished product and not the still in case the process of distillation destroyed the blood. It made sense to Sly, so they brought an empty Mason jar with them to get some of the fresh product.
Sly took the container from Gwyneth. “Why aren’t we just using the moonshine we made before Morgaine and I went to New York?”
“Because this is fresher.”
“I thought whiskey was better aged.”
“Naw, my motto is ‘Fresher is almost always better,’ isn’t that so, Nathan?”
Nathan chuckled. “I guess it has to be since we drank what was left of the last batch.”
She slapped his arm with the back of her hand and he laughed. Sly had never seen Nathan so happy. They really did seem good for each other.
He poured some moonshine from the bucket into the jar until it was about three-quarters full, and then he handed it to Gwyneth.
“Seems like the proper time to collect it anyways. There’s room at the top to add some of your wine cure. What’s it called agin?”
“Vampire Vintage.”
“Okay. So how much of this Vampire Vintage should go into our Vampire Vodka?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Morgaine said to tell you something about sourdough bread. Does that make sense?”
Gwyneth snapped her fingers. “It sure do. Let me think for a minute. If I can figure out how much starter goes into my sourdough bread recipe, I can probably figure out how much wine to put in the moonshine.”
