Destiny United

Marcelo elbowed his way through the crowded bar, growing
more irritated with each step. Music assaulted his ears, vibrating painfully
through his skull. He choked on the thick scent of tobacco, alcohol, and sex.
Not good sex, but cheap, dirty sex. At least there were plenty of shadows for a
vampire to fade into.

While walking to the counter he’d been bumped twice by
drunk adolescents. One particularly rowdy juvenile spilled his drink on
Marcelo’s boots. He loved these boots. His queen owed him for this “small
favor.” The next drunk frat boy that got within a foot of Marcelo would be
growled at, fiercely.

One bold woman offered to buy him a drink.
Interesting,
he mused. It didn’t happen often,
although he’d been told he was terrifyingly handsome. But Marcelo wasn’t there
to drink or pick up women. Actually, that wasn’t quite true. He was there to
pick up one very specific woman.

He turned on his phone and studied the picture his queen
had sent of her sister one more time, although he’d already committed it to
memory. Erin Bolton. His hunt had landed him at a small liberal arts college in
Albany, NY. He chuckled remembering the look on the students’ faces when he’d
demanded to know Erin’s whereabouts. Sometimes it was good to be a vampire
.

Hunting the girl had been the easy part. The next step
would require a certain amount of finesse this battle-scarred vampire did not
possess. He had to convince Erin to trust him, and then escort her to the
Underworld.

He stared out into the sea of faces.

At the other end of the packed room, a woman jumped onto
a table and yelled, “Let’s get some karaoke going!” Cheers erupted around her
as she waved her hands in the air. Marcelo shook his head in disapproval. Date
rape bait.

His mind drifted to the conversation he’d had with Sage,
the Queen of the Underworld.
“Five days,”
she
had said,
“and I’ll meet you by the portal in Wales.”
This was only day two.
“Oh, and Marcelo, be gentle with
her. She’s timid.”

Then what the hell was she doing in a bar like this?

With an aggravated sigh, he scanned the crowd for her
again. More noise came from the table where the same girl was singing about
putting a dime in a jukebox and loving rock and roll. He rolled his eyes. He
remembered when music used to be good.

His gaze made its way up the girl’s body.
Might as well get a good look since she insists on displaying
herself.
She wore brown leather cowboy boots, her slender calves
changing to shapely thighs. Her short denim shorts were ripped up on the bottom
and cut off at the perfect spot just below where the thigh met the buttocks.
Her shirt was an almost see-through white billowy blouse covered with a brown
leather vest. On top of her head was a matching brown cowboy hat. This girl,
whoever she was, had sexy down to a science. No wonder the men were drooling
over her.

Honey colored hair flowed down her back in loose curls as
she shook all the right parts at all the right times. Her hair wisped wildly
around her sweaty face. She threw her cowboy hat to a tall boy cheering loudly
in the back then spun around giving Marcelo a full view of her face. Big brown
eyes looked out into the crowd – eyes that looked oddly familiar.

Bloody hell!

Marcelo flipped to the photo on his phone again. He held
up his phone next to the girl dancing provocatively on the bar table. It was
the same girl though the phone displayed a much more innocent version with a
bright smile. The sister he’d been sent to retrieve was drunk and dancing half
naked on a table. And Sage had called her timid?

He took several determined steps forward, hurrying to
finish this inconvenient side trip. Before he made it half way through the
crowd, one distinctive word echoed above the noise around him.

“Fight!”

Oh shit.
A glass bottle
broke then the crowd turned vicious. Alcohol did that to hormonal adolescents,
which was why he hated it – alcohol
and
adolescents.

Of course anyone who dared bump into Marcelo was thrown
aside, but he feared for the girl. He’d made a promise to Sage to protect her
sister, a job he took seriously. When he looked up at Erin, still on the table,
it was just in time to see a beer bottle launched straight into her head. Shock
filled her eyes as she staggered backwards. Marcelo shoved his way towards the
table. He caught her when she tumbled off the ledge then cradled her against
his chest. Up close, the girl was smaller than he’d thought. She weighed close
to nothing.

He strode towards the exit with Erin hanging limply in
his arms. The crowd parted once he slapped on his “get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way
face”. He’d expected someone to fight him, or at least question him. He was a dangerous
looking man carrying away a beautiful woman. But no one approached him. Was
this woman here alone? Dressed like bait? Drunk with no one to watch over her?

He was irritated before but now he was downright fuming.
He’d never been so glad to step out into the warm summer air. It wasn’t exactly
fresh air, but it was enough to soothe his anger. The last thing he needed was
for the human to wake up and see fangs poking out from under his lips.

After he checked over both shoulders to be sure he wasn’t
followed, he turned down an empty alley. In Marcelo’s world you didn’t stay
alive for long without being paranoid. Closing his eyes he concentrated on his
intended location, a hotel room he’d reserved several blocks from where they
stood.

Nothing happened. Puzzled, he tried again.

Still nothing. He stood in the piss and garbage filled
alley, holding the unconscious girl in his arms, confused and growing angrier
by the second. He’d never been unable to
traverse
before. So far Marcelo
was the only vampire he knew that could
traverse
– or teleport, as his queen called it – to any place he’d previously been. This
ability was the
only
reason he’d agreed to perform this “small favor” in
the first place. Traveling the mortal way held no appeal, especially toting a
very breakable, easily killable, drunk-on-her-ass human.

After trying three more times, he gave up with an exhausted
sigh. Yes, he and his queen would be having a talk soon. He carried Erin the
four blocks to the hotel, receiving plenty of odd stares, but still no one questioned
him. When he reached the generic hotel room he gently laid the girl on the bed.

Scrubbing a hand over his unshaven face he stared at the
body stretched out before him. Now what? Should he undress her to make her more
comfortable for bed? Someone ought to smack him for that thought. If she woke
up in a hotel room next to a stranger with nothing on but a bra and panties,
she would surely have a fit. As it was, he expected some sort of panic when she
awoke. Hopefully she had more sense than her sister and wouldn’t try anything
foolish like attempting to fight him.

He brushed her hair away from her face to inspect the
wound at her temple. He’d need to get ice when she awoke, but it didn’t look
like a serious injury. Most likely she was passed out more from being drunk than
from being hit. He combed his fingers through her hair; it was silky like
Natalia’s. The small reminder made his heart heavy. How he missed her. But the
similarities stopped there. Natalia had pale porcelain skin. Erin’s was a shade
darker, almost matching her honey colored hair. She had unimaginably long thick
lashes that spread delicately over her skin. As he looked her over, he realized
everything about her was delicate. She was so fragile. So human. So mortal. Yet
she’d ventured out, barely dressed, to a rowdy bar with no one to look after
her? So foolish! He growled with an odd sense of protectiveness. It wasn’t his
place but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from giving her a stern lecture
about her disregard for safety once she awoke.

Her fingers were long and thin, but he could see the tips
of her fingernails were chewed off. A nail biter. Nasty habit. His gaze moved
down her body and rested on her boots.
Might as well
take them off.
Two reasons. One, it might be more comfortable for her to
sleep. But more importantly, it would keep her from running. He tossed the
boots under the bed.

How long would she remain unconscious? He wanted to feed
but wouldn’t risk leaving her alone. He suppressed the urge to shake her awake,
command her to stay put, then go in search of a woman to feed from. But Marcelo
knew from experience, human women did not like being ordered around by men. His
queen had taught him that when she had tried to kill him only a few months ago.
And all because he’d forced her to drink blood and steal the throne from her
twisted father. Women were so temperamental.

With that in mind, Marcelo settled himself onto the bed
and plotted the next place he would resume his hunt for Natalia.

Two hours later, the body next to his began to stir. A
soft moan broke free from her lips.

When her eyelids fluttered open, he sat up straight and
said, “Be careful. You were hit hard. I’ll get some ice as soon as –”

Her eyes were pools of terror. “Be calm, female. I mean
you no harm.” He put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

Before he could reassure her with an explanation about
Sage, she flew off the bed and bolted into the bathroom, where she slammed and
locked the door. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t threaten him, she didn’t even
scream. He was glad he’d grabbed her boots. She was a runner.

Marcelo walked to the bathroom door, chuckling a bit
about the lock. A steel door couldn’t stop him from getting through it. Not
unless it was silver. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her
further.

He knocked. “Come out of there. We need to talk.” He
waited for a response. Nothing. Feeling a flicker of frustration he barely
stopped himself from twisting the doorknob and barging in.
Patience, Marcelo
. She needed reassurance, not a brute
showing of strength. “Your sister, Sage, sent me to see you to safety.”

Still no response. “Please, open the door. I will not
hurt you.” He could hear her heart racing with fear. But there was a chance she
could have a concussion. Rather than waiting until it was too late, he took a
deep breath and twisted the doorknob, breaking through the lock. If she was
scared and mad, so be it. Safety came first.

As soon as he stepped a foot through the bathroom door, a
glass vase whizzed towards his head. He barely dodged it before it thudded onto
the carpeted bedroom floor.

For fuck’s sake. Timid my ass!

Erin stood in the corner, a bottle of sample shampoo clenched
in her fist. He gave her his sternest expression. “Don’t do that again.”

She dropped the bottle and started gasping, dragging air
into her lungs as if it were suddenly difficult. Her body slumped to the floor
like a sack of potatoes.
Mierda!
She was
hyperventilating. He rushed to her side, kneeling on the bathroom floor. She
flinched away from him.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded. Her wide eyes darted
around the room as if she were searching for invisible threats. No, not looking
for threats. Marcelo was the threat. She was looking for an escape.

With a deep breath he softened his voice and tried to
tone down the feral look in his eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you. But I am not
going to hurt you. You can trust me.” The shallow breathing continued. She
looked like she was going to faint any second.
At least
she’d be easier to deal with.
He mentally kicked himself.
That’s just not right.

“Will you not speak to me?” he asked the girl.

She didn’t respond.

“Do you need medical care? Should I take you to the
hospital?”

She shook her head so hard he thought he heard it pop.

“Then calm down so we can talk.” When she continued to
gulp air, he added, “Female, I will have no choice but to take you to the
hospital if you do not calm down.” A tear slid down one cheek as she covered
her mouth with trembling hands. “Aw, hell. Don’t cry.”

“Go…away,” she said between gasping breaths. “Or…my
boyfriend…will…kill you.”

He repressed the urge to laugh out loud at the ridiculous
threat. Instead he pressed his lips into a grim line. “I’m sorry, I can’t go
away. Sage sent me to protect you. I’ll bring you to her as soon as possible but
we need to get a few things straightened out first.”

Her breathing quickened, growing louder and more labored with
each one. Seeing no other alternative, he dialed Sage’s number then thrust the
phone into Erin’s shaking hands.

“Do you have her? Is she safe?”
Sage’s voice rang
clear on the other end. She must have heard the heavy breathing because she
said,
“Erin? Is that you?”

Erin inhaled sharply. “Yes...” Another gasp then she
tried to form a sentence. “Who…who…what…”