The Vampire's Resolve

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The Vampire's Resolve Page 1

by Martha Woods




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  The Vampire’s Resolve

  (Book 6 of Fatal Allure Series)

  Martha Woods

  Contents

  FREE Gift For You!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

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  © 2018 Martha Woods

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter 1

  I open the door to find Alexis, gorgeous as always, on the other side. She barrels past me, headed straight to my bedroom.

  “Well hello to you, too,” I mutter, closing the door and following her.

  Alexis lays her hands on Damon’s chest, closing her eyes as she reads whatever is going on in his body right now. “So, tell me again what happened,” she says quietly.

  “Well, he showed up after how many months gone? Just walked in, looking like he’d been living on the street, and said he couldn’t stay away. I had to tell him that I was bonded with Vincent. I couldn’t lie to him,” I explain. My stomach hurts as I look at him now. “Maybe I should have waited but, I don’t know, it didn’t seem right to keep it from him. He thought we would just jump back into a relationship.”

  “Well, if no one has ever told you this before, you have the subtlety of a hammer to the back of the head, Amy,” Alexis says. “But I really need to know what happened right after that. Why is Damon practically comatose right now?

  My jaw hangs open for a moment while I process what she’s said. “Are you saying I did this?”

  “Yes, Amy,” she says with an epic eye roll. “You couldn’t have just given him some time? He’s gaunt. He’s been injured, a lot. He was clearly having some emotional distress. And you’re all like, ‘Welcome back, I’m practically married to someone else now.’ Don’t you think it might have been better to wait before you dropped that bomb?”

  “Well, I’m sorry for being honest,” I say. I know I sound like I’m pouting, but this really isn’t the time for her to judge me. “and I’m not married to Vincent. It’s only for protection.”

  “If protection means having intercourse and eliminating mental barriers, then okay,” Alexis says.

  “You know, I don’t owe you an explanation. Can you help him or not?”

  “So, you told him about Vincent and then what?” she asks.

  “He said something about feeling sick and dizzy. I ran him a bath. He sat in the water for a really long time, not talking. Then he got up, dried off, got dressed, and laid in the bed. He’s been like this ever since. He opens his eyes every once in a while, but he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t eat. Doesn’t get up.”

  Alexis frowns as she looks at Damon’s face, relaxed as he sleeps. “He’s got some internal damage. Bruising, mostly, a broken rib. He’s malnourished for sure, likely suffering exhaustion and dehydration. But none of this should be cause for any kind of semi-comatose state. I mean, I can sense that his system is sort of self-regulating, running on low energy mode. It’s almost like hibernation or hyper-sleep.”

  “Can you help him?” I ask.

  “Yes, of course,” she says. “I mean, I can definitely work on the injuries, but I’ll be honest, Amy. I think he’s choosing this. I think he’s processing. What he saw out there, what he came home to. I can work with his energy but it might take a while. I’ll need some time.”

  I watch her do her magic. She is a talented healer, I’ll give her that, but she seems really emotionally invested in protecting Damon.

  “Do you love him?” I blurt out.

  “What?” she asks. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

  “Well, you seem hell-bent on punishing me for hurting him or whatever,” I say.

  Alexis takes her hands off of Damon and walks out of the room. “Come on then,” she says tersely. “Let’s talk about this so I can get back to work.”

  I look back at Damon and he doesn’t move. If he’s hearing this, I’ll be embarrassed, but he seems unresponsive still. I wander out to the living room where Alexis stands, arms folded across her chest.

  I make a gesture with my head that she should go ahead and talk. She shifts her body weight and sighs heavily.

  “Look, Amy,” she says. “It’s not that I don’t like you. No, actually, I don’t really like you all that much. But I don’t hate you. Okay? In some ways I admire you, you know? Like, you solve crimes. You help the dead move on. You’ll obviously barrel into any situation, even stupidly dangerous ones, for the people you care about. All mostly admirable qualities.”

  “Wow,” I say sardonically. “Stop or you’ll give me a big head.”

  “I’m not here to stroke your giant ego, Amy,” Alexis says. “I’m here to help Damon. And you asked me if I love him. Well, I don’t. But I do care about him. I like him. I enjoyed getting to know him when he worked at the club.”

  “He worked there for like five minutes,” I say.

  “We talked a lot, and some outside of the club, as well,” she says.

  I don’t need investigatory skills to read into what she’s saying. They spent time together outside of work. I can’t help the gut-twisting reaction my body has to that.

  “He was…sweet. Helpful. You know, I didn’t set out to run a strip club with my brother. I was going to go to medical school. I have this gift and I can’t really use it openly. I wanted to help people. But my brother…he’s not really able to make good decisions for himself. He needs someone looking out for him. Where I go, he goes, and vice versa.”

  “What does this have to do with Damon?” I ask.

  “Yeah, see?” she says sharply. “I tell you something personal and you act like I just read off the back of a bag of dog food. Normal people want to know about others. Did you know that Damon likes to read comic books? Like, he goes into comic book stores and reads comic books for fun. He doesn’t buy them because he’s always moved around so much that he worried they’d get ruined.”

  I did not, in fact, know
that about Damon. I had no idea.

  “Did you know he actually really loves Halloween? For a guy who hates monsters, he actually loves seeing little kids dress up in costumes, loves giving them candy? Did you know he loves kids? Wants to be a father so badly he aches?”

  I feel my face heat. I feel so ashamed for not knowing these things about someone I love. Well, I knew he probably wanted kids but maybe not as much as she says he does. Either way, she’s not wrong. I’ve always been too much of an introvert. Too closed-off, not able to really connect with people on an emotional level. I’m not sure it’s something I can change, though.

  “Amy, I know people are all different in this world. And I know that you do love people. You wouldn’t take these constant risks for them – for Damon, for your friend Cara, for Vincent – I’ve seen you willing to lose your life for them and you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t feel something, if you didn’t love them. But, you know, sometimes big drama and gestures doesn’t make up for just, like, getting to know a person. Being with them.”

  “Thanks for the relationship advice,” I say.

  “I’m not giving you relationship advice, Amy” Alexis says. “I’m asking you to step aside on this one. Sit on the bench for a while. Let me get to know Damon, really get to know him, and help him move on toward something healthier. This thing you two have? It’s not healthy. It’s toxic. Even more so now that you’ve bonded yourself to a vampire.”

  “Step aside?” I ask, my blood starting to boil. “Step aside and let you get to know him? Let you slip in and start something with him? Are you kidding me? I called you over here to help him, not slip in and play girlfriend.”

  “Don’t be childish,” she says.

  “You know what? Just leave,” I say, pointing at the door. “Just go. I’ll find someone else to help him.”

  “Amy,” Alexis says, “I’m not going anywhere. And you need to stop playing games. It’s not fair to Damon.”

  “I’m not playing games,” I say. “He left. He nearly killed me and he couldn’t handle it, so he left. And he didn’t call or write or whatever. He was just gone. I thought I’d said goodbye for good. It didn’t mean I stopped loving him, it means I let him go. I did. But guess what? He came back. If I were looking at it from the outside, I’d say it was he who was playing games. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who came back. I didn’t do a thing other than live my life and try to end what is about to amount to the end of the world as we know it.”

  “Oh, there she is,” Alexis says, “Amy, our savior. Give me a break.”

  “Look, I already said it once, but you need to go now. Get out of my house. Leave us alone.”

  “Us now?” Alexis says with a laugh. “That’s rich. I’m not going anywhere. He needs my help and you know it.”

  “Fine,” I say. “But I’m not going to sit around here and allow you to abuse me for your own amusement and satisfaction. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Yep,” Alexis says. “Run off and do your job. Focus on your job instead of focusing on the important things right under your nose. You know, your inability to fully commit to Damon is only going to keep hurting him. You see him now? You want to keep doing this to him?”

  “Fuck you, Alexis,” I say.

  “You should let him go,” Alexis says, heading back into my bedroom and laying her heads on my boyfriend.

  I walk out the door, slamming it behind me, leaving Damon with the woman who wants to take him away from me.

  Chapter 2

  I drive around aimlessly for a while, finally deciding to go to Faye’s shop. But the punk-rock owner of this establishment is not in her usual place at the counter as I walk in.

  In her place is a tall, very handsome man. He’s got kohl-rimmed, dark eyes with long lashes. His silky, black hair is short in the back and on the sides, but slightly longer and wavy on the top. His skin is warm brown and his welcoming smile is wide and straight. He’s an elegant man, with a piano-player’s long fingers and an effortless five o’clock shadow.

  I’m actually quite taken aback by him. Not just because he’s good looking, but also because he’s actually greeting me as I walk into the store. Great customer service is not really at the top of Faye’s priority list.

  As I near him, I sense that he’s also a warlock.

  “Hello, Amy McCartney,” he says as I approach. “Good to finally meet you.”

  I feel my eyebrows go up into my hairline. “Ummm, hi?”

  “I’m Tariq Abassi,” he says, holding out a hand. “A friend of Faye’s. I run the shop for her when she’s out of town.”

  I shake his hand as I read his aura. Yellow and orange, both open, truthful colors. As I shake his hand, I can see only truth in his eyes and body language. Interesting, as I’ve never heard of him from Faye.

  “Well,” I say, “It’s nice to meet you, Tariq. Where did you say Faye is?”

  “I didn’t,” he says, smiling, “but nicely played. She’s on vacation.”

  “Somewhere mysterious?” I ask. “Faye doesn’t strike me as the vacation type. I can’t really picture her just lounging around on a beach somewhere.”

  Tariq raises an elegant shoulder and gives a secretive smile. “It is not for me to share the details of Faye’s life outside of this shop. However, she did say you would probably stop by, and she left a note for you.”

  “Oh, so how did you know who I was? Just because she told you I’d be coming?”

  “She described a very fit woman with a brown bob and – pardon me, as these are her words, not mine – a perpetual look of discomfort on her face,” Tariq at least has the decency to look embarrassed by that last part.

  “A perpetual look of discomfort on my face?” I ask. “My god, the witches are harsh today.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t actually think you wear a perpetual look of discomfort. I think you think a lot, that you worry a lot, which is totally unsurprising since you have such a big job.”

  “That is a lot of assuming, considering this is the first time we’ve met,” I argue.

  “I am pretty good at reading people,” he says. “Though that is not one of my official talents.”

  “Well, pardon me for being skeptical of people who act as if they know me when they do not,” I say. “I have been getting all kind of unsolicited advice lately. It’s getting tedious, and I’ve got a job to do, so I don’t have time for it.”

  Tariq doesn’t look the least bit offended, but I do feel bad for being so terse.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s been a bit of a day. Week. Month. Year.”

  “No need to be sorry,” he says, holding up a finger and walking to the back room. He’s only gone a moment before he returns with an envelope. I take it, thanking him, and start to leave but he speaks again.

  “I’ve been following the Centerfold Murders, Amy,” he says. “Like many have, I suppose. The papers haven’t said this, obviously, but can I assume that there is something supernatural going on?”

  I take a deep breath in and then let it out in a long, loud sigh. I open the envelope and find only a piece of paper with a time and a location on it. I flip it over to the back, nothing else written, and look at Tariq, befuddled.

  “I, uh, yeah,” I say, looking back at the cryptic note. “It is supernatural, but my boss would blow a gasket if I told him that, so I have to deal with it outside of the system.”

  “And you got put on leave, I read,” he says.

  “Yes, wow, Wes’s reporting is very thorough,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Actually, it makes me happy that he’s pushing Rick so hard on this. Rick doesn’t want to hear anything out of the ordinary. He wants this to be a quote-unquote normal case, and it simply isn’t. And, frankly, I think there’s a steaming helping of misogyny underlying all of it, too. The men on the force can’t stand that I’ve been more successful than they have at finding important details, and they want me off the case so they can keep up their imperial suckage.”


  I’m actually breathing kind of heavily after that outburst. I look at Tariq ruefully and apologize. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to voice frustration with Rick. He’s always been a mentor to me, someone I have respected. But lately, I feel he’s been making the wrong choices. I feel betrayed by him, when I’ve done nothing but good work.

  “Well, if I can be helpful to you with this case, please let me know,” Tariq says. “It must be hard to get your work done when you can’t access the usual tools you might use in your official role. Luckily, those of us with special abilities have other tools to use.”

  He grins at me and I can’t help but give him a smile – a weak one, but a smile nonetheless – in return.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say. “What are your…special abilities…if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I can control the elements,” he says.

  My eyes go wide at this. “Elemental magic?”

  “I can’t conjure,” he says. “At least, I don’t think so. I can only use what is around me. But yes. I can manipulate earth, air, fire, and water. Well, I can control fire and water. I’m working on the other two. I never had a mentor or anyone to help me train, so it can be a slow process.”

  “Tell me about it,” I say. “I’m still not even sure what my abilities are. And I’ve trusted the wrong people to help in the past. It has caused more trouble than it was worth. So, I guess I’m on the slow boat, too.”

  “Your fellow witches have not helped you unlock your abilities? Faye performed your Awakening, did she not?” Tariq asks.

  “She did, and they have not. They’ve tapped into my abilities in times of crisis, but neither seem versed in actual training. Perhaps that’s the way it is with witches, we have to find our own path, let the abilities build in their own time,” I say.

  “Perhaps,” he says. “Witches can be secretive by nature, but they can also help one another. The best teacher is another witch, but we often find ourselves self-trained. It is unfortunate. I value teamwork, friendship, and trust and I think we can all do more when we work together. Perhaps I am in the minority on that.”

 

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