Always the Vampire (18 page)

“Saber, it’s okay. I’m here.”

He didn’t acknowledge me, but his voice weakened when he shouted again. “Get out. Burns. Run.”

I didn’t know what he dreamed of, but seeing welts break out on his chest and upper arms heightened my terror. First red, the welts darkened to angry black. Was this the Void sickness or a physical reaction to the dream? Remembered injuries, perhaps? The smell of fear and scorched skin filled the room, and I swallowed back a gag.

“Saber, wake up!” I yelled the order.

Following my instincts, I threw my leg over his hips and captured his wrists, pinning his fevered body with my weight.

“Saber. Saber, it’s Cesca. Wake up.”

His upper body jerked, then he bucked his hips. I clamped my knees tighter and held on.

“Saber, wake up now. Please.”

Suddenly, he stilled. His breath came in short gasps, but the welts began to fade to a deep brown that almost blended with his tan. Almost.

I leaned closer. “Deke? Darling, I’m here.”

A harsh inhalation, and his eyelids snapped open. He blinked, struggled to place me.

“Cesca.”

“Shhh. It’s okay now.” I brushed a kiss across his lips, releasing his wrists as I sat up. “You had a nightmare.”

“Nightmare.” He tested the word as if he’d never heard it.

“Do you remember the dream?”

“Don’t want to talk about it now. I’m hot. Need a shower.”

“Will you be all right while I turn on the water?”

His head lolled on the pillow, and I dashed to the shower stall. With lukewarm water running and a fresh towel on the countertop, I hurried back to help him out of bed.

His knees buckled once, just as I got him on his feet, and again crossing the bathroom threshold. He maintained a grim silence all the way.

“Want me to wash your back?”

He gave me a quick glance. “I can manage.”

So much for my attempt at levity.

He gripped the slate-tiled shower frame with one hand, the shower door with the other. “I won’t be long.”

But he was. Long enough for me to put fresh linens on the bed—the ones with the funky surfboard print that matched my comforter.

Long enough for me to see him through the frosted shower door, his hands braced against the wall, his shoulders heaving.

Long enough for me to pace a rut in the bedroom’s bamboo flooring.

Forget frightened. Forget worried. I was freaked.

Should I ask about the dream? Would he relive the horrors if I did? If he remembered the nightmare but kept it bottled up, would that be worse?

The shower cut off, and I leaped to hand him the towel as the shower door clicked open.

He took the towel like a robot, his movements stiff, jerky. He never looked at me, but I searched his body for remaining signs of those welts. They’d faded more, but I picked up light bruising here and there.

“Saber, it’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” He toweled his hair then his body, and hung the bath sheet on a brushed-nickel rack.

Finally he met my gaze, his expression flat. Again, I did what my instincts demanded. I crossed the step that separated us and folded him in my arms.

“Talk to me, Deke.”

A shudder shimmied through him, but he didn’t return my embrace.

“I need a glass of juice.”

He spoke as emotionlessly as he stood. I stepped back and nodded.

“You want it in the kitchen or served in bed?” I paused a beat. “I changed the sheets.”

He glanced toward the bedroom, as if measuring how far he could walk.

“In bed.” He swallowed. “And then we’ll talk.”

That simple concession had me zipping to the kitchen. Snowball meowed, and I took a second to open her carrier before I yanked the fridge open hard enough to rock it. Snowball took off for the bedroom, skidding around the corner on the hardwood. With a sixteen-ounce, napkin-wrapped glass filled with Florida OJ in hand, I followed her.

Saber had turned off the bedside lamp, but the Tiffany lamp in the bathroom cast a soft glow on the bed. He lay atop the sheets in the middle of my king bed, propped against the sand-colored padded headboard on two of my four king-sized pillows. He’d put a third pillow longway over his abdomen and lower chest, and that’s where Snowball was ensconced, purring as Saber petted her fur in long strokes.

The hems of his boxer shorts were visible below the pillow. Had he donned them so he’d somehow be less vulnerable?

I could relate.

“Here you go,” I said, keeping my voice neutral as I placed the crinkled napkin on the side table and handed him the glass.

“Thanks.”

I moved to my side of the bed by the double window. I paused to adjust the fall of the blackout curtains then settled cross-legged at the end of the mattress. And, yes, I tucked my nightshirt around my knees. Now was not the time to flash my darling.

Not that he would’ve noticed. He stared into his orange juice for a full minute before he spoke.

“What did I say in my sleep?”

The question came out low and steady, but a nuance in his voice sliced my skin like a cat scratch.

“You mentioned burns. You said to get out and run.”

He took a gulp of juice. Then another. I folded my hands. Waited.

“About twenty years ago, I tracked a vampire to a residence. He held a man, a woman, and two teenaged girls hostage, locked in the attic. It should have been easy to go in at first light, execute the vamp, and free the family.”

He sipped then put the glass on the napkin. I waited.

“I broke into the house, but the vampire wasn’t resting in the dark. He stood on the second-floor landing with a baseball in one hand. He said that I wouldn’t catch him. That he was going out in a blaze of glory. Then he opened the door to the attic stairs, and tossed the ball. The house exploded.”

A picture of Saber being blown into a wall flashed in my mind’s eye, his shirt peppered with burning debris, welts forming on his chest and arms. My stomach roiled, and I clenched my hands so tightly, my knuckles cracked.

“The vampire died, but so did the family. I learned later that the vamp had been Special Forces in Vietnam. His expertise was disarming and arming booby traps.”

I swallowed bile. “Saber, there was no way you could have known.”

“No, but this time, the dream was different. The vampire was in the house, but you were outside the back door being consumed by the Void. I lost the innocent family, and I lost you, too.”

“You’re not losing me, you hear?”

I unfolded my legs and crawled to him. I needed to touch him whether he wanted it or not. Thankfully, he lifted his arm so I could snuggle into his side.

“We’re not in this alone, Saber,” I said as I laid my hand over his heart. “We have allies, plus we have the VPA and the COA to ferret information from. We will kick ass and take names. We’ll come out of this alive and well.”

“Oh, yeah?” He put his other arm around me. “What happened to my little vampire pacifist?”

I tilted my head to meet his gaze. “She wants her normal afterlife back, and she’s mad enough to mow down anything in her way to get it.”

He smiled, just a quirk of his sexy mouth. “I love a take-charge woman.”

“Thank you.” I stretched up to give him a smacking, noisy kiss. “Now, what time do we get Lia at the airport?”

“She lands at four eighteen.”

“And it’s ten minutes to the airport. I’ll be up by three.” I slanted him a mock-stern glower. “
If
I get my beauty sleep.”

He brushed back my hair and sighed a kiss against my lips.

“Just let me hold you.”

 

 

I left Saber only twice, and only long enough to snag Triton’s clothes and my swimsuit from my car, and then to launder them with my cutoffs and tee and the sheets I’d stripped from the bed. Though I doubted that Saber would forget the incident any time soon, I didn’t want him to see—or smell—the sheets in the basket and be reminded of the nightmare.

When dawn broke, and Saber’s breathing had remained deep and even through the rest of the night, I allowed myself to relax and drift to sleep with Snowball curled between us.

At three on the dot Monday afternoon, I blinked awake. Saber was gone from the bed, of course, but I heard him in the kitchen. Whistling. Thank God. Maybe he didn’t have the nightmare hangover I’d feared he would.

What to wear to meet a sorceress? Let’s face it, I had a limited wardrobe in limited colors. Heck, before Maggie had chosen burgundy for the maid of honor dress, I’d seldom worn reds or pinks at all. Since then, I’d added more color variety, and sure, I owned a few dresses and a skirt or two. But shorts, capris, jeans, and various mix-and-match camis, blouses, and tees dominated my closet. And, eeks, I’d forgotten to take the sheets and Triton’s clothes out of the dryer.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and made the bed before heading for the laundry room. Saber half turned from the sink he was scrubbing as I entered the kitchen.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, yourself hot stuff. You feeling all right today?”

“I’m good. Oh, and I have your laundry on the steam cycle and a load of my clothes in the washer.”

He smiled, and though it didn’t quite chase all the shadows from his eyes, I let it ride.

I crossed to lay a big kiss on him. “Do you know what a keeper you are?”

“Glad you think so. I figure we’ll be slammed with training this week, so I got some chores taken care of.”

“Like what?”

“Look in the fridge.”

I did and saw four six-packs of Starbloods chilling in addition to the three bottles I already had. Saber had also restocked milk, bread, and lunchmeat for himself. I bet there was a new box of his favorite cereal in the cabinet, too.

“I went to the car wash. The Vue is cleaned and vacuumed.”

“You are a domestic god, my darling, and I am your slave.”

“Then I’ve got you where I want you.”

As I kissed him again, the dryer buzzed. I wore a huge smile of relief as I hung and folded my clothes, then put his in to dry. Saber showed no serious side effects from his nightmare or from sharing the truth behind his dream, and I was giddily grateful for those favors.

I heard his electric shaver going in the bathroom, so I slammed one of my caramel-macchiato flavored Starbloods then put away my clothes. I saved out the aqua capris, a white bra-top camisole, and an aqua shell embroidered with white dragonflies. White sandals would complete the outfit. Heck, I might go wild and carry the miniscule white purse Maggie had given me. Obviously, I paid zero attention to the no-white-after–Labor Day rule.

Just as obviously, I soon learned, Lia did.

As Saber and I peered out the regional airport waiting-area window, the French fashionista stepped off the chartered jet wearing a gold silk blouse, deep chocolate linen slacks, and black low-heeled pumps. Her auburn hair cut in a short, sassy style, Lia looked tanned, fit, and not a minute over forty as she rolled her monogrammed Louis Vuitton suitcase across the tarmac.

Wow. The sorceress business must pay better than Cosmil’s wizard gig, but geez. I had to get this woman into St. Augustine casual.

Lia breezed into the waiting area like she’d been here a thousand times.

“Ah, here you are,” she said, only a smidge of an accent lilting her speech. “Cesca and Saber, and aren’t you the perfect couple!”

I exchanged a grin with Saber then offered my hand in greeting. “We’re pleased to meet you, Lia. Did you have a good flight?”

“Not the mode of transportation I’m used to, but mortal innovations do have their uses.”

She waved her hand and pulled a cell phone from the air.

Saber laughed. “Let me take your bag. My car is right outside. We’ll have you settled in no time.”

“
Merci
, most kind, but before I forget, I want to give you my cell number.”

Saber and I whipped out our phones to add Lia to our contacts.

“And now, may I beg a favor?”

Saber held the terminal door open. “Yes?”

“On the way, might we stop for something called a MoonPie?”

We didn’t find moon pies at the nearest grocery store, not the original, trademarked brand or a knockoff, either. But en route, Lia informed us that she had phoned Cosmil from New York to get a status report and to arrange a tentative schedule.

“Since one of our group is unavailable tonight,” she said from the backseat where she’d insisted on sitting, “I suggested gathering only to dine tonight. I do not wish to drop from jet lag when there is so much to be accomplished. Cosmil and I, we will cast location spells to search for Starrack tomorrow and begin your training in the evening.”

“Do you have a restaurant in mind?” Saber asked.

“Cosmil suggested Saltwater Cowboy’s. Do you know it?”