Lizzy Ford (8 page)

Chapter Three

California sunlight and an ocean breeze streamed in through open windows of Xander’s spacious condo. The floors were pale stone, the walls something called
latte,
the furniture in light woods and cream, highlighted by teal and lemon pillows and tasteful throws.

Definitely not him. Ingrid hired an interior decorator when he leased the condo a few months ago. The brightness of every room made his sensitive eyes squint. He almost fired Ingrid that day for the bright colors, until he saw the master bedroom.

It was sensual, dark and cool: black walls and obsidian wood flooring covered by jewel-toned rugs, mahogany California King bed with the finest maroon silk sheets and a dark gray comforter so soft, it was like sleeping in a cloud. Even the scent of the room was a dark mix of oak and amber. The room was never fully illuminated by the red lights embedded in the ceiling.

It was
him
from ceiling to floor.

His sensitive ears picked up the sound of the television coming from the living room, but it wasn’t this that woke him. Jonny tripped his senses again.

Xander rose and dressed quickly. Jonny disappeared then re-entered Xander’s territory a moment later.

He went to the hospital. The scent of blood was subtle, detectable only by a vampire like him. Even with his belly full, Xander’s senses were nearly ensnared by the scent of food. He forced his attention away and walked slowly down the hallway, towards the room where the girl had been – and where Jonny had appeared twice this morning.

The Black God was gone. Xander sensed the girl in the room alone.

Jonny was up to something. Xander didn’t like it, though he wasn’t at all certain what the boy-god was doing. He moved within range of the girl’s room, intent on raiding her mind for information.

He paused a few feet away, before the door was whipped open.

Xander stared. The girl wasn’t alone; she was with a woman, one that was completely invisible to his senses.

Impossible.
He stayed where he was, rigid. In all his years, he’d never met a human capable of slipping by his senses. He was within range to hear her thoughts; all he heard was the girl’s. The woman’s mind was completely shut off from him.

Not even the Gods were able to elude him like that.

Jonny just so happened to rescue a girl connected to someone immune to mind magic, someone who was likewise invisible to the extended senses of a vampire. Why?

Xander watched them, eyes traveling over the woman’s ultra feminine shape in appreciation. She was of above average height with long, dark blonde curls loosely captured at her neck. Her toned hourglass shape was clothed in jeans and a snug t-shirt and pink house slippers, as if she’d left home in a hurry. Too young to be the teen’s mother, she was nonetheless affectionate. She hugged the girl and fluttered kisses across her features, until the teen protested loudly enough for Xander to hear.

Watchers and Others were able to evade him, except when they were within range. At that point, no one was able to withstand what he could do.

She was a Natural. He’d never heard of one with this skill. Xander had to stop himself from following. There were too few things that intrigued him after an eternity of living. This woman was one. Stronger than his curiosity was the knowledge that he wanted nothing to do with whatever Jonny was planning, no doubt against the White God, his sworn enemy. Xander knew what he’d do with the attractive woman, after fucking her. He’d send her in to spy on his enemies.

Maybe the teen god was figuring things out on his own, after the godslayer floundered for months with the responsibilities that came with leading his army of vamps.

As long as this Natural didn’t show up in Xander’s house, he was going to let her go. Unusually dissatisfied at the idea of releasing a potentially fun prey into the wild, Xander remained a moment longer. They disappeared around a corner, and he left.

He returned to the glaring brightness of the condo. His television show was playing on the large, flat screen television in the main living area. He ignored it and went to the kitchen for coffee, the only human beverage he was able to tolerate.

Ingrid was clapping at the television, and his gaze flickered to the screen. She was watching the latest of his two TV shows, the one where he was a cook. The stage kitchen was dark, except for red candles around the counter area where he did the prep for whatever he was making. He cooked bare-chested, wearing black chinos, his dark hair clasped at the base of his neck. Every episode, something exploded. Because apparently, to humans, explosions were more interesting than the fact they were watching him – a creature that hunted humans – cook their food. He loved the irony of it all.

“I’m your biggest fan girl. I’ve seen every episode a million times,” Ingrid said with her normal dramatic flare. “It’s so obvious why this is the number one show right now.”

“Sex and explosions,” he replied. “Women watch for me, and men like things that blow up.”

“I’m pretty sure men watch for you, too.”

Xander grunted and poured the first of many cups of coffee.

“Ingrid, morning duties.”

She stood obediently and walked away from the television, down the hallway to his room. Every day started the same: she escorted his nightly meal-toy out of the condo. Xander took his coffee and went onto the balcony. He propped his feet up and checked his watch.

In five minutes, the hot blonde from down the street would jog by. Every day since he’d slept with her, she stopped when she reached the apartment building, bent over to display her ample chest and made a show of tying her shoes. Anyone who read an article about him knew his reputation as the king of one-night stands. Still, he loved a woman’s body enough to enjoy the tantalizing show, more so because he knew she wanted something she was never going to have again.

Humans were funny like that.

Right at eight, the blonde appeared.

Ingrid made a sound of derision. She set down a tray with an insulated, silver pot of coffee at its center.

“Every day,” she muttered. “Like she doesn’t have anything better to do.”

Xander drank his coffee in silence. Ingrid left and returned with her laptop and an iPad, sitting at the table with him. She was soon absorbed in whatever she did on the computer. Xander glanced at her, accustomed to the near-trance she went into whenever she was online.

The blonde’s display did nothing for him today; his thoughts were on the strange woman he saw at the hospital. He was mentally running his hands over her body. He couldn’t decide if he’d be pleased or disappointed if a woman with an impenetrable mind melted at his feet like every other woman. What would it be like to be around someone completely outside his control?

Hell, he decided. He was satisfied watching others fuck up their lives without his interference, but he liked having the option of hearing their thoughts, when warranted.

Ingrid was unusually quiet. He peered into her mind. Among the activities she was engaged in: skimming money out of his accounts. That usually meant she was going on vacation. She didn’t think he knew, but Xander loved the challenge of discovering other people’s secrets. He loved to learn them, to explore the depths of the human motivation for keeping them and eventually, to use them against those around him. He knew all her secrets; it was leverage, in case she ever did anything stupid, like betray him.

“Where you going this time?” he asked.

“Ugh,” she replied. “How do you know this stuff?”

“Want me to guess?”

“You always get it right first try!”

“Boston.”

She looked up, surprised.

“Have fun.”

“Will you miss me?” she asked hopefully.

“Nope.”

Her disappointment was visible. Xander suppressed a smile. He used people. She didn’t get that it wasn’t just her; it was everyone. He didn’t need much, and he was able to appreciate the skills she had. To her credit, she was bright enough to keep around.

Not that he’d ever tell her.

“Well, I hired you a babysitter anyway,” she said. “A really fat, old, ugly woman with warts, so you’re not tempted to replace me.”

“You’re only going away for a week.”

“Someone has to make you coffee.”

“I can make my own.”

“Someone has to keep you on schedule. Which reminds me, you’ve got a ten o’clock today with your producer to plan out shooting for the next season,” Ingrid said. “You’d never stay on schedule without me.”

“Probably true.” Not that he cared too much. He was at a place in the industry where he did what he pleased. Ingrid was hyper-organized. She did all the cleaning, scheduling, finances. She found him sources of human-food when he traveled for the show.

She was useful for now.

“I wrote down the rules,” she continued. “I screened this lady and made sure she’s not going to try to steal your cooking secrets or a plant for the paparazzi or something.”

“I can handle those types of issues.”

“You know, people do ask questions if someone just randomly disappears,” Ingrid pointed out. “I can cover up the girls who accidentally get hit by cars. I can’t cover up a complete disappearance.”

“How is the one from last night?” he asked.

“She’s fine. Her boobs acted like airbags. Good thing they’re fake, though she probably needs new ones.”

“Pay the hospital bill anonymously and for any cosmetic surgery she wants,” he said.

“I want new boobs.”

Xander smiled at the bitterness in Ingrid’s tone. It wasn’t just because of her jealousy over the fact he slept with everyone, it was also her insecurity. She was like a walking rectangle with a bird face, and she got outright hostile towards the beautiful women she escorted out of his home every morning.

“So glad you don’t believe in the permanency of buying,” she muttered. Months ago, she argued unsuccessfully for him to buy rather than lease the condo. “Don’t ever get smitten by some blonde with big boobs. I still got a chance, as long as you keep renting a new girl every night.”

“You’ve got no chance,” he reminded her. “You had your night.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “X-“

“Nope.” He pushed the memory out of her mind, not wanting to have the discussion again. It was good being able to manipulate the minds of everyone around him.

Her attention shifted to her laptop once more.

“Omigod!” she exclaimed. “Your temporary babysitter was supposed to come by at noon today so I could run through things with her. She’s postponing until tomorrow morning. I’m leaving today!”

“You wrote the rules down. If she doesn’t follow them, I’ll make sure no one finds the body,” he said calmly.

Ingrid looked at him uncertainly. She loved the
idea
of vampires, but he didn’t think she really understood what it meant to view humans as prey.

“Hack into the system or whatever it is you do and move your flight up,” he said. “I can make it to my appointment without you.”

“I guess. Are you sure you don’t need me around today?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll change my ticket.” She said and waited for him to talk her out of it.

He didn’t. His attention was on the blonde on the beach. Ingrid was wounded again. The girl had issues. He checked her thoughts to confirm she changed her ticket then rose.

“See you in a week,” he said, striding into the condo. He went to his room to change for the meeting with his producer.

A few minutes later, the cat meowed at his door, indicating its entertainment – Ingrid – was gone. Xander stretched his senses to seek out any other minds in the condo. There were none. Xander cracked the door for the animal to enter and pulled on a shirt. The animal wound its way through his legs until he picked it up. His cat was as emotionally needy as Ingrid on a good day.

His wards gave off alarms again, this time indicating he had a visitor. He recognized this one and set the cat down to put on boots. When he emerged from his hallway, the Guardian he expected was seated in his living room.

“Nice place.” The dark-skinned Guardian was covered in tattoos and muscular, smaller than Xander but still a worthy adversary. The most patient of the White God’s brothers, Jule had a calming influence on those around him, including Xander, who felt his ever-present restlessness retreat some.

Jule, the Original Immortal, was the only Guardian that dared set foot in Xander’s home. Their truce was formed pre-Schism; they had no choice but to be friendly to one another. Or at least, not to attack one another. With so few remaining from his time, Xander was usually pleased to see the man responsible for killing any vamps Xander created.

“It works for me,” Xander said.

“I saw your show. You are the king of subtle, aren’t you?” Jule’s gaze fell to the cat. “Is that a vamp-cat?”

“Yeah,” Xander replied and set down the animal. “Long story.”

“It can’t infect humans, can it?” Jule asked.

“No. Those …things Jonny’s predecessor created in Ohio were freaks. This is a real vamp. She just kills things smaller than she is.”

“Sounds a lot like you.”

Xander sat down across from Jule. “Whatever Damian wants, the answer is no.” Damian, the White God, had tried to task him twice in the past few months. “You can’t use our truce to ask for favors. You’re out of those.”

“He doesn’t want anything,” Jule said with a small smile, unfazed. “Believe it or not, Sofi sent me.”

Xander eyed him. “That’s worse. The day that bitch is alone, I’ll take her head off.” Sofi, the wife of the White God, Damian, was the most powerful Oracle Xander had ever met in his long history. She used it against him one time too many and burned any bridge he might consider passable.

Gods, but he hated Oracles. His own upbringing did nothing but convince him that Oracles in general were never to be trusted.

“She shares the sentiment,” Jule said, laughing. “But she is a lot like you. She understands the bigger picture and does what she must.”

“It must be bad, if she sent you.”

“It’s the Others. You’re like a magnet lately. All our intel tells us they’re after you for some reason.”