Scarlet Revenge

by Sheri Lewis Wohl

  He turned his attention back to the activity outside. Where was she? By now she had to have guessed it was all a message to her. He couldn’t have made it any clearer if he tried. The book alone should have brought her racing back to New Orleans. Was she getting daft in her old age? Who else did she think would even know the book belonged to her? Everyone else with that knowledge was long gone.

  In the backseat, Meagan sprawled, dead—but only for a few more hours. He grimaced and wondered if it was such a good idea to turn her. She was just so cute and, best of all, willing. Reminded him of a great mutt—appealing, though no show dog, and always eager to please. After they’d met on the street, he’d taken her along for a late-night party, fully intending to kill her. The minute she’d wrapped her lips around his cock, he’d changed his mind. Her mouth was absolute magic. So, instead of killing her, he’d given her the most precious thing he had to give.

  Now, her shirt gaped, revealing a luscious full breast. He smiled. Yes, it was right to keep her as a pet. He’d been alone since Victoria left him for dead all those years ago, and he knew in his heart that he was never meant to travel the earth alone. True, he was a vampire, which put him above mere mortals. He was also a man and all men had needs. He ran a hand over Meagan’s breast and then turned back to study the activity on the Mall.

  The dawn was just beginning to break overhead by the time the District police finished scurrying about. The yellow tape came down, the emergency vehicles cleared, and the last of the law-enforcement responding brigade got in their cars and drove away. All traces of the handsome werewolf he’d spent a few hours enjoying were gone. Pity, the werewolf had been a good-looking sort and a fair amount of fun too. But one pet was plenty, and his latest lay in the backseat.

  He yawned and ran both hands through his hair. The truth was hard to ignore and he didn’t have time to be foolish about it anyway. Daylight was approaching very quickly, and she wasn’t going to show no matter how long he sat here. Might as well get poor little Meagan back to the bedroom where she could turn in dim-lighted comfort.

  He could grab a little rest until nightfall and be ready for more fun and games with Meagan before he went on the hunt for his princess again. He reached back, ran a hand across her breast one more time, and then faced forward again. Slowly, so as not to attract unwanted attention, he put the car in drive and left the Mall.

  *

  Weariness lay heavy on his shoulders and Colin fought a losing battle to keep his eyes open. For over twenty-four hours he’d been up and on high alert. Now he was feeling not just every hour of it but every last minute. His reserve of energy had finally run out and his tank was dry. Timing-wise, it was okay. After all, none of them could do much until nightfall. Continuing to hang out here sort of awake wouldn’t accomplish anything constructive.

  For the last hour he’d been in the kitchen inhaling coffee like a drunken sailor, and while it worked for a while, it wasn’t doing a very good job any longer in terms of keeping him awake. His mind might want to keep going but his body had other ideas. Actually, the mind wasn’t all that sharp either. Trying to keep a solid train of thought was getting more difficult by the moment. Time to get some sleep.

  He and Naomi had hashed out all they could for the time being and polished off a full pot of java in the process. Sliding off the stool, he left her sitting at the counter with her hands wrapped around a mug and staring thoughtfully out the window. Truthfully, she needed sleep as bad as he did, but she didn’t seem inclined that way. She was a big girl and, like him, this wasn’t her first rodeo. She’d sleep when she was ready. He, on the other hand, headed out for a firm bed, soft pillow, and beautiful partner.

  The bedroom was dark and silent when he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Ivy was stretched out on the bed, not breathing and not moving. At first seeing her like that had freaked him out. It brought back memories he didn’t want to possess.

  That terrible night in the Spokane morgue when Ivy’d been helping to fight a nasty band of vampires on a rampage to destroy Riah, she’d already been his lover. Until the moment the wooden stake she’d used to kill one of the vampires pierced her body as well, he hadn’t realized she was more than a bedmate. He loved her and would do anything to protect her. In that moment, it had seemed so simple. All Riah needed to do to save the woman he loved was to share her blood and turn Ivy into a vampire.

  Riah hadn’t wanted to do it. She’d been “clean and sober” for more than two centuries, and talking her into abandoning that resolution hadn’t been easy. He’d wanted to shake her, scream at her, whatever it took to make her see it was the only way. Ivy was her friend too, and he didn’t understand how she could stand by and let her perish. Not before or since had he been so blindingly desperate to make something happen.

  Thank God, Colin and Adriana were able to make Riah see the bigger picture. It had nothing to do with taking human blood or turning an unwilling victim into a creature of the night. No, it had everything to do with saving the life of her friend and his lover. He’d never been as grateful as he’d been the moment Riah touched her own blood to Ivy’s lips.

  Even then he’d waited miserably for hours—until the next nightfall—before he was sure she was still with him. He was not likely to forget the feeling of relief the second he first saw her move again.

  Still, it wasn’t as though she was the same woman he’d fallen in love with. She was the same heart and soul, the same beautiful woman with the jet-black hair and dark, sexy eyes, the same hot, passionate lover. The difference? This woman spent her existence in the nighttime shadows and required blood to survive. And she didn’t breathe when she slept. Freaky.

  Of course, by now, he was accustomed to the strangeness of sharing his life with a vampire. His own world was so radically different from anything he’d imagined. When he’d come face-to-face with Ivy and her good friend, the vampire, Dr. Riah Preston, he’d been one hundred and ten percent convinced that all vampires were evil. His entire life to that point had been spent wiping every last one of them from the face of the earth. He’d come awful damn close to making it happen too. He’d been the best at his job.

  It had only taken one gorgeous Hispanic coroner, one spunky and brilliant black scientist, and one five-hundred-year-old vampire about a week to change his mind.

  It had also changed his life. He hung up his sword—so to speak—and began fighting evil in a completely different way. He and Naomi had hunted side by side for a good many years until a traumatic hunt changed her forever. She’d walked away and turned instead to the calling of the church as a lay minister. He’d never understood her decision, not that he’d ever tried very hard. At the time, he thought she’d simply lost her nerve and taken the coward’s way out. Hunters did not walk away from the calling, the church, or the hunt. Wrong was only one word to describe what he’d been back then.

  To say he got it now was an understatement. The world he’d grown up in was elemental in its embrace of black and white. He’d believed it so completely, it was all but carved in his heart. They were good, vampires were evil. Simple and easy for even the dullest to understand. Hell, if he’d been into ink, he’d have had it tattooed on his ass.

  Until he met Ivy. Through her, he came to discover so many amazing shades of gray. He’d never been happier and he was eternally grateful he’d forgone that tattoo.

  Colin stripped down to his boxers and lay next to Ivy on the big bed. Even though she didn’t move, having her at his side never failed to relax him. She was with him spiritually even if not quite physically, and that was all he needed. The weariness that had pounded him down eased away, and he drifted into sleep easily and quickly.

  Consciousness came back like a slow fog lifting over the river. Fuzzy at first, he felt a wonderful warmth seep into his body. As the fog cleared, he smiled. He knew the source of that warmth and never tired of it.

  He touched Ivy’s silky hair. “Hello,” he murmured.

  Her head on his ches
t, she continued to hold him in her hand, coaxing him into hardness. “Sorry I woke you.”

  His smile grew. He wasn’t sorry at all. “Sure you are.”

  Ivy rolled on top of him. “I know you need your sleep. A hard-working man like you wants his rest so he can be big and strong to fight demons.”

  Her bare breasts were pressed against his chest and her hips moved suggestively. He didn’t really know what heaven would be like, though he didn’t think anything could top the touch of her skin against his. Even if God turned him away on Judgment Day, he’d always know that he’d been given a glimpse at heaven when his life was joined with Ivy’s.

  He turned his head and glanced at the bedside clock. “Well, I got a sweet five hours. Now I’m good as gold.”

  “Hard as gold too.”

  He kissed her, his tongue seeking hers. He loved the way she tasted and the way her soft body pressed into him. Her silky hair smelled sweet. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”

  “Once, maybe, but it was so long ago perhaps you should tell me again.” She kissed his ear, then traced her tongue down his neck.

  He ran his hand up and down her back. “I love you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Tory came into consciousness with a snap. She shot straight up, her eyes wild, her hands shaking. Where was she? It came to her slowly along with recognition of the sounds and smells. Naomi’s house. She sank back on the bed and let out a long breath. Nothing like being a little jumpy.

  A door opened with a quiet creak and Naomi stepped into the bedroom from the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around her head and a second around her naked body. Steam followed her out the door, making the room smell of lilac soap and sweet shampoo. The polite thing to do was look away. She couldn’t and didn’t.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Naomi stopped and clasped her arms around herself. “I thought I could sneak in and out before you woke up. I’m really sorry about disturbing you. I was trying to be quiet.”

  Tory rolled onto her side and propped her head on one hand. “Please, this is your room, I’m in your way. Do whatever you need to.” Like drop the towel.

  “I just needed to shower and change.” The towel didn’t drop.

  “Well, you certainly look clean and shiny.” And delicious. Tory tried to remember the last time she’d really looked at a woman. It had been years, lots of them, like decades lots of them. Even back then, she hadn’t allowed herself to feel anything beyond pleasure. Her relationships with lovers were always quick, and not a single one ever knew what she was. Safer for everyone that way.

  Whoa…she was jumping ahead of herself just because a sexy, almost-naked woman was standing in front of her. That didn’t make her desperate. Anyone would be thinking along the same lines. With a hint of moisture clinging to the swell of Naomi’s breasts at the towel line, and her long legs shapely and strong, it was a given that her mind would jump to passion or, rather, sex. In her rather odd existence there wasn’t any room for passion. A quick screw now and again, yeah. But anything beyond raw sex that might require an investment on her part? Not a chance. The formula worked for her and she saw no reason to change a thing. Still, Naomi was pretty hot in that towel.

  It took a minute to realize Naomi was studying her. “What?” she asked as she swung her feet to the floor.

  Naomi shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s something sad about you, Tory. I don’t know what it is or why, but it makes me feel like I should do something. I don’t know exactly what that might be, just something.”

  Tory smiled though she felt no humor. “Sad doesn’t even begin to describe me. I’m your worst nightmare, as well you should know. You hunted things like me for a living. You know what we are, what I am.”

  Naomi, still holding the towel, sat next to her. She smelled fresh and lovely. Tory clasped her hands together in her lap.

  “I know what you can be and I know what you are. There are two roads, Tory, and each of us chooses which one to take. Even for those like you, the path isn’t set in stone. You didn’t let it destroy you.”

  Again her laugh was bitter. “I didn’t? I exist because I’m too scared to let someone like you take my head. I creep around in the darkness because it’s more comfortable than having to face the reality of what I am. It would probably be better for all of us if I stepped out of the darkness and let karma do its job.”

  Naomi put an arm around her shoulders. Her skin was warm, the pressure of her body against Tory’s almost unbearable in its tenderness. Her nearly bare breast pressed against the flesh of Tory’s arm.

  “No,” Naomi said softly. “You don’t deserve to die. You’re right, I did spend a good many years tracking down and killing vampires, and I did it with blind determination. I didn’t know any better then. I do now. I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I know who’s evil and who’s not.”

  Tears started to form in Tory’s eyes. She got up and moved away from Naomi. “Maybe you’ve spent too much time in your church and not enough back out in the real world. A monster is a monster, and wanting to believe it different doesn’t make it so.”

  “Maybe you’re the one who’s spent too much time behind closed walls.”

  At the door, Tory stopped and gazed at Naomi for a long moment. She was so beautiful. “I don’t think so.”

  She opened the door, walked out into the hallway, and then closed it softly behind her.

  *

  His plans for the evening weren’t particularly ambitious until he spotted her. She slipped into the rear entrance at the Library of Congress, a tall man following close behind. Just the sight of her sent a shot of electricity through his body. She was as beautiful as the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. Still graceful and lovely, still walked with the same determined stride that had caught his attention on the very first day. He’d been so impressed all those years ago by the young woman with the incredible grace that he’d been driven to know more.

  He’d done a bit of homework to find out who she was, and it had taken a fair amount of digging even for an experienced researcher. Her entire existence was shrouded in mystery, deep and almost impenetrable—almost. People talked to him, always had. He was just that kind of man. He’d dug and probed until he learned what he’d wanted to know.

  He’d been struck first by her beauty, overwhelmed by her pedigree, and impressed by her heart. One beautiful summer evening, he’d introduced himself. She became part of his world and he’d loved her as his own. He believed she loved him too, until that dreadful night anyway, when he became a victim.

  What she’d done still cut at him. How she could have betrayed him so completely was beyond his comprehension. Yet, that’s exactly what she’d done and forgiveness was not in the cards…ever. She had to pay. He would never be able to reconcile with being a victim.

  Besides, he wasn’t the one who set any of this in motion. The responsibility for all of it lay squarely on her shoulders—action and reaction, cause and effect. He was simply doing what needed to be done in a very entertaining way. Who was he to deny fate?

  He had to be careful tonight, however. The ripples on the night air spoke to him, coaxing him to feed the fever. His body tingled all over and his mind buzzed. Smiling, he began to walk away from the Library of Congress. She could wait a little longer. The time wasn’t quite right yet for them to meet face-to-face, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the fun.

  In the meantime, humans were all around to toy with, meals to be enjoyed and havoc to create. His little Meagan was waiting patiently for her first meal, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Hunting was more challenging thanks to his campaign of fear, but that just made things more fun.

  His path hadn’t taken him far when he spied an interesting man in one of the ubiquitous hooded sweatshirts all the young people seemed to wear these days, walking with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a well-worn pair of jeans. He smiled and leaned against a tree waiting for his prey. Yes, a very promising night indeed.

&n
bsp; As the man drew closer, the faint scent of weed drifted on the air. He smiled. Just the kind of guy he was waiting for. “Sick hoodie, man,” he said as the young man walked by.

  “Thanks.” His voice was muffled as he kept his head down. His step didn’t slow, the weed smell now blending with the strong odor of tobacco.

  Stepping into stride beside him, he smiled and asked, “Got a smoke I can bum, man? Kinda quiet and boring out here tonight. I’m Vlad, by the way.”

  “Jim.” He offered him a cigarette and finally brought his gaze up to meet Vlad. His eyes were a deep shade of blue with pupils so large the blue was just a ring around the black. “Surprised to see ya out, ya know? Everybody’s freaked out about the vamps and sticking close to home.”

  “Aren’t you?” He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, letting the smoke flow into his lungs. Tasty.

  Jim straightened up. “Fuck, no. I can take care of myself. No fucking vampire is going to suck me dry. I’ll show the motherfucker who’s tough.”

  Glancing sideways at Jim, he grinned, his fangs beginning to show. The guy was high as a kite and didn’t have a grasp on the reality of where he was. Definitely not a clue who he was with. “I know what you mean, man. I feel that way too. I wouldn’t mind kicking a little vampire ass.”

  “No shit. Figured I’d see what was out and about. I’m not gonna sit at home and play with my own dick. You feel me? I gotta find some action.”

  Meagan’s hungry face flashed in his mind. He smiled and put an arm around Jim’s shoulders. “You don’t say. I bet we could find some action together. Twice as much fun.”

  He nodded his head and grinned, his teeth yellow and crooked. “Sick…let’s do it.”