by Lynsay Sands
“Sure.” Vincent retrieved a bag and straightened just in time to see Tiny slip from the room, then his glance slid to his aunt. “In a glass, or out of the bag?”
“The bag is fine, thank you,” Marguerite murmured.
He carried the bag to her, handed it over, then took a seat at the table and shook his head.
“What is it?” Marguerite asked, catching the action.
“I was just thinking, I’ve owned this house for almost ten years and had never once used the kitchen until this last week or so, and now we seem to use it all the time.”
Marguerite smiled faintly. “That’s not the only thing that has changed since Jackie got here.”
Vincent nodded in agreement, his gaze moving around the cozy room. It had always seemed somewhat cold and utilitarian to him before Jackie and Tiny had arrived. They’d filled it with sound, warmth, and the delightful smell of cooking food. Somehow, they’d made his house a home.
“Have you tried to read Jackie?” Marguerite asked suddenly.
“Yes, I tried to read her tonight and couldn’t,” he admitted quietly and then lowered his gaze to his clasped hands on the table top, his mind a muddle.
Vincent liked Jackie and enjoyed her company. He even liked her bossiness with him at times. And then there was tonight as they’d danced…Vincent had never felt so at peace in his life. Holding her in his arms, he’d felt like he’d found home.
As for when he’d kissed her…God, he hadn’t felt such passion in centuries. His heretofore lack of interest in sex had most definitely been revived this evening. In fact, if he were to be honest with himself, he’d admit it had been revived even before tonight. Since the day in his office when he’d slipped into her dreams, Vincent had wasted hours each morning before going to sleep, just lying in bed, imagining stripping her naked, laying her on various flat surfaces, and feasting on every inch of her body.
But it had all seemed to be happening too fast. He’d delayed trying to read Jackie and finding out if she really was his life mate to allow himself time to adjust to the possibility that he had finally found his life mate, as well as to allow her time to get to know him. Immortals knew that when they found the one they couldn’t read, they’d found their life mate. They accepted it and went with it easily. For mortals, it was a little different, they generally needed time to adjust. Their desire was there, and the bonding happened, but the logical part of their mind often insisted on a courtship.
Unfortunately, Vincent’s delay had lost him any chance with Jackie. He could never turn her now. If he hadn’t been such a coward and delayed, if he’d turned her right away—
Vincent shook his head. If he’d done that, Stephano would now be dead, although he wasn’t sure the man might not still die. He frowned to himself as he wondered why the man hadn’t yet awoken. They were all starting to become terribly worried.
“Jackie has no family, nothing to hold her to the mortal world,” Marguerite said suddenly, drawing his mind back to the topic at hand. “She would do very well as one of us, Vincent. She will be a good life mate to you. She compliments you perfectly.”
“We will not be life mates,” Vincent said quietly.
“She is your life mate, Vincent. Your missing half.”
He shifted with irritation and snapped the truth he hadn’t wanted to look at too closely before now. “I cannot turn her.”
“But I can,” she pointed out.
“You—” Vincent paused abruptly and glanced toward the door as it opened, not wanting Jackie to overhear what they were talking about. However, it wasn’t Jackie who entered. It wasn’t even Tiny. He stared blankly at the man standing in the kitchen doorway. Tall, at least his own height or more, the man had long auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was also dressed all in black and eyeing them with cold, grim eyes.
“Who the hell are you?” Vincent asked, getting to his feet.
The stranger remained silent, his gaze sliding over Marguerite, only switching back to Vincent when he stepped protectively in front of her.
“Well?” Vincent asked.
The man arched one eyebrow, looking vaguely amused at his reaction to his presence as he finally said, “Christian Notte.”
“Neil and Stephano’s cousin from Europe,” Vincent realized and his stance relaxed. Obviously, Jackie had let the man in and sent him to the kitchen. “When did you arrive in California?”
“Today,” he admitted. “We called when we landed at the airport. There was no answer.
“We were out earlier making the rounds of the clubs and only got home about fifteen minutes ago. I told Neil not to bother answering the phone,” Vincent explained. His gaze slid to the door as he wondered where Jackie was, but he supposed she was still in the office and would be along shortly. He glanced around the kitchen, but was at a complete loss as to what to do or say, finally he sighed and offered, “I’m sorry about Stephano. He’s a good man. A friend.”
Christian Notte nodded slowly, but he was frowning as he asked, “You were out tonight and just got back?”
“Yes.” Vincent’s eyebrows drew together at his expression. Concerned the man was offended that they appeared to be out partying so soon after Stephano’s attack, he said quickly, “It was necessary. We weren’t just out having a laugh.” He hesitated, then added, “I have to feed off living donors because of a genetic—”
“Neil explained about that,” Christian interrupted. “He said the last donor you fed off of was murdered after Stephano’s attack.”
“Yes.” Vincent nodded. “Well, I’ve been avoiding going out to feed for the past several days and have been feeding on delivery guys, but Tiny pointed out tonight that the saboteur would soon realize that was what I was doing if I didn’t at least look like I was going to the clubs again. The last thing I want is anyone else killed, so we went out, and went quickly from one club to another in the hopes of losing my saboteur long enough for him to think I’d fed while he was trying to catch up to us.”
Christian nodded. “It’s probably for the best. If he didn’t think you were feeding on the delivery people, he would probably assume you were feeding on your detectives and target them.”
Vincent felt Marguerite stand behind him, then she touched his back. “Vincent, he might have thought as much when you slipped into the storage room with Jackie tonight. If he was there watching, he might think you were in there feeding on Jackie.”
Vincent frowned at the suggestion. It was something he hadn’t considered. He didn’t want to mark anyone for death by feeding on them, but he definitely didn’t want any harm coming to Jackie…or Tiny, he added as an afterthought. In truth, Jackie was his main concern.
“I’ll have to talk to Jackie about this,” he muttered, pushing one hand though his hair and then his gaze focused on Christian. He asked, “Did she go back into the office after she let you in?”
“No one let me in.”
Vincent blinked. “What?”
“The panel at the end of the driveway was broken so we couldn’t buzz you to open the gate. I left my cousin in the car, came over the wall and up to the house to have you open the gate so he could drive in. That’s why I was surprised when you said you’d just got home. There’s no way you could have driven past the damaged panel without noticing it. It’s smashed and the wires pulled out.”
Vincent stiffened at this news and frowned. “What did Jackie say when you told her about it?”
Christian tilted his head and asked, “Jackie is one of the private detectives your brother Bastien sent out from New York to help you with this saboteur?”
Vincent nodded. He’d told Neil everything. He’d felt he owed it to him to be honest about why his brother had been attacked.
“I haven’t—” Christian began, then paused as the kitchen door started to swing open again.
They all glanced toward it, waiting to see if Tiny or Jackie entered. Neither mortal did. Instead, another man paused in the doorway. Fair-haired and also dres
sed all in black, he peered around the people in the kitchen. His gaze moved with disinterest over Vincent, but flickered briefly with what might have been recognition on Marguerite before finally settling on Christian. One eyebrow rose in question.
“I told you to wait in the car, Marcus,” Christian said with irritation.
“You were taking a long time,” the man said with a shrug. “I came to nose around and found the French doors open, so I came in and followed the voices.”
“The French doors are open?” Vincent asked, the hair on the back of his neck beginning to creep.
Marcus nodded.
“That’s how I got in,” Christian announced. “As I came up to the house I saw the French doors were open. Between that and the broken front panel, I thought there might be a problem, so I came in and followed your voices to the kitchen.”
Marguerite turned and clutched at his arm. “Vincent, if the saboteur does think you fed on Jackie tonight and she is a target…Jackie was going to check messages in the office.”
Vincent felt the blood drain from his face. Jackie would never leave the French doors open.
“I’ll go see if Jackie is upstairs changing.”
Vincent heard his aunt’s words and saw her hurry out of the kitchen, but his mind seemed to be in something of a panic. Everything was moving at super slow speed for him. He gave himself a mental shake, glanced from one man to the other in his kitchen, then slowly followed his aunt’s path and walked out of the room. She’d already disappeared upstairs, but Tiny was now coming down and his eyebrows flew up at the sight of the two men who had followed Vincent out of the kitchen. He supposed the man was a bit shocked. He doubted Tiny often saw men his own size and to see two now seemed to startle him.
“She’s not in her room!” Marguerite didn’t bother to hide her alarm as she reappeared at the top of the stairs.
Tiny glanced from Marguerite to Vincent. “Maybe she’s still checking the answering machine.”
Turning, Vincent continued up the hall to the office. He thrust the door open, his gaze flying around the empty room as papers flew off his desk, blown off by the wind coming from the still-open French doors.
“It was like this when I entered,” Marcus announced, making Vincent aware that all of them had followed.
Vincent stared at the darkness beyond the open doors. His heart seemed to stop dead in his chest as panic claimed him. Images swam before his eyes of Jackie’s pale, broken body lying twisted and drained of blood. He’d made her a target without meaning to. He couldn’t lose her now. She was his best hope for happiness in the future. And there was still hope for them.
Vincent wasn’t sure if he would allow his aunt to turn her and give up her own hope of turning a life mate if she found one in the future, but it had reminded him that Stephano’s mother had always wanted to turn her son. Neil’s father was her life mate, she might be willing to turn Jackie for him. But even if she didn’t, fifty years or so of bliss with Jackie were better than nothing.
Vincent rushed across the room and into the night, silently praying he’d find her in time.
Jackie’s feet were cold. It was late enough that dew had formed on the grass and she was creeping barefoot through the damp blades. She wished she’d at least put slippers on. She also wished she’d called out for help before chasing off after the intruder she’d seen slipping from the house. Running after him had been instinct, but it had been a bad instinct. She was a lone, unarmed mortal tearing through the darkness on the heels of a strong, fast immortal. How stupid was that?
She glanced to the side as she ran around the back of the house. Light was spilling out of the kitchen windows in a wide square onto the tiled patio between the house and pool. In that lit room, Vincent, Tiny, and Marguerite were waiting for her to join them for coffee.
Jackie considered shouting out to them, but decided against it. The intruder was already far enough ahead of her that she wasn’t likely to catch up. Her best hope at this point was to follow him, discover where he’d come onto the property so that they could perhaps prevent his using it again. And maybe to catch a glimpse of the license plate of his vehicle as he drove away.
If she got there in time to even see what he was driving, Jackie thought grimly as the dark figure ahead of her slipped into the trees and hedges that ran the length of the tall fence that separated the lawn from the sandy beach. These immortals were damned fast. Gritting her teeth, she put on a burst of speed and charged for the narrow line of woods bordering the back of the property.
Branches snapped under foot as she crashed into the trees and Jackie winced, knowing the stealth factor had just disappeared if it had ever been there. The saboteur definitely knew he was being pursued now. Although in truth, he had probably known prior to this, she acknowledged. The hearing of immortals was exceptional.
She paused as she reached the high wall that surrounded Vincent’s property and glanced along its length both ways. There was no sign of anyone nearby. Either the saboteur had vaulted the fence, or was hiding.
Jackie hesitated, then glanced sharply up at the trees along the fence as a branch snapped. She’d barely glimpsed the figure in the branches overhead before he swung himself out and over the wall. She barely heard the thud as he landed on the other side. She was already climbing the nearest tree.
She would have someone out the next morning to cut the damned things down and to clear away all the hedges along the fence so that there was nowhere to hide, Jackie decided as she climbed. They might look more attractive than the plain wall, but safety was more important than aesthetics.
Unfortunately, Jackie was a city detective. Running up alleys, jogging up stairs, racing through subways…All of this she could manage without difficulty. However, there wasn’t much call for tree climbing in New York. She managed to get herself up the tree and make her way out on the branch, but that was where her luck gave out. She heard the snap one heartbeat before the branch suddenly collapsed beneath her.
Jackie grabbed wildly at passing branches as she fell, but it was no use. She landed on something hard and only realized it was the intruder when she heard an “Oooomph!” as they both crashed to the ground.
Her panic immediately increased.
Jackie had been trained in martial arts since she was a small child, her father had insisted on it, and still she wouldn’t take on an immortal unarmed. One, two, or maybe even three mortals? No problem, but immortals? Nah-uh. Not on her own and without a weapon of some sort to back her up. It wasn’t just that they were stronger and faster. They didn’t seem to feel pain like mortals either, as if the nanos blocked some of it when necessary to allow them to continue to do battle. And they were damned hard to knock out. As for killing them, forget about it. Unless you had something to take their heads off with, say a sword or grenade, you weren’t going to win.
However, having fallen on the intruder, she didn’t have much choice. Jackie was in the battle now and reacted automatically, her body scrabbling to do whatever was necessary to survive. It was a very short, desperate struggle. Realizing that she wasn’t going to survive if she persisted, Jackie managed to take the intruder by surprise and roll away and to her feet in one move.
She had barely become conscious of the cold, gritty sand squishing between her toes when she was jerked around by the hair and into a dark embrace. Jackie grunted as her chest slammed against the intruder’s chest, then gasped as her head was suddenly jerked back and to the side, then he struck like a snake, his head swooping forward toward the throat he’d exposed.
Suddenly as paralyzed as a cat caught by the scruff of the neck, she moaned at the rending pain as her throat was ripped open by unseen fangs. She then stared blindly at the stars overhead as the scent of blood drifted up around her, and slurping sounds filled her ears, and knew her life was being sucked away.
Jackie didn’t know if it was blood loss, or horror, but after several endless moments, the pain and sounds began to fade to nothingness and even th
e stars overhead began to twinkle out of view.
“Jackie!”
She heard the shout with some faint part of her mind, but didn’t understand what it meant until her attacker suddenly stilled, head jerking up away from her throat. Jackie’s mind struggled back from the hopelessness and shock that had laid claim to it, the smallest flicker of hope sparking to life within her soul.
“Jackie!” This time she recognized Vincent’s voice. She also saw blurry movement beyond her attacker, and immediately understood that it was salvation coming. Then she saw the glint of metal as her attacker suddenly released her. Some part of her mind was terribly alert, blindingly so, and instinct made her grab for the arm swinging the weapon in Vincent’s direction, clawing at it with both hands, but she was weak with blood loss and couldn’t hold on.
It was desperation and instinct that made Jackie sink her teeth into that arm. If she couldn’t keep her attacker from wielding the weapon at Vincent, she would force him to drop the damned weapon. That was her only thought. She had to save Vincent.
Blood gushed into her mouth as Jackie chomped down on the wrist, but she merely swallowed the salty liquid to keep from choking and held on like a bulldog, terror and rage giving her the strength to do so.
A curse reached her ears, then her attacker pressed one hand to her forehead and pushed her off. Jackie felt more blood gush into her mouth as her teeth tore through flesh, then her hold slipped and she was tumbling backward to the sand. She moaned as her back slammed to the ground, then rolled weakly onto her side and lay limp, watching helplessly as her attacker turned on Vincent.
Much to her relief, her efforts had helped after all. Vincent had seen the weapon in the hand she’d been struggling to hold onto and now kicked out at it. She saw the knife go flying off into the darkness as the two began to struggle.
Heart pounding and hands clenching around her bleeding throat, Jackie curled into a ball in the cool sand and watched the shifting shapes in the darkness. It was hard to see anything, however, and she was so weak and weary.
