Blood Born (18 page)

“Why don’t you come by the house after work?” Chloe asked.

“I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“We can crash in the living room and catch a movie on TV. I know I need to sleep, but I’m not sure I can.”

“Still shaken from last night?”

Chloe nodded. She didn’t have to explain to Valerie exactly why she didn’t want to be alone. They were good enough friends that they were there for each other, no questions asked … not many, anyway.

Valerie followed Chloe home and parked behind her. Walking from her car to the door without sprinting was difficult for Chloe. Last night the big bald man had come out of nowhere, and there were a lot of shadows in and around her small front yard. All day long the memory had been vague, as if it had been in a movie she’d seen, but tonight, taking that same walk, it all came back. She didn’t breathe deeply until she was inside the house, with Valerie, with the door locked behind them.

They talked about work for a while, watched a movie on TV, ate microwave popcorn, and drank too much diet soda. Chloe didn’t want to talk about Luca, and fortunately Valerie didn’t mention his visit to the restaurant. Odd for Valerie, but maybe she sensed that Chloe didn’t want to go there.

Since the movie wasn’t very good they talked more than they watched. They made fun of the movie and
laughed a lot. It was a laid-back evening, relaxed and very nice. There were no disembodied voices, not with Valerie in the house.

Unfortunately that couldn’t last forever, and Chloe was aware that sooner or later her respite would end. Valerie wasn’t going to move in; she wasn’t going to give up sleeping in her own bed to crash on Chloe’s couch, not even for one night. The movie ended, Valerie started to yawn, and finally the moment came. She had to go home.

Chloe stood in the open doorway and watched Valerie make her way to her car. She held the can of pepper spray in her hand, just in case the bald freak jumped out of nowhere. Valerie was right; she should’ve called the police, but it was too late now. They’d think she was nuts if she called to report something that had happened more than twenty-four hours ago. What could they do at this point? Nothing.

Tonight all was quiet. Of course, last night had been quiet, too, until the psycho had jumped her. Chloe didn’t rest easy until Valerie was in her car, the engine revved, and she was driving away on the otherwise deserted street.

She was still standing in the doorway when the voice whispered in her ear.
Don’t deny me
.

Chloe jumped, startled into a shriek. Her heart thudded in her chest, so hard and strong she could feel it. She didn’t know if she wanted to run into the yard to escape the voice, or slam the door, sink to the floor, and scream at the top of her lungs. The yard won. Bald mugger/rapist and all, the yard won. She’d rather face something that was real instead of the gremlins in her own head. Gripping the can of pepper spray in her hand, Chloe ran across the porch, down the steps, into the grassy yard. There she dropped to her knees and wallowed in blessed silence.

How long would it last? In the beginning she’d only heard the voice in her dreams, and then in that half-asleep state between dreams and reality. Now it came when she was wide awake in her own home, but when she was away from the house she was safe from it. How long did she have before the voice began to follow her outside? To work? How long before the voice was so much a part of her she could no longer tell where reality ended and insanity began?

Out of the corner of her eye she caught some movement, darkness against darkness. Another wave of panic washed over her, along with a sense of outrage. What, she wasn’t safe either inside or outside? That wasn’t fair.
Pick one
, she wanted to shout at the Fates, or whatever was behind all of this.

She was too vulnerable in her kneeling position; she lunged to her feet, her finger resting firmly against the trigger of the pepper spray canister as she shakily backed toward the porch, ready to defend herself. “Stop right there,” she ordered the shadow. “Or I’ll fry your eyeballs.”

The shadow moved again, stepped out of the darkness beside her house into the light, and everything in her relaxed as if her moment of panic had never been. “Luca, it’s you.” She remembered Valerie’s theory that he and the big guy might have been in cahoots to rob her, and her gaze scanned the yard behind him. She couldn’t see anyone else, though. She looked back at him. “What are you doing here?”

He had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed. “I’m restless at night. I don’t sleep much, so I thought I’d just walk by and make sure everything was all right here.”

“You live nearby?”

He jerked a thumb to the east and nodded. “I haven’t been here very long. I’m still learning the neighborhood.”

If he’d recently moved to the neighborhood, it was logical that she hadn’t seen him before, given her odd hours. That also explained how he had happened by last night.

Disjointed thoughts raced through her mind. She didn’t want to be alone. Valerie wasn’t coming back, not tonight. Which was worse, to take the chance that a man she’d just met wasn’t a psycho? Or take a chance—
no, know without doubt
—that if she went back inside alone the voice would torment her?

She was tired of being tormented. She was tired of the voice, of doubting her own sanity. The simple truth was that if Luca had wanted to hurt her, last night or tonight, he could have. Her pepper spray might slow him down, but it wouldn’t stop him.

And still, she didn’t run for the door. She simply couldn’t make herself go back inside, alone. “It’s usually a quiet neighborhood.”

“Still worried about the man who attacked you last night?” he asked, watching her closely.

“Duh.”

He smiled at her response. That smile was very nice, almost mesmerizing. “The guy was drunk. From what little he said, I believe he thought you were an ex-girlfriend. But he won’t be bothering you again. I, uh, made sure he got the point.”

“That’s good to hear. Thank you again. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you were there. At any rate, I’ll definitely be looking over my shoulder for a while.”

“He made you jumpy.”

Chloe nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Luca came closer, but he moved slowly and there was still a decent distance between them. His voice was soothing, “If I could make the memory go away, would you want me to?”

Chloe actually smiled, a little. “I guess that would be
nice, if it was possible, but then if he did come back I wouldn’t be prepared.”

“Are you prepared now?”

“Maybe. Definitely more aware of what’s going on around me.”

Luca seemed a little distracted. He wasn’t obvious about it, but she got the distinct impression that he was giving her only half his attention, that his mind was elsewhere. He seemed to be listening, though she had no idea for what. Then he looked back at her, the focus of his gaze sharpening. “You should go inside, where you’ll be safe.”

She felt an odd compulsion to do what he said, but knowing she would hear that voice again made her resist. “Is it really safe? I mean, no matter how many locks I have on the door, if someone wants in they’re going to find a way.”

“Your home is safe,” he said, still in that soothing, convincing voice.

But to Chloe, being alone in the house was far removed from safety. Alone … when she was alone anything was possible.

“Would you like to come in for a cup of decaf?”

Luca was obviously surprised by the invitation. So was she, to be honest. Though her instincts told her he wasn’t a danger, could she trust her instincts when her world was being turned upside down?

“Just for coffee,” she added. “I’m not …”
That kind of girl. Desperate. After your body—well, not much
.

“I’d love a cup of coffee,” Luca answered before she could fill in the blank.

She was nervous, twitchy. Maybe she didn’t invite men into her home very often; maybe whatever it was that was different about her let her sense his otherness. Luca watched Chloe carefully as she prepared a pot of decaffeinated coffee, trying to get a read on her. He kept getting distracted, though, by the little glances she’d throw his way, glances that weren’t full of surprise as if he’d suddenly appeared out of thin air. He had learned to handle the surprise; it was the lack of it that was jolting.

So this was what it was like for everyone else. He had always circled on the periphery of life, watching, participating, but always unconnected in the most basic of ways because for most people he simply didn’t exist beyond the moment. For Chloe, he existed. With Chloe, there was a connection, whether he wanted it or not. He hadn’t made up his mind yet if he was dizzy with joy or if what he felt was panic and he should be running for the hills.

No, no way was he leaving until he discovered who was responsible for Hector’s murder. That was his first priority, and for that he needed Chloe. Afterward … maybe then he would devote some time to studying her.

Good thing he’d learned to appreciate the taste of
coffee, he thought as he watched her open a cabinet door and select two mugs from a huge selection. Why did one woman, living alone, need so many coffee mugs? Evidently she drank a lot of the stuff.

A long time ago he’d learned to eat and drink without letting his aversion to human food show; it was part of blending into the woodwork, part of existing in a world that was not welcoming to his kind, like walking slowly instead of moving at vampire speed, and smiling at inane jokes. Eventually, though, some of the tastes had grown on him, and coffee was one he sincerely enjoyed. And hell, it might as well be decaf, because caffeine had no effect on him.

No vampire had been waiting when she came home—no vampire other than himself. He wondered if it meant anything, that no attempt had been made on her life tonight. Would the rebels assume Enoch had carried out his assignment and simply not check to verify whether or not Chloe was dead?

If they did, that was piss-poor strategy. He himself would have verified as a normal course of action, so he had to assume that whoever in the rebel faction was in charge of eliminating the conduits would at least send someone to verify that Enoch had accomplished his mission. Tomorrow, surely.

He couldn’t hang around forever, Luca thought, but he might have to give it a month at the very least, even though that wouldn’t be easy, especially since she remembered him. Each time he had that thought, the shock of it was like a punch to the gut; damn, that complicated things.

He couldn’t spend all night, every night, in the street outside her house. Other humans wouldn’t remember him but she definitely would. He couldn’t saunter by her house every night and hope she’d ask him in for coffee, or conceal himself nearby and wait, listen for
her screams, assuming she’d have time to make a sound. He hadn’t romanced a human in centuries, but it was possible he’d have to either befriend or romance Chloe.

Cautiously, because she was so jumpy and uncertain.

Luca hadn’t interacted much with humans—other than as food sources with a relatively short shelf life—in hundreds of years. He no longer tried to blend in. He didn’t surround himself with human servants, lovers, or playthings, mainly because it was so much damn
work
when they didn’t remember they were supposed to be lovers and playthings. He fed on them, and then he was forgotten. Simple.

He wasn’t sure he even remembered how to seduce a human. They were much less direct in their physical dealings than those of his kind were. Women in particular clung to outdated romantic notions of love and forever, when in fact love was a pretty word for physical attraction, and humans had no real concept of forever.

He switched his attention to Chloe as she brought the two mugs of coffee to the small kitchen table. “Sugar? Cream?” she asked as she set them down.

“No, thanks.”

She added both to hers, then sat down directly across from him, and took a sip. Studying her objectively, he could see that Chloe Fallon was an attractive human. Her hair was one of her best features. It was soft, feathery, and golden, falling almost to her shoulders with oddly cut sections that framed her face and swayed when she moved. That face was very pretty, with even features, a nice mouth, and somewhat innocent brown eyes, eyes that carried an expression he couldn’t quite read. Wariness? Fear? Of
him
or of something else? She was definitely spooked.

Was she still shaken by Enoch’s attempt on her life? Luca had soothed her fears last night, so they shouldn’t
have resurfaced. The only other explanation was that his own presence disturbed her even though she had invited him into her home. Then he caught her looking at his throat—not in the same way he would admire hers, given the chance—before she too quickly glanced away and took a sip of her coffee.

That was easy enough to read, and he almost smiled. Though it had been a long time since he’d bothered with a human, he suspected she’d be easy enough to seduce. If that’s what it took to stay close, it would hardly be a chore. In fact, it would be a downright pleasure. There was always the option of glamouring her into compliance, but where was the fun in that? Besides, anything beyond a moment’s simple glamour might damage her mind. Humans were so fragile there was always that possibility. There was no need to leave Chloe in worse shape than he’d found her.

On the other hand, his glamour hadn’t exactly worked on her the way it should have, because she still remembered the attack. It should have been completely gone from her mind; she should have remembered having a normal, uneventful night, and nothing else. He was either losing his touch, which brought up the horrifying possibility that his skills and powers were deteriorating—something unknown in the vampire world, because vampires were the opposite of humans, becoming more and more powerful as they aged instead of weaker and weaker—or she was somehow immune to glamouring. He had to find out, because the answer, no matter which answer it was, affected everything. If he was deteriorating, he needed to know. He didn’t think he was, because his powers still worked on everyone else, and he felt completely normal, but this wasn’t something he’d take on faith.