The Trouble With Vampires

by Sands, Lynsay

  “Post-coital faints?” Bricker asked, wincing. “Who talks like that?”

  “He was not talking,” Marguerite pointed out.

  “Yeah, but he could have thought something like after they woke from their post belly-bumping faint or something.”

  “Belly bumping?”

  “Bonestorming?” he suggested.

  “Bricker.”

  “Bumping uglies?”

  “If you are through with your recitation of the most disgusting ways to describe making love,” Marguerite said dryly.

  “Oh, those aren’t the most disgusting ones,” he assured her.

  “You have worse ones?” Zani asked with a grin.

  “Oh, yeah,” Bricker bragged.

  “Let’s hear them,” Zani said with amusement.

  “Dear God,” Marguerite muttered, scowling at her cards.

  “Let’s see.” Bricker thought briefly and then started to spout some out just as the phone began to ring. “Launching the meat missile, the tube-snake boogie, thumping thighs, a little bit of lust-and-thrust, splitting the beard, a hot beef injection, paddling up Coochie Creek, dipping the—”

  “Santo?”

  Bricker stopped abruptly and they all turned toward the doorway with surprise. The phone had rung several times since they’d started staying here, but they’d always ignored it, leaving the answering machine to get it. It had mostly been sales calls, with a handful of calls from family. Hearing that small voice calling out Santo’s name from the kitchen answering machine shocked all of them. The sob that followed, though, had Santo on his feet and hurrying out of the den.

  “Please be there! Aunt Pet said to call. She said you’d be there!” Parker’s voice was full of panic, desperation, and accusation as he cried those words. They made Santo’s heart squeeze with dread as he crossed the hall and hurried into the kitchen with everyone following.

  “Please! We need you! I don’t know what to do. I—”

  “Parker?” Santo barked as he grabbed up the phone.

  Broken sobs of fear, worry, and relief were his answer, both in the phone and from the answering machine as it continued to tape the message. The sound seemed to surround Santo and he squeezed the wireless receiver until he heard a crack, and then forced his hand to relax and tried to sound soothing as he said, “It’s okay, Parker. I’m here. What’s wrong, son?”

  “There’s someone here. I can hear things breaking in the kitchen. But—”

  “Where’s Pet?” Santo interrupted grimly. “Where’s your aunt?”

  “She’s here, but she won’t wake up, and I don’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. She’s covered in it. She said to call you and then . . . I can’t wake her up and I’m scared!”

  Santo froze at those words, horror sucking at his brain, but then Marguerite touched his arm and he cleared his throat. All he could manage was, “I’m on my way.”

  He held the phone out to her, barely waiting for Marguerite to take the wireless receiver before letting go and running for the door.

  “Zani, go pick up the phone in the living room,” he heard Marguerite order as he hit the hall. Her voice seemed to follow him, but he didn’t understand why until she said to Parker, “Sweetheart, everything is going to be fine. Julius, Santo, and I are on our way. Zani is going to stay on the phone with you until we get there, okay? Now where are you?”

  “In my bedroom. Aunt Pet had me put a chair under the doorknob, but what if he gets in?” Santo heard the boy ask as he reached the front entry. Jaw tightening, he dragged the door open and rushed out onto the porch but glanced over his shoulder as he did to see his aunt and uncle hard on his heels.

  “Then you hide under your bed or in the closet until we get there,” Marguerite said.

  “But what about Aunt Pet?” Parker asked worriedly as Santo broke into a run at immortal speed.

  “She will be fine,” Marguerite assured him. “And we will be there soon. Now there is Zani on the other phone, and I am going to lose your call on this phone. But you just talk to Zani. He will tell you what to do. Okay?”

  Santo didn’t hear the answer this time. He was rounding the hedge to get to the SUV and was too far away from the house to hear the answering machine anymore.

  “I am driving,” Julius growled, coming up beside him as he reached the driver’s door. When Santo opened his mouth to protest, he added, “You are in no shape to drive. Besides, I have the keys. You gave them to me when you got back. I will drive quickly, but get us there in one piece.”

  After the briefest hesitation, Santo nodded abruptly. Seeing that Marguerite was already opening the front passenger door, the now dead house phone still in her hand, he got in the back seat.

  The ride to Pet’s apartment building was silent and tense. Julius did drive fast, far above the speed limit. Marguerite even had to control and send away three different policemen in three different cars in the short distance. Still, it was not fast enough for Santo. He wanted to be there now. His mind was roaring with fear and dread that Pet was dead. That he’d lost her before he could claim her.

  With anxiety shredding his heart, Santo was out of the car before Julius had finished parking. He heard a second door close and Marguerite call out, but didn’t slow or look around to verify that she too had got out before Julius was quite parked.

  A couple was approaching the door as he ran up to the building. Santo controlled them and made them open the door for him to enter. He’d just crossed the lobby and reached the hall that ran both left and right to the main floor apartments when Marguerite caught his arm and pointed out, “We need the manager to give us a key to get in.”

  “There is no time,” Santo growled, and then movement drew his gaze up the hall to the left and he saw the apartment manager staring at them suspiciously from his door. Santo slid into the man’s mind at once, verified that he had his key ring with all the apartment keys on him, and took control, making him wait where he was as Santo moved around his aunt. He spotted Julius hurrying through the door the mortal couple still held open, but ignored him and burst into immortal speed to reach the old man.

  Once he had the key, Santo continued up the hall to the stairwell door, sure he could reach Pet’s floor faster that way than by elevator. Julius and Marguerite followed, all of them silent until they burst through the door into the hall.

  “Do you know which key it is?” Marguerite asked, eyeing the large ring of keys anxiously as they hurried to Pet’s door.

  “I got it from the manager’s mind,” Santo growled, and wasn’t surprised by her amazed expression. Even he was shocked that he’d thought of it in the state he was in.

  The apartment was silent and dark when he opened the door. Santo hit the switch on the wall as he entered, and the entry’s overhead light blazed to life, chasing the shadows back almost to the end of the kitchen. The sight that met them, though, brought Santo to a halt. There was a wooden knife block on the floor with its knives scattered everywhere, two chairs knocked over by the dining room table, and the blinds beyond the table were swinging in the night breeze coming in through the open balcony doors. But it was the blood splattered across the cupboards and refrigerator door that held his attention. The words arterial spray slid through his head. It was a sign that a major artery had been severed. Without help, it took only twenty seconds to a couple of minutes for a mortal to die from a wound like that. It had taken them ten minutes to get here.

  Pet had probably been dead before they’d even got Parker’s call.

  Santo was vaguely aware of Marguerite slipping past him to start up the hall, and then Julius moved up beside him to put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I am sorry, Santo,” he offered quietly.

  Santo closed his eyes at this verification that he was right. His Pet was dead, he acknowledged, and then opened his eyes again, and simply stood staring at the kitchen and imagining Pet’s last moments and the violence that must have preceded her death.

  “Parker? It is
Marguerite, honey. Can you move the chair?” The words drifted to them from the hall.

  “Marguerite?” There was no missing the relief in the boy’s voice.

  “Yes, honey. Can you move the chair so I can come in?”

  “Yes. But Aunt Pet is in front of the door and won’t wake up, and she’s too heavy, I can’t move her.”

  “That’s okay. Just move the chair, sweetheart and I will slip in and move her,” Marguerite said firmly.

  They heard a door open and then close, and then silence filled the apartment before Julius asked solemnly, “Do you want to see her?”

  Santo closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging briefly, but then he forced them back up, only to have them droop back down again in defeat.

  “I—I need a minute,” he said huskily.

  Julius patted his back and then slid past him to follow the path Marguerite had taken.

  Santo waited until he was gone, and then moved silently forward to the end of the island, memories of his time here tearing at his heart. Helping Pet unpack her groceries, teasing her about her cooking, eating their meal from the restaurant . . . He turned to the right then, peering into the living room at the chair by the window. In his mind, he could see Pet standing there in her red dress, staring out over the city at night.

  “Santo!”

  He turned at that urgent call from his uncle. The hall light was on now and Julius was waving him over.

  “She is alive,” Julius hissed.

  Eyes widening incredulously, Santo broke into a run, rushing past him into the room. Parker stood at the foot of the bed, Mrs. Wiggles in his arms, and fear and worry on his face. Marguerite stood on the far side of the bed, bent forward over Pet who lay in it. And Pet . . . Santo’s heart stuttered as he looked at her. There was so much blood. It covered her face and chest. It was hard to believe she yet lived, and he stopped halfway across the room to ask uncertainly, “She is not dead?”

  Marguerite straightened with a frown. “No. But—”

  “No?” Santo barked, shock and hope warring within him as he thought there was still a chance if he was quick enough. He was at the bed in a heartbeat, his fangs already out and wrist rising to his mouth.

  “She’s alive,” Marguerite assured him on a sigh. “But she appears—Santo, no!” she cried with shock when she glanced up and saw what he was doing. But it was too late. He’d already ripped a six-inch swath of skin from his wrist and crawled across the bed to press the gushing wound to Pet’s mouth.

  “Santo, she is not—I do not think—the blood does not seem to be hers,” Marguerite got out at last.

  Santo glanced up with shock. “What?”

  “I could not find any wounds on her,” she told him quickly. “She has a couple of bumps on her head, but I do not think you need to turn her.”

  Eyes widening, Santo pulled his wrist away and stared down at Pet with a confusion of emotion.

  They were all silent for a moment, and then Julius approached the bed and peered down at Pet’s still face. Letting out a slow breath, he said hopefully, “Maybe she did not get enough.”

  Pet disabused them all of that notion by suddenly sitting up in bed on a shriek of agony. Her eyes were wide open, revealing the silver specks pouring into their dark depths.

  Santo stared, Julius cursed, and Marguerite punched Pet in the face, knocking her out.

  “Take Pet down to the SUV, Santo.”

  When he turned a shocked and angry face to Marguerite, she clucked impatiently and pointed out, “This is an apartment building, Santo. We will have the police at the door if she wakes and starts screaming again, and the next time I do not think she will be subdued as easily. So move!”

  She didn’t wait to see if he followed her order, but hurried to the end of the bed to scoop up Parker and his cat. “Come along, darling. Everything will be fine. We are taking you and your Aunt Pet back to the Caprellis’ house where you will be safe and we can take care of her.”

  “You punched Aunt Pet,” Parker pointed out with dismay, his eyes wide.

  “Yes, I did, dear, but it was for her own good,” Marguerite assured the boy as she carried him out of the room.

  Santo watched them go, gave his head a shake, and then bent to pick up Pet.

  “Well,” Julius said, following him to the door. “On the bright side, you do not have to convince her to turn now.”

  “No, I just have to beg her forgiveness for doing it without her permission,” he said grimly. “I will be lucky to keep my head.”

  “I am sure that is not a concern. You thought you were saving her life. The North American Council will understand,” Julius assured him.

  “It is not the Council I am worried about,” Santo said dryly.

  “You do not mean Pet?” his uncle asked on a laugh as they started up the hall.

  Santo didn’t laugh with him. Instead he said, “You did notice the blood everywhere and the bloody butcher knife on the floor of the bedroom, did you not?”

  “Well, yes but . . .”

  “A mortal could not survive that kind of blood loss,” he pointed out. “Yet there was no body.”

  “You think Pet fought off an immortal?” Julius asked with surprise as they stepped out of the hall.

  Santo paused at the end of the kitchen and cast one more glance over the mess.

  “There is not even a blood trail,” he pointed out. “Just arterial spray on the counters and refrigerator, and a small amount of blood on the floor.”

  “And more on Pet,” Julius murmured, looking down at her.

  “Yet Marguerite says all she has is a bump or two on the head,” Santo growled.

  “Damn,” Julius breathed with realization. “You are right. That little girl fought off an immortal.”

  Santo grunted, and peered down at the petite woman in his arms.

  “And she took a round out of the bastard too,” Julius said now, sounding like a proud papa.

  Grunting again, Santo turned and headed for the entry door.

  They were silent as they left the apartment and started up the hall toward the elevators where Marguerite and Parker were waiting, and then Julius said, “A word of advice, nephew.”

  “Sì?” Santo asked.

  “Do not anger your little life mate there, if you can help it.”

  “A bit late for that, uncle,” Santo said on a sigh as he stopped a few steps from Marguerite and studied Pet’s sleeping face. He suspected she would not be at all happy when she woke up and learned she had been turned without her permission. Santo saw a lot of groveling and making up to do in his future. Despite that, he found a smile slowly taking over his face. He hadn’t lost her. Pet was alive.

  Seventeen

  Pet woke up in a rose garden. At least that’s what she thought when she first opened her eyes. She was surrounded by the delicate blooms in every color imaginable. It took her a moment to realize that the flowers were actually in vases that covered every surface of the guest room she and Parker had used the night they’d stayed at her sister’s neighbors, the Caprellis’. Alarm immediately claimed her, and Pet scrambled to sit up against the headboard, her eyes skating over the overlarge T-shirt she was wearing as the sheet and duvet that had been covering her slid to her waist.

  “You are awake.”

  Her head turned at that soft rumble, but all Pet saw was a large bouquet of multicolored roses mixed with baby’s breath and greens and then Santo’s face appeared around the flowers. She blinked at him with confusion until he stood, and then she realized he’d been sitting in a chair next to the bed.

  She started to relax, but then frowned and asked, “Am I dying?”

  “No, of course not,” he said, looking shocked. “Why would you think that?”

  Pet gestured at the flowers around the room. “The last time I saw this many flowers was in Grandma Stone’s hospital room when she was dying of cancer,” she said wryly. “What’s happened?”

  Santo looked wary. “You do not remember last
night?”

  “Last night?” she asked with bewilderment.

  “What is the last thing you remember?”

  Pet searched her mind briefly, and then her eyes widened. “The immortal! We fought in the kitchen, and I cut off his head.”

  “You did?” Santo asked with surprise.

  “Well . . . no,” she admitted slowly as her memories became clearer. “I stuck the knife in his neck and pulled it out the front. I guess I half cut through his neck. Not that it seemed to affect him much,” she added dryly. “He didn’t even go down. Just stood there holding his neck. I suppose I should have finished the job, but I was dizzy and nauseous and I was afraid I was going to pass out, so I stumbled down the hall to Park—where’s Parker?” she interrupted herself to ask anxiously. Her gaze shot to Santo’s face. “Is he all right? I think I told him to call you, but—”

  “Parker is fine. He’s at school,” Santo assured her before she could get too wound up.

  “Oh, good,” she breathed. “So I guess he did call you guys?”

  “Sì. He called, and Marguerite, Julius, and I headed straight over. I took control of your apartment manager to get the keys to get in, and then we brought both of you back here.”

  “Oh.” Pet sighed the word.

  “Did you recognize your attacker?” Santo asked after a moment.

  Pet pictured the figure in her mind, but that was all she’d really seen—a figure silhouetted in her door, and then a dark shape she’d battled with.

  “No,” she said finally. “It was a man . . . tall, slim, short hair, I think . . . That’s it.”

  “That fits the description Parker gave of Purdy’s cousin,” Santo murmured thoughtfully.

  “You think it was Dressler?”

  He hesitated and then shook his head. “We did not see him leave the house, but the rogue next door is the only one we know of in the area. If he is Dressler, then . . .”

  “Huh,” Pet muttered, and then scowled. “Well, what’s his beef with me then?”

  “Who can say with rogues? They are usually at least half insane,” Santo said on a sigh.