Blood and Sand

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  Rory snorted. “From San Diego?”

  Baojia ignored the sting. It wasn’t intentional and it was hardly something Rory could help. Until Ernesto decided to let him out of his virtual prison, he was stuck.

  “Sorry.” His brother looked contrite. “You got the casino numbers?”

  “Yes.” He pulled out the file. “I’m warning you, everything appears to be in order.”

  Rory’s eyes twinkled. “Not a single head we can crack for missing money or booze?”

  “Sadly not,” he said with a smile. “But the employee pension fund needs a new manager.”

  “Embezzlement?”

  “Retirement.”

  “Damn.”

  By three in the morning, Rory was gone and Baojia was leaving the club. Luis would take care of the few after-hours patrons they entertained so Baojia could return to the home he had secured on Coronado Island, a few steps from the beach. It was a modern house with exactly the right number of windows and a very secure location. His driver dropped him off before dawn and returned at nightfall. Was it his comfortable warehouse in downtown LA? No, but it was modern and had a good area to train, so he was as content as he could be. He was just about to step into his car when he heard the voice.

  “Are you Baojia?”

  He smiled, somehow knowing it was Natalie Ellis before he turned. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “Took me a while to figure it out once I saw it written,” she mused, stepping closer. “Bow—like the bow of a ship, jeeah. It’s cool. Chinese?”

  “Perhaps.” Baojia spun around and regarded her. “Where did you hear it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Very much so.” He noticed that she had taken off the heels she’d been wearing and put on a pair of thin, black shoes, but her dress and makeup were the same. “You brought the wrong purse, Ms. Ellis.”

  “How—?” She frowned before raising the very practical black handbag. “I guess you see a lot of college kids, huh? Not the usual?”

  “You stood out. That’s not a bad thing. Where did you hear that name?”

  She stepped closer. “Did your errand boy give you my card?”

  “No. And I wouldn’t let him hear you call him an errand boy.”

  Her lips wore a slight smile. “But he is.”

  Baojia stepped closer. “We like to allow children their illusions, don’t we?”

  Her eyes were blue. A clear blue that reminded him of old memories of the sky reflecting on the water. She was a creature made for sunlight—a dusting of freckles covered her nose and dotted her shoulders. Though her skin was pale, it was flushed with life. The unexpected curl of arousal surprised him. Human women rarely held his interest.

  “Listen, I don’t want to waste your time. I’m looking for Baojia because someone told me he could help me with a story I’m writing.”

  “Oh? You’re a writer?” In his experience, humans usually abhorred silence and woerelence auld fill it with useful information, given the chance. One rarely had to question them. Just remain silent and they would tell you what you needed to know.

  “Yes.” The woman remained silent, too. One hand was placed on her hip and the other clutched her too-large purse. He couldn’t stop the smile. Apparently, they shared the same sentiments about silence. Finally, he shrugged and turned away.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Ellis. I can’t help you.”

  “You are Baojia, aren’t you?” She was persistent; he’d give her that. “If you won’t help me, I guess I’ll have to go talk to Ivan myself.”

  He spun so fast her eyes swam.

  “Hey, how did you—”

  Within seconds, Baojia had her tucked in the back of his sedan and told his driver to circle the block. Closing the privacy screen, he held her hand and watched her. She was completely out, rendered unconscious by the shock of his energy. He tried not to curse at his clumsy handling of the situation, but the sound of the other immortal’s name on her lips had startled him. What did this soft sunshine girl want with Ivan? And how the hell did she know to come to him for an introduction? She clearly did not know about their kind judging from her reaction to his speed.

  “Ms. Ellis?” Still holding her hand, he called her name softly to rouse her. He lessened the electrical current that ran over his skin and onto hers. “Natalie?”

  “Hmm?” Her eyes blinked open but still swam with confusion. “Where am I?”

  “In my car. I’ll make sure you get home safely. Where did you hear the name Baojia, Natalie? Who gave it to you?” His amnis eased into her mind, loosening her tongue. At this level of influence, she would tell him anything he wanted.

  “Dez did, silly.” She sounded drunk, her cerebral cortex awash in amnis. “You know, Desiree Riley… Well, Desiree Kirby now. I think she changed her name when she married Matt.”

  “Desiree Riley?” Beatrice De Novo’s best friend was also the wife of Matt Kirby, who ran security and other sensitive assignments for the Italian fire vampire who had taken somewhat permanent residence in Southern California. Giovanni Vecchio was Beatrice De Novo’s husband and a wary ally of his sire’s. Desiree Riley was, to put it bluntly, a human who knew things. Also, a human who wouldn’t have given out his name without reason, from what he knew of her. “Why did Dez give you my name?”

  “Badgered her.” Natalie laughed. “Poor thing. Kept at her until she cracked. It’s an important story, she knows that. Needed information. My editor…” The woman drifted off again and Baojia realized he had lost control of his amnis for a moment.

  “Natalie?”

  She was a lovely rumpled heap in the back of his car. Her red hair tumbled around her, falling into her face. Her nose wrinkled at the ticklish strands, causing Baojia to smile as he brushed it away.

  “Need to talk to Ivan. Name keeps coming up.” Her forehead was wrinkled now. “So many gone. Can’t… can’t continue. ’S wrong, you know?”

  “No.” He didn’t know. Didn’t know what she was talking about, but the mention of Ivan’s name was not something to be taken lightly. And there was no way this girl should be going to speak to the leader of Ensenada on her own. That was out of the question. He’d have to call Dez and investigate tomorrow night, but until then…

  “Natalie,” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” she whispered back.

  “Where do you livname do yoe?”

  She told him her address without question, along with a rather amusing anecdote about her neighbor Mr. Sanchez and his new Chihuahua. Finally, he had to interrupt.

  “I’m going to take you home now. Forget about Ivan.”

  She smiled mischievously. “I don’t forget anything, buddy.”

  “You will this time. Trust me.” He pulled her up and she slumped against his side, her head rolling to the side. Her neck was bared to him, beckoning him despite his earlier meal. Baojia felt the pressure increase as his fangs pressed down and the earlier curl of arousal turned into a jolt. He wanted this woman. Eyeing her neck, he considered what he knew about her.

  Natalie Ellis was a writer, a persistent one. She was also a friend of Dez’s, and possibly, Beatrice’s friend as well. Did she know them from school? He searched his memories of Beatrice’s time at university but could find no mention or memory of this woman. She seemed to be the right age to have been in grad school with Dez and Beatrice.

  “Who are you, Natalie?” He brushed away another strand of hair, twisting it around his finger for a moment. “And why did you come looking for me?”

  She grinned, even though her eyes were closed. “Knew you were Baojia.” They flickered open and met his. “You’re really handsome. How did you move so fast?”

  “I’m magic.”

  She giggled uncontrollably, throwing her head back in delight and sending a wave of her scent toward him. He growled at the back of his throat, which caused her to stop short and look at him with sleepy calculation. �
�You’re not magic,” she said. “But you’re something.”

  She had good instincts.

  “Something?”

  “Something… different.” She leaned closer and pressed herself against his chest, one hand going to his mouth. Her blue eyes looked up into his, then she looked down at his lips and traced around them. His teeth throbbed in his mouth and his lower lip dropped down on an exhale, revealing the tips of his fangs to her gaze.

  A tentative finger reached out and stroked along one. “Cool,” she whispered.

  “Natalie,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “you are not to contact Ivan in any way. Do you understand? Forget about him.”

  He increased the pressure of his influence on her mind until she slumped against his chest.

  “Okay,” she sighed.

  “Never. Never speak to Ivan.”

  “Sheesh.” She curled her lip. “Bossy.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I can tell. In fact, I bet you’re always serious.” Natalie rolled her eyes and pulled away. He let her go and tried to ignore the suddenly cool spot on his chest where she had rested. “Baojia?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re taking me home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I’m tired. And I have work tomorrow. And my editor’s boss… Ugh. I know he doesn’t like me. He puts up with me because of the drug-bust story, but it pisses him off. And I need to meet Kristy tomorrow. Did I put that in my phone? I better put that in my phone.” He cocked his head, watching her as she chattered. Suddenly, she looked down. “I can’t believe I wore this dress.”

  He smiled, oddly amused and sad that this interesting human would have no memory of their encounter. “You look lovely in it.”

  She smiled back, her eyes sparkling. riedreakling. Even with the wrong purse.”

  “It made you stand out.”

  “True.”

  She fell silent after that, his influence and the late hour lulling her into a peaceful slumber. He relayed her address to the driver, then sat back, pursing his lips as he looked at the human woman in his car.

  “A writer,” he muttered. Writers took notes. Notes that might contain Ivan’s name. It wouldn’t do for her to find those and start getting curious again. He didn’t have time to search her apartment before dawn, but he’d definitely be asking Dez some pointed questions tomorrow. Why had she given his name to a reporter? What was Natalie talking about when she said it had to stop? Why did Dez trust her?

  He sat up a little straighter and silently cheered when he realized he had something to investigate other than disappearing bottles of the top-shelf vodka. Then he glanced back at the human.

  What if she started looking for Ivan before he could find out why she knew about him? What would happen if she ran into the wrong people while he was in day rest?

  He frowned. She was just a woman. Why was he so concerned?

  Baojia let out a frustrated breath. Stupid, curious humans. They could be irritatingly persistent. But it was more intrigue than he’d had in months; he was actually looking forward to solving this mystery, even if it was regarding a mortal. Natalie’s leg moved against his, and he followed the line of her ankle up until the pale curve of her thigh disappeared under the edge of her dress.

  She was attractive and curious. What if she went looking for Ivan? She had no standing in their world. The name of Desiree Riley certainly wasn’t going to mean anything to more than a few. She didn’t belong to anyone. If she was an employee of his sire’s, she would fall under Don Ernesto’s general aegis and be protected against another vampire’s influence or use. If a vampire kept her for blood or sex, she would fall under his personal aegis and would be even more protected.

  But Natalie was under no immortal aegis at all, which meant she was fair game. He tapped his foot as he watched her sleep. The question wouldn’t leave him alone.

  What if she went looking for Ivan?

  Her head rolled to the side, and his eyes traced over the smooth, unmarred expanse of her neck. He felt his fangs lengthen and he leaned closer. Slipping one arm around her back, he brought her body close to his and her eyes blinked open.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  “Hey.”

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  He took a deep breath, enjoying her scent, which held hints of the ocean and the sun. “I’m putting you under my aegis.”

  “What does that mean?” She frowned. “You’re kinda weird.”

  “You have no idea.” He leaned closer and heard her sigh when his lips brushed against her pulse. Was he doing this for her? Or for himself? He tried to stop thinking and enjoy the anticipation of the bite.

  “What are you doing?” she asked again.

  “I’m going to bite your neck and drink some of your blood,” he murmured. “You won’t see the bites, but others will. And it will offer you a measure of protection until I can figure out what’s going on.”

  “I didn’t hear that right.” She blinked rapidly. “You’re going to… what?”

  His amnis washed over her skin, and Baojia felt the damp coastal air draw close as his energy wrapped around her. He closherher. Heed his eyes and slid his fangs into her neck. The rich taste flooded his mouth, and he felt Natalie arch her back.

  “Ohhhh, that feels really good. Holy… W…what are you doing to me?”

  He took only a mouthful before he grunted and forced himself back, licking the last bit of blood from his lips before he pierced his tongue and healed the delicate wounds in her neck. He closed his eyes, trying to will away the natural reaction of his flesh to hers. The sight of his marks in her neck gave him too much of a primitive thrill.

  “Natalie—”

  He was cut off when she kissed him. She grabbed his face with both hands and threw herself into it, moaning into his mouth as he gently pushed her away.

  “Natalie, you’re under my influence. It’s—” He cleared his throat. “This is not appropriate.”

  She was dazed, staring at him in confusion, hands still on his cheeks and arousal bringing a delicious flush to her pale skin. “Why not?”

  “Trust me. I have a feeling if you ever remembered this, you’d be more than a little pissed off.”

  She did the adorable wrinkling thing with her nose again. “I’m not going to remember this?”

  “No.” He gently pushed her back and buckled her into her seat belt.

  But I believe I will. For quite some time.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Natalie Ellis didn’t sleep in. So when the sun hit her face, she sat bolt upright in bed, looking around in confusion. Glancing down, she saw she had somehow fallen asleep in her bra and underwear and she had an odd feeling in her head. Not a headache exactly…

  “Ugh.” She groaned and swung her legs over the side of her bed, almost tripping over her black ballet flats. She shook her head to clear the sleep from her eyes and pulled on a long T-shirt, then put her unruly red hair into a messy bun at the back of her head. She’d just had it cut, and the stylist had snipped off a bit too much. As a result, it was constantly falling into her face. She curled her lip in annoyance and decided she needed coffee.

  “Coffee,” she whispered as she made her way to the kitchen of her small duplex in Hillcrest. She could hear Mr. Sanchez’s new Chihuahua, Pippy, yapping already. “Coffee, coffee, coffee,” she chanted, trying to ignore the high-pitched barking. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dogs. She’d grown up with a German shepherd, for goodness sake, but she wasn’t totally convinced that Chihuahuas were actual dogs. Her brain was still fuzzy, as if she’d taken a sleeping pill. Not that she ever did. Natalie didn’t need much sleep, but when she finally crashed, she went out like a light. Hitting the counter, she managed to pull out the filters and grounds, pouring in the Kona blend she treated herself to on payday.

  After the coffee was started, she looked around her house again. The small living room flowed out onto a whitewashed wooden deck that was the real reason she had le
ased the place. It was her second house in San Diego, but the one she hoped to stay in. Close enough to downtown to ride her bike, she was within walking distance of cafes, a good market, and lots of boutiques and restaurants. The fact that she also had a friendly, grandfather-ish landlord helped too. Mr. Sanchez thought being a writer was slightly more glamorous than it actually was, but then she was fairly sure she’d heard His Girl Friday playing more than once from her side of the wall.

  As if on cue, her phone rang. Where wa sts her phone? She always knew where her phone was. It was practically glued to her hand. Natalie looked around in confusion, noting the general disarray for the first time. Her nice black dress was hanging on the back of the dining room chair. Her heels were tossed by the couch. Her purse… was ringing.

  Picking it up from the coffee table, she dug around, hitting answer just in time to hear her editor, Kristy, muttering.

  “—least have the decency to call if she’s not coming in like she said. Don’t know—”

  “I’m here, Kristy.” Shit, she sounded annoyed. It was Saturday, wasn’t it? Natalie rubbed her eyes. It had to be. She wasn’t supposed to go into the offices of the Tribune on Saturday.

  “Hey! Where are you? We were supposed to meet for lunch at the Hash House, remember?”

  “Oh shit,” she groaned. “What time is it?”

  “How late were you out last night? Did you find him?”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “Find who?” She racked her brain. Where did she even go last night? Her dress said nice restaurant or club, but she didn’t remember. She blinked, the scent of coffee starting to clear her head.