Be Still My Vampire (15 page)

She’d been making love to a vampire.

“Oh God.” She turned away from the bed.

The light from the bedroom made it possible to see the office. The furnishings looked like valuable antiques. The couch where she’d sat was more like an old-fashioned chaise with one curved arm. A maroon chenille throw lay draped over the raised end. She wrapped it around her waist like a skirt.

She spotted a door and peered outside. The coast was clear. She stepped out and found herself on the top landing of the stairs.

“I’m not leaving here till I know she’s safe!” Sean’s booming voice echoed up the stairwell.

A man replied with a softer, calmer voice, but she couldn’t make out the words. It seemed fairly certain, though, that Sean had to be in the foyer. That was good, if it meant he’d not been allowed into the living room where her clothes were lying about. But it was also bad, because there was no way she could get down the stairs without him seeing her. Maybe Angus could teleport her out. But that still didn’t solve the problem with her clothes. With a silent groan, she padded back to the office.

A chiming noise came from the computer. E-mail.

Emma glanced back. She was alone. Of course, a vampire could teleport here in a second. She would have to be fast.

She rounded the desk and saw that a new message had arrived. The message was from Mikhail. The subject—E. Wallace’s parents.

Her heart stuttered. Her parents? She clicked the message open.

Still investigating the murders of E. Wallace’s parents. Attaching a list of all known Malcontents in Moscow during that summer.

Emma’s heart raced as she opened the attachment. A list of eighteen names appeared. She recognized only one name—Ivan Petrovsky, and he was already dead. Of the remaining seventeen, two had to be her parents’ murderers.

Seventeen vampires. Could she kill that many? Did she have any choice?

She clicked onPrint and straightened.

“Did ye find something useful?” Angus asked softly.

The fleeting look of guilt on Emma’s face did little to soothe the pain twisting in Angus’s gut. How could she? How could she writhe under his touch, scream with pleasure, then spy on him at the first chance?

As the whir of the printer started, Emma raised her chin defiantly. “This is information about my parents. You said you would share it with me.”

“Did a message arrive from my operative inMoscow ?”

“If you’re referring to Mikhail, yes.”

“Then apparently ye’re more up to date than I am.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? They’remy parents.”

“And that wasmy e-mail onmy computer.” He dropped her clothes and backpack on the red velvet chaise. “I hope ye have yer cell phone here somewhere.” It certainly hadn’t been on her body. He’d explored every inch of that.

“It’s in my backpack. Why?” She removed the paper from the printer.

He tamped down on the anger growing inside him. “Sean Whelan will be calling ye any second now. He’s downstairs and refuses to leave until he knows ye’re all right. He thinks I’m holding ye prisoner and torturing you.”

“Oh.” A light blush dusted her cheeks. The afghan around her waist loosened, and she dropped the paper on the desk to adjust her makeshift skirt. “What did you tell him?”

Angus gritted his teeth. She was so damned lovely when she blushed. “I lied. I told him I’d taken ye home.”

A jangling sound came from her backpack. She dashed around the desk to the chaise and unzipped her backpack. The phone continued its annoying musical phrase.

“Shit,” she muttered as she rummaged through the backpack. The afghan slipped just as she located her phone.

He caught the afghan around her hips.

“Thanks,” she breathed, then opened her phone. “Hello?”

Angus yanked the afghan off. Her mouth opened with indignation.

“Oh, hello, Sean,” she spoke into the phone while giving Angus an annoyed look.

He stepped back, dropped the afghan on the desk, and picked up the paper she’d printed.

“I’m fine.” She glowered at Angus. “Perfectly dandy.”

He leaned against the desk, examining the list of names Mikhail had sent. They were all Malcontents who had been inMoscow the summer Emma’s parents had been murdered. Angus wondered if he’d overreacted to her snooping. It was natural for her to be curious about her parents. How could she have resisted such a message?

He could hear Sean Whelan’s strident voice on the other end of Emma’s phone.

“No, he didn’t harm me.” She smoothed down the tail ends of her shirt as if to make sure all her private parts were covered. When she glanced up, Angus winked at her. She made a face and turned her back to him.

He cocked his head, admiring the sweet curve where her upper thighs met her rounded arse. A man didn’t need to be undead to want to sink his teeth into that glorious flesh.

“He took me home, using teleportation,” Emma continued to talk to Sean. “No, I’m fine. I felt a little woozy, but that’s all. And they took Garrett home, too. What happened to you?”

Angus winced as he heard Sean’s tirade on evil experiments, his victimized daughter, and the demon baby she would deliver in a few days.

Emma glanced back at Angus with a worried look. “I don’t know what to say, Sean. We can only hope for the best.”

She leaned over to examine the clothes Angus had deposited on the chaise. He tilted his head more to the side. What a view.

“There’s nothing more you can do right now.” She leaned over more. “I’m sure they’ll let you go. They let me go.”

Angus tilted more. Good God, he could see heaven.

“All right. Good-bye.” She closed her phone and dropped it in the backpack. “Sean says the Scotsman is escorting him to his car. But there’s another problem. I can’t find my underwear.” She glanced back, then straightened with a jerk.

Angus straightened.

Her cheeks blushed. She tugged at her shirttails. “Your eyes are red again.”

“I saw a vision.”

“You saw my ass. Where’s my underwear?”

“I saw a vision of beauty. I saw our future.”

A pained look crossed her face. “We have no future. You know that.”

He stepped toward her. “I know I promised to make ye scream several times, and I’m a man of my word.”

“I—I release you from that promise.”

“’Tis no’ what ye want.”

“We don’t always get what we want.” She snatched her pants up and began putting them on.

“What were ye going to do with this list? Were ye planning to kill all seventeen?”

She turned her back to him to zip up her pants. “If you want to help me, I’d appreciate it.”

“And if I doona help ye?”

She glanced at him, frowning. “I have to do it. My father’s last words to me wereAvenge us .”

“Then ye did witness the murders. That’s how ye knew about vampires.”

She sat on the chaise. “A part of me died that night with them.”

“Lass, revenge is no’ going to bring yer parents back.”

“It’s not revenge! It’s justice.”

He picked up the list of names. “I know most of these men. They’re the worst assassins in the vampire world.” She was trying to kill her grief with violence. He recognized the signs. He’d done it himself after his wife’s rejection.

Emma stuffed her feet into her shoes. “I’ve come too far to give up now. Everything I have done and learned for the past six years has led me to this moment.”

“Then it has all led you to me.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t believe in fate. We make our own choices in life.”

“And you have chosen to trust me. Please, Emma, doona go after these men. You doona need to slay every dragon in the world to prove yer love. Yer parents know ye love them.”

She looked away, clenching her fists.

“Let me find the two who are responsible.”

She met his eyes. “And then?”

“I’ll help you find the justice ye need. In the meantime, I’ll transfer two of my employees here and have them watch over Central Park.”

“I thought you and I were going to police the park.”

She actually looked disappointed. Would she miss him? “We will until my employees arrive. I canna stay here indefinitely. I have to find Casimir. He’s growing an evil army, and if there’s another war, many will die.”

He pushed away from the desk and strode toward her. “Imagine an army of over five hundred Malcontents, all feeding off mortals every night, then killing them because they know too much. ’Twill be a massacre.”

Her face paled. “Is that what happened with the first war?”

“Aye. The battle raged on for three nights. A dozen villages in Hungary were destroyed. A few mortals escaped, and their tales spawned some of the legends ye still hear today.”

“Stories of evil vampires?”

“Aye.” He sat on the chaise beside her. “That was long before synthetic blood. Both sides had to feed off humans. Both sides were killing. Although we tried never to kill mortals, we probably appeared as evil as the enemy.”

“If there’s another war, will you be the general?”

“Aye.”

She winced. “I hate to think of you in so much danger.”

“Hopefully, it willna come to that.”

“Do you want me to tell Sean about this? I could tell him that we talked before you took me home.”

“From what I’ve seen of yer boss, I doubt he’ll believe any of this.”

She sighed. “He hates vampires with a passion. I don’t know why.”

“Ye have cause to hate, too, but ye believe me.”

Smiling, she touched his cheek. “I like you too much.”

He took her hand and kissed the palm. There was no such thing as too much. He wanted it all. “Where shall I teleport you—yer apartment or Austin Erickson’s?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you know about Austin?”

“He works for me.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I thought he was constructing something in Malaysia.”

“He and his wife, Darcy, are in Eastern Europe, helping with the search for Casimir.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Austin married the vampire director of a reality show?”

“She’s no longer a Vamp.”

“She’s no longerdead ?”

“No longer undead. ’Tis a long story, but Roman was able to change her back.”

“You’re kidding! There’s a cure?” Emma gave him an incredulous look. “Why don’t more of you change back?”

He gritted his teeth. “Maybe some of us like being the way we are.”

“Oh.” She winced. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He arched a brow. “Being undead comes with some valuable talents. Being mortal does, too. I have quite a few mortals working for me. Ye have the advantage of daylight.”

“So Austin is still fighting vampires.”

“The bad ones, aye.” Angus tilted his head. “Ye could work for me. I’d hire ye in a second.”

Her mouth dropped open again. “You would hire me after I tried to kill you?”

“Somehow I was under the impression, while ye were climaxing in my arms, that ye’d gotten over yer ill feelings.”

Her cheeks tinted pink. “It is true that I no longer harbor any ill will toward you.”

“Yer kindness is overwhelming. But ye seemed downright happy when ye were shuddering and screaming in—”

“All right!” She held up a hand. “But that’s a very good reason why I shouldn’t work for you. People would suspect that we were a bit… involved, and that’s never—”

“A bitinvolved ?” He motioned toward the bedroom. “If Connor hadn’t returned with yer boss, we’d be in there right now, tupping like rabbits.”

She scoffed. “That’s not true.” She glanced at the bedroom. “I would have—I might have said no.”

“When?” He moved closer. “Would ye have said no after I had kissed every inch of yer beautiful body? Or would ye have waited till I made ye scream for a second or third time?”

She pressed her hands to her reddened cheeks. “Please. I—I can’t… ”

“What?” He held her by the shoulders.

She closed her eyes and whispered, “I can’t love you.”

The words slammed into him like a thunderbolt. He released her and moved back. His heart squeezed in his chest. The devil take it, he wanted her love. When the hell had that happened? She looked so miserable. Bugger. “I’m sorry. I’ll take ye home.”

She nodded, refusing to look at him.

He handed her the backpack. “Which apartment?”

“Mine.”

“I’ve teleported there before. I remember the way.” He stood next to her, his arms opening. “I have to hold you.”

“I understand.” She stood stiffly as he embraced her.

“Ye need to hold on.” Once she’d placed her hands on his shoulders, he closed his eyes and concentrated. When their bodies wavered, her fingers tensed and she clung to him.

In a few seconds, they arrived in her small living room. As soon as she was solid, she released him.

She dropped her backpack on the loveseat. “When will your men be able to guard Central Park?”

“In a night or two. Most of them are working undercover right now in Eastern Europe, so there’s a problem with the time difference and locating them. And I’ll have to do some shuffling around to make sure my clients are still protected.”

“Then tomorrow you and I will patrol the park?”

“Aye. But ye must understand, Emma, we canna kill the Malcontents at this time. It would only serve to push the vampire world into a war we doona want.”

She nodded. “All right. As long as the humans are protected. I’ll meet you at the stone bridge by the Pond at nine o’clock?”

“I’ll be there.” He extended his hand. “Allies?” He wanted to saylovers , but this would have to do for now.

She shook his hand briefly, then let go. “Allies.”

He was going to be late. Emma checked her watch once again. Two minutes till nine, and he was nowhere in sight. Granted her eyesight wasn’t nearly as good as his in the dark, moonlit surroundings ofCentral Park . She could always reach out to him psychically, but she really didn’t want him inside her head. He was already too much in her heart.

She leaned her elbows on the bridge’s stone wall and surveyed the area around the Pond. No men in kilts. He could be wearing trousers, though. The rascal looked equally gorgeous in both. Her gaze zeroed in on a young man in the distance, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. No, not Angus. There was no mistaking his broad shoulders and long auburn hair.

There was simply no one like him.

Her heart grew heavy. Why couldn’t he be human? Fifty years from now, he would have forgotten all about her. She’d be one of many humans who had come and gone, swept away like the dead leaves of autumn. God help her, she wanted to be different. She wanted to be special to him. She wanted to be loved.

Her heart sank lower. Why couldn’t she be attracted to a normal guy? Ha! Who on earth would be attracted to a normal guy when Angus was around? His old-fashioned sense of honor and gentlemanly behavior touched her heart. He was the hero of a young girl’s fantasies. Strong, brave, dependable, intelligent. But he was also a grown woman’s fantasy—sexy, aggressive, and a little bit dangerous. How could she resist such a man?

“Good evening.”

She turned with a gasp. “I didn’t see you coming.”

“Ye were deep in thought.”

Thinking about him. Thank God she could block her mind from him. Even so, she realized the warmth invading her cheeks betrayed her innermost thoughts. Angus looked gorgeous as usual. He was wearing the blue and green plaid kilt. His hunter-green socks matched his sweater. The hilt of a knife showed above his right sock. The leather straps crossing his chest could only mean his claymore was on his back.

She cleared her throat. “You came prepared.”

“As did you.”

“Yes.” She hitched her bag of stakes higher on her shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

He smiled slowly.

Too gorgeous. A feeling of awkwardness nettled her.

“Shall we?” He extended his hand.

Did he expect her to hold his hand? Or was he merely motioning for her to start walking? Too awkward. She headed north, leaving the bridge behind. He strolled beside her. Close beside her. For a big man, he moved very quietly. She adjusted her bag to hear the comforting rattle of stakes break the silence.

Why was he being so quiet? She tried to think of something normal to talk about. “So, do you always wear the same plaid?”

“’Tis the MacKay tartan. Ye doona like my kilts?”

“Oh, I do. I just wondered if you had more than one.” She winced. Brilliant. Why not insult the man? “I mean, more than one style.”

He smiled. “I have actually acquired quite a few clothes over the centuries.”

Several centuries of fashion stuffed into one closet? It was mind-boggling. “You mean you still have wigs and waistcoats and lacy shirts?”

“Aye. Stashed away somewhere in my castle.”

Her mouth dropped open. Hiscastle ? Good heavens, how could anyone have a normal conversation with Angus MacKay? He was… fascinating.

His hand brushed against hers as they walked.

She thought about moving a bit to the right, out of his reach, but she didn’t. It would be too obvious and more… awkward. “You’ll be able to hear an attack anywhere in the park?”

“Aye. Just to be safe, I asked Connor to patrol the northern half.”

“That’s good. We’ll have backup, if we need it.”

“Aye.” His hand lingered close to hers.

Her heart beat faster. “It seems odd that we just met last Friday night.”

“Aye.” He entwined his fingers with hers.

Her heart swelled with longing. “This is only our fifth night together.”

“When ye’ve lived as long as I have, ye realize how relative time is. I’ve endured centuries that passed in the blink of an eye as if I were barely breathing.” He stopped and faced her. “Or I can experience an entire lifetime in the span of a few nights. All the hope and passion that makes life worth living, ’tis suddenly surrounding me like a gift from God.”

“Oh, Angus.” Then shewas different. Shewas special.

“We canna deny what is happening to us, Emma.”

She released his hand. “I don’t deny it. But we also can’t deny that there’s no chance for us.”

“Emma—”

“No.” She held up a hand. “I don’t want to be one of a long line of human girlfriends. I—I feel special to you right now, just as I am. And I need to leave it that way. I want to be able to say good-bye when you go with my heart still full. Not drained and desolate. Can you understand?”

“Nay. For one thing, ye’re assuming a sad ending.”

“How could it possibly be anything else but sad? We’re from two different worlds.”

He frowned. “We’re more alike than ye think. And there has never been a long line of mortal girlfriends.”

“You fed off human women for centuries. You told me you left them all very satisfied. That sounds like a long line of lovers to me.”

“That was survival. That was me giving back to faceless women I canna remember, so I wouldna feel guilty for stealing their blood. Yeare different, Emma. I doona need ye in order to survive. But surviving is no’ the same as living. Or the same as feeling human again. I am alive when I’m with you. Ye feed my soul.”

She stared at him, unblinking. Good heavens, what could she say to this?Take me, I’m yours?

He turned his head to the side. “I heard a scream.”

She listened carefully, but heard nothing.

“This way.” He motioned for her to follow.

She jogged alongside him, going north. “I don’t hear anything.”

“They’ll have control of their victim by now. There will be no more screams.” After several minutes, he halted. “We’re close now,” he whispered. “Yer stakes are making noise.”

She removed the bag from her shoulder and wrapped the stakes tightly together. “Better?” She cradled them against her chest.

He nodded and placed a finger to his lips. She followed him quietly as he left the brick pathway and headed through a grove of trees. The moonlight barely pierced through the canopy of budding leaves overhead. The air grew more chill. Angus became a large shadow that she trailed closely. A breeze ruffled the leaves and brought the sound of a male voice.

“Hey, man, leave some for me.”

Emma’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. Angus was moving very slowly now. She glanced around nervously, hoping all the dark shapes around them were only trees.

“Shit, what are you doing?” the same voice complained loudly. “That’s no way to treat a woman. I wouldn’t treat a ho like that.”

“Quiet, you fool,” another voice hissed.

“Hey, feeding is one thing, but you’re killing her. That just ain’t right.”

Angus drew Emma alongside him so she could see the clearing in front of them. Moonlight gleamed off a huge granite boulder, tinting the clearing with ghostly shades of gray. A male vampire, dressed in black, had a woman pinned to the ground. She looked silvery pale in the moonlight. Her eyes were black and glassy. The only color was the red blood oozing from twin punctures on her neck.

A second vampire, a black man dressed in torn blue jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt, paced nervously close by. “Shit, man. I hate this.”

The first vampire sank his fangs into the woman’s neck once again. Emma flinched. The woman would never survive a second bite. Angus held her arm to keep her from moving forward.

“Cut it out, bro!” The black vampire jumped about, trying to get the other vampire’s attention. “You’re sucking her dry. She’s gonna die!”

In a flash, Angus zoomed into the clearing, drawing his claymore. He pricked the first vampire in the neck. “Release her.”

Emma flipped her bag open and retrieved a stake.

“What the hell?” The black vampire moved away.

Emma jumped into the clearing and blocked his escape. She pointed her stake at his heart. “Stay right where you are.”

“Shit.” The black vampire stared at her, then at Angus. “Who the hell are you?”

The first vampire rose slowly to his feet. Blood dripped from his distended fangs. He backed away, but Angus followed him, his sword aimed at the evil vampire’s heart.

“This park is under my protection,” Angus growled. “Ye will do no more killing here.”

“I remember you,” the evil vampire spoke with a Russian accent. “You were at the ball last year at Romatech. You crushed Ivan’s watch. You’re Angus MacKay.”

“So now you’re following orders from Katya?” Angus asked softly. “Did she ask you to kill for her?”

“I would do anything for her.”

“Then tell her this,Alek .” When the vampire flinched, Angus continued, “Aye, I know who ye are. Ye were an errand boy for Ivan Petrovsky, and now ye’re doing Katya’s dirty work.”

Emma glanced at the injured woman. How long were these guys going to chat while she lay there bleeding to death? “I’ll call an ambulance.”

Alek gasped when he looked at her. “You! You’re the one I saw before. You killed Vladimir.”

Emma swallowed hard. This was the vampire who had gotten away last summer. The only one who knew who she was.

“I was right.” Alek glared at her. “The slayer is a mortal woman.” He glanced at Angus. “But you’re helping her, aren’t you?”

“Angus.” Emma gave him a pleading look. If this vampire lived, he would tell all the Malcontents that she and Angus were working together.

He charged at Alek, but just before his sword could make contact, Alek vanished.

“Nay!” Angus’s sword impaled a tree. “The devil take it.” He ripped his sword loose.

“Damn,” the black vampire muttered. “Who are you guys? The vampire po-po?”

Angus strode toward the black vampire, scowling. “Doona move.”

The vampire raised his hands in surrender. “You da man. I don’t mess with no brother with a three-foot blade.”

While Angus pointed his claymore at the black vampire’s heart, Emma rushed to the injured woman. “She’s dying. We have to help her.”

“I’ve called Connor mentally. He should be here—” Angus stopped when Connor appeared beside him.

Connor quickly surveyed the scene. His eyes flashed with anger when he saw the injured woman. He glowered at the black vampire. “Ye bastard, I should throttle you.”

“I didn’t do it!” the black vampire shouted. “I know, I know, I always tell the po-po I didn’t do it, but this time I really mean it. I didn’t get a drop out of her. I’m still starving.” He glanced at Emma with a speculative look.

She glared back. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Connor, can ye take the woman to Romatech?” Angus asked. “Roman can save her. Then ye can remove her memory and take her home.”

“Will do.” Connor gathered the woman in his arms, then vanished.

“Where’s everybody going?” the black vampire asked.

“Who are you?” Angus stepped toward him.

He backed up. “I’ll be a damned shish kebab if you come any closer with that super-sized switchblade. I’ve already died once this week, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

“Ye were transformed this last week?”

“Yeah. That psycho Russian dude did it to me. I was minding my own business, and business was good, if you know what I mean. I had a fine reputation. I had it going on. Then that son of a bitch Alek came along—”

“You were selling drugs?” Emma moved toward him.

“Now, ain’t that just the way?” The black vampire frowned at her. “Just because I’m a brother, you assume I’m trafficking.”

“Were you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “A man’s gotta make a living. Look, girlfriend, I ain’t got nothing against you, but I’m starvin’, and you’re smelling really sweet.”

“Touch her and ye die,” Angus growled.

“Whoa, bro.” He lifted both hands in surrender. “I didn’t realize you were, uh, interested in those of a female persuasion, what with that skirt you’re wearing and—”

“Enough.” Angus slid his claymore back into its sheath. “Drink this.” He opened his sporran and removed his flask.

“Nice purse,” the black vampire muttered. “I know a guy who can get you a designer one real cheap.”

Angus gritted his teeth. “’Tis no’ a purse!”

“Whatever you say, man.” The black vampire accepted the flask. “This ain’t no poison, is it? You know, that’s why those bastards killed me. They’re making some kind of vampire poison.”

“’Tis safe. Drink,” Angus ordered.

“Vampire poison?” Emma asked.

“Nightshade,” Angus muttered.

“Yeah, that’s what they called it.” The vampire sniffed at the contents of the flask. “Whoa! This smells good. What is this shit?”

“Blissky. A mixture of synthetic blood and Scotch whisky.”

Ah. Now Emma understood why she’d smelled whisky on Angus’s breath that first night. She waited for the black vampire to finish his drink.

And waited. She glanced at Angus.

His mouth twitched. “Apparently, our guest is verra hungry.”

“Oo-wee!” The black vampire wiped his mouth. “That’s some good shit.” He upended the flask again, but it was empty. “You got any more of this?”

“We have dozens of bottles at home,” Angus answered. “And we can get more whenever we like.”

“No shit? You know, those damned Russians don’t have anything to eat at their house. They go out every freaking night to attack people. I told them they should be attacking the local blood bank, you know, and storing up some snacks at their crib, but would they listen to me? No.”

“You doona wish to harm people?”

“Hell, no. I ain’t no killer.” He winked at Emma. “I’m more of a lover, you understand.”

“You’re not exactly a law-abiding citizen,” Emma reminded him.

“I gotta make a living. I—I have people depending on me.”

“What is yer name?” Angus asked.

“Phineas McKinney.”

“McKinney?”

Phineas shrugged. “The brothers used to call me Master Phin.” He raised his chin defiantly. “Now I wish to be called Dr. Phang.”

Angus arched a brow.

Emma dropped her stake back into her bag. “Why would the Russians transform you?”