Sleeping With The Entity

by Devon, Cat

“Yes, it was good but not the same as actually living through it.” The wistful note was back in her voice.

  “Chicago was at the center of bootlegging and speakeasies,” Daniella said. “The buildings on this block were all built in the early 1920s. I wonder if any of them was turned into a speakeasy. It would be fun to check that out someday. When I have the time. In a few years or so.” She shook her head at the thought of her already pages-long to-do list.

  “Time is something I have a lot of,” Lois said.

  “That must be nice.” Now Daniella was the one who sounded a bit wistful.

  “It sure beats the alternative,” Lois said.

  “Which is?”

  “Having your time run out.”

  Daniella felt a chill run up her spine. “Well, on that happy note, let’s call it a day.”

  * * *

  “How did the flash mob go?” Neville asked Nick as he entered the Vamp Cave.

  “You saw it on the surveillance cameras.”

  “You looked like you wanted to decapitate Andy.”

  “I did want to decapitate him, but I restrained myself.”

  “Restrained yourself from what?” Pat asked as he joined them.

  “From decapitation of one of Miles’s latest recruits,” Nick said.

  “Probably a good thing,” Pat said. “Not in broad daylight in front of a crowd. That would not be a good idea.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Nick started impatiently pacing.

  Pat frowned. “This is the second time Andy has shown up on our doorstep, so to speak. On our territory.”

  “Nick told him the cupcake maker is his,” Neville said.

  “I can speak for myself,” Nick growled.

  “Right.” Neville lowered his head and focused on his laptop.

  “So this is all about the cupcake maker?” Pat asked.

  “So it would appear,” Nick said.

  “I still want to know how word got out about her. We’ve had a truce with the Gold Coast vamps for years now. An uneasy truce, granted. But a truce, nonetheless,” Pat said.

  “Miles has always been jealous of our ability to tolerate sunlight better than they can,” Nick said.

  “But he’s never acted on that jealousy,” Pat pointed out.

  “He’s tried to hack into our computer system to find out how we managed that,” Neville said.

  “But we’re always a few steps ahead of him in that regard. This is a much more direct challenge. Sending a minion sired by him…” Nick shook his head.

  “He’s not really a minion. Andy really is a vampire. A recently turned vamp, but … Oh, you were just using the term as an insult.” Neville nodded and pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. The frame had bits of duct tape holding the earpiece together. “Right. I get it now.”

  “What happened to the pair of designer glasses Bruce got for you?” Pat asked. “They were done by that American Idol guy. What’s his name again?”

  “Randy Jackson,” Neville said. “I wear them when I go out but not when I’m in the Vamp Cave.”

  Pat gave him a puzzled look. “Why not? Bruce said they made you look smart.”

  “I am smart,” Neville said. “But I feel even smarter when I wear my real glasses.”

  Pat laughed. “This is the kind of small talk that drives Nick nuts.”

  “Yet knowing that, you do it anyway,” Nick said.

  “We just like yanking your chain.” Pat grinned.

  “Consider it yanked,” Nick said. “Can we move on now?”

  “Sure.”

  “What if they try to compel Gordon to talk about the blood recycling at the funeral home?” Neville abruptly asked.

  “We already implanted a default in Gordon’s mind and his dad’s to avoid that issue. And they can’t compel any of us because vamps can’t compel other vamps,” Nick said.

  Neville nodded. “They can only decapitate them or burn them.”

  “Humans can do that to us, too,” Nick pointed out. “We can’t forget that. We do not want our existence known to humans.”

  Neville nodded even more emphatically. “I know. I saw the Dracula movies of the townspeople at the gate with their torches.”

  “I saw the real thing,” Pat said quietly. “I don’t want to experience that again.”

  “Right,” Nick said. “Which is why we have to exercise extreme caution.”

  “I thought that’s what we have been doing,” Neville said.

  “We need to do it even more,” Nick said.

  “How do we do that?”

  “By reassessing the threat and responding accordingly.”

  “It seems a lot of trouble for one cupcake maker,” Neville said.

  “She’s not just a cupcake maker,” Nick said. “She’s much more than that.” And that was part of his problem. She had the power to get to him, and that was as rare as finding a human immune to vamp compulsion.

  * * *

  Daniella started her Monday morning half an hour late, having missed her alarm wake up. It felt strange sleeping until sunrise when she’d spent the previous week getting up in the dark to make cupcakes. Not that she was complaining. She wasn’t.

  But sleeping those extra thirty minutes meant she was already late in her quest to get two pages of errands done. Daniella hated being late.

  Her favorite weather forecaster on WGN-TV had predicted the weekend would be a little chilly. He’d been right. He’d also predicted that today would be mostly cloudy and mild. A peek out her window confirmed that this was true as well. Commuters had their trench coats open as they hurried to the bus stop on the corner.

  Daniella knew the commuters liked stopping at her shop in the mornings, which was why she included coffee as part of her offerings. Xandra was as good a barista as she was a baker.

  Knowing Chicago weather as she did, Daniella knew that all too soon the snow would be flying, making it difficult to use her Vespa to get around. So she had to enjoy this time. Maybe it wouldn’t be really bad until January. Some years were like that. She hoped this would be one of them.

  As a little girl she’d longed for the first snowfall when the flakes had been as big as hamsters and she’d caught them on her tongue. Gordon had teased her about never eating yellow snow and licking frozen flagpoles or street signs. Her mother had warned her never to lick anything outdoors, frozen or not, while her dad had laughed at them all.

  After a shower and a quick breakfast of fresh fruit and Greek yogurt, Daniella checked her appearance in the mirror by her apartment’s front door. She was wearing her customary errand attire of jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and a jean jacket.

  She hadn’t talked to Nick all week and assumed that since things had been quiet following her grand opening, that increased community policing was no longer required. Which was a big relief as far as she was concerned.

  She was pleased not only at a renewed sense of security but also at the lack of temptation resulting in Nick’s absence. Of course, that same absence meant that there were times she missed him. She hated to admit it, but it was true.

  She didn’t regret telling him that they couldn’t make out again. She was proud of herself for drawing her line in the sand and sticking to it. Nick was a huge distraction that she did not need right now.

  But at night, when her defenses were down, she dreamed about him. Raw sexy dreams. Explicit and erotic dreams that sometimes woke her on the verge of an orgasm and left her gasping for breath. One time she’d actually gone over the edge, waking to the powerful pulse gripping her entire pelvic rim.

  Her face went bright red just remembering that moment. She was taking that secret to her grave. No way she was letting Nick know the incredible power he had over her, without him even being in the room or the building. It was more than a little disconcerting; it was downright spooky.

  * * *

  Daniella tried to transfer her focus to her War and Peace–length to-do list as she locked up and headed for the fun
eral home garage and her Vespa.

  There weren’t many trees on the block, but there was one at the side of the funeral home that sent several dried-up leaves tumbling down to the alley. She’d been so wrapped up with opening her shop that she hadn’t really paid attention to the fact that not only was autumn here but it was already past its prime. Unlike Shirley. Daniella smiled as she ran her hand over the curve of the front of her pink Vespa.

  “Good morning,” she greeted her scooter. Feeling a little guilty at ignoring the hearse, she muttered, “You too.” She returned her attention to Shirley. “We’ve got a lot to do today, so let’s get going.” She walked the Vespa out to the alley, closed the garage door, and reactivated the security system before reaching for her pink helmet hanging from the handlebars.

  Something made her look up to see a huge yellow Hummer that was as wide as the alleyway barreling down on her, racing at such a fast speed that there was no way she’d have time to move out of the way.

  She saw a blur out of the corner of her eye as Nick moved with freaky fast speed like a character in some superhero movie, grabbing her in his arms and rolling to the safety of a small patch of grass to the side of the funeral home.

  He’d cushioned her fall with his body so she rested atop him. She stared down at him in disbelief. There was no way any human being could move that fast. “What just happened?” she croaked.

  “You were almost in an accident.”

  Her eyes remained saucer-sized as she looked at him with confusion and fear. “What … are … you?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I’m Nick,” he said. “Did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?” He waggled them in front of her nose.

  “I know who you are. That’s not what I asked.” Daniella looked at him and then the distance he’d covered to save her before stuttering, “No one can run that fast. That was … freaky fast.”

  “I was on the track team in school,” he said with false humility.

  “Stop it. I’m not stupid. You’re not normal.”

  “I never claimed to be normal,” Nick said quietly.

  “Then what are you?” she whispered.

  “What I am is glad you’re not hurt.”

  His calmness did not reassure her. This was beyond weird. Beyond strange. This was … well, she didn’t know what it was. That was the problem. “Did you drug me? Is that why it looked like you moved so fast?”

  She saw him pause but noticed as a squirrel scampered across the grass that nothing else seemed to move at hyperspeed. Just him. So she wasn’t drugged. “Forget it,” she said. “Don’t try using that as an excuse. It would be a lie.”

  “You’re in shock.”

  “Yes, but that isn’t it … I saw something like this in a movie once.” She frowned, trying to gather her foggy thoughts.

  “Did you see the vehicle that sideswiped you?”

  “It was a yellow Hummer. I noticed that much.” She looked around before trying to get up. “My Vespa!”

  “Your Vespa is fine. Don’t try to move yet.” He ran his hands over her body. “Does anything hurt?”

  “I can’t believe the way you just grabbed me in your arms so fast.”

  “I can’t believe some idiot was racing down the alley so fast,” he growled.

  “It’s almost as if they were trying to hit me.” She saw the truth on Nick’s face. “Oh my God! They were trying to hit me. And you saved me. Like Clark Kent without the glasses or the cape.”

  “If he was wearing the cape then he’d be Superman, which I am not.”

  “What are you doing?” she demanded when he turned and shifted before sliding his arms beneath her and scooping her up.

  “Taking you to your apartment.”

  “I can walk.”

  “I think not.” She didn’t protest because the truth was her head was incredibly swimmy and he was incredibly dreamy. Pressed close against his body this way was shockingly fine. It had been days since he’d kissed her. Days and days. She didn’t remember exactly how many because she couldn’t think clearly at the moment. But she could definitely feel … feel the movement of his muscles as he easily carried her inside and up the stairs. She’d never actually been cradled and carried in a man’s arms before. It felt better than she expected. He felt better than she remembered. Had his shoulders always been this broad?

  Her thoughts distracted her until he entered her apartment and carefully set her in her chair, the one Suz had given her. “Something new?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

  Then it hit her. “The movie. It was Twilight.”

  “Never saw it,” he said.

  “But surely you’ve heard of it?”

  He shrugged.

  “You always do that when you don’t want to talk about something,” she noted.

  He reached out to gently run his finger across the wrinkle in her forehead. “And you always frown when you get suspicious.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. I was not hallucinating or imagining things. You moved with superhuman speed. So did Edward.”

  “A friend of yours?”

  “The hero in the movie. Twilight. He’s a vampire. Don’t tell me you’re a vampire, too,” she mocked.

  “Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

  “Because it wouldn’t be true, right?”

  He shrugged.

  She socked him. “Don’t keep doing that.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth.”

  “You can’t handle the truth.”

  “What, now you’re quoting movies at me? Jack Nicholson talking to Tom Cruise in A Few Good Men.” She paused to study him carefully. “Did that Hummer hit you?” She grabbed a handful of his long jacket and saw that indeed it was ripped along his left flank. So was the shirt he wore under it. “It did hit you! You’re hurt.” Pushing the material aside, she saw the large bleeding wound. She also saw the skin miraculously rejuvenating itself until all signs of his injury were gone. She stared at it before raising her eyes to meet his. “Okay, that is definitely not normal. Even for an abnormal person, that is just not normal. Not even in the cheap seats of the ballpark of normal.”

  He yanked his clothing back into place. “Forget you saw that.”

  She wished she could, she really did. Because panic was streaking through her. She was shaking so hard inside, she was surprised that there was no outward sign of her fear. She hadn’t really been serious before when she’d talked about him moving with superhuman speed like a vampire. Well, yes, she had been serious, but she’d been hoping for some sort of logical explanation.

  Vampires weren’t real. No way. So there had to be some other reason for all this.

  Maybe she hit her head in the alley and was suffering from a bad concussion. Didn’t that disorient you?

  That possibility prevented her panic from spiraling completely out of control.

  “I heal fast,” he told her.

  She frowned. Maybe the concussion made her see something that wasn’t real?

  “Go ahead, say it,” he dared her.

  “Are you … a vampire?” she whispered.

  “And if I am?”

  “So you think you’re a vampire.”

  “I know I’m a vampire. Now you know it, too.”

  He had to be teasing her. Nothing else made sense. “No way!” She socked his arm before leaning back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do that.”

  “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “No, I mean socking a guy who thinks he’s a vampire isn’t the smartest thing to do. It might aggravate you.”

  “Believe me, you’re already aggravated me more than any human has in ages,” he noted drily.

  “I don’t believe any of this,” she confided to him. “I must be dreaming it all. The Hummer coming at me and you rescuing me. Yes, this must all be a weird dream. Or maybe the accident really did happen and I not only suffered a concussion, but I’m actually in a coma. How would I know if
I’m in a coma or not?” she wondered aloud.

  “I’d know.”

  “Says the man who thinks he’s a vampire.”

  “I know I’m a vampire.”

  “Show me your fangs. No, don’t do that. Horror movies scare me.”

  “Yet you saw Twilight.”

  “Suz rented the DVD and I closed my eyes for the fight scenes near the end,” she said. “But let’s get back to you. You really are…?”

  He nodded.

  “Then I definitely have to be in a coma. Because there’s no such thing as vampires.”

  “That’s what we want humans to think. We don’t want you going all Volturi on us.” At her blank look, he said, “You didn’t see the sequels to the Twilight movie?”

  “No. I am a cupcake maker. A damn good one. I don’t do vampires.”

  He raised a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow.

  She blushed and put her hand to her cheek, then gave him a startled look. “Is blushing bad? Does that make you want to do stuff?”

  “Oh yeah. It definitely makes me want to do stuff.”

  Her eyes widened, and her heart beat faster than a race car.

  “Calm down,” he said. “I’m not going to bite you.”

  “But don’t you need blood to like … live or something? You don’t hurt animals, do you?” She glared at him. She realized she was being totally illogical here. But she couldn’t stand the thought of animals being hurt. Even in natural disasters, she felt terrible for the people affected—but it was the animals involved that brought her to tears every time. Besides, this conversation wasn’t real. She was in a coma.

  “Stop looking at me like I drain puppies and kittens of life. I do not hurt animals. And I’m not going to bite you. At least not that way.”

  “What do you mean, that way?”

  “You tempt me for sex, not as a dinner.”

  “How can you think of sex at a time like this?” she said.

  “You’re thinking of sex at a time like this.”

  “How do you know?” she demanded. “Can you read my mind?”

  “A lucky guess.”

  She reached out to touch him. If the accident had knocked her out, she might as well enjoy the experience. Yes, she was definitely going with the coma thing. “I thought vampires were cold to the touch.”