Mia's Return (2 page)

Diego snorted.

“We also found jobs for twenty-two
humans,” Alexander added. “Which is surreal but just means we’re
growing roots and networking our way into the human world, which is
exactly what Seaveth wanted.”

Diego rolled his eyes. “Next time I’m
faced with a pack of drooling vampeen I’ll flash them my Sears
credit card. That’ll scare ’em.”

“As for that…” Alexander triggered the
quick release on the sleeve sheath of his knife and caught it as it
sprang from the sleeve, nicked a lock of Diego’s hair and handed it
to him, all before Diego got his hand up to block Alexander’s arm.
“There are other weapons besides briefcases. It’s carbon fiber,
compressed to hold an edge and won’t show up in the security scans
in the foyer downstairs.”

“Wow,” Diego breathed, sitting up,
clearly impressed. “Show me the sheath.”

Zack took a huge bite of the hamburger
and chewed. Both Alexander and Diego turned to watch him eat with
profound interest.

He swallowed. “Sorry,” he said.
“But…”

“Do you remember what they taste like?”
Diego asked Alexander.

“Yes.” Alexander sighed.

“They look so good,” Diego
murmured.

Zack grimaced. “Since the change, I
can’t feed anymore. I have to get the calories from somewhere. We
finally figured out that food is what I need.”

“You can eat anything?” Alexander asked
enviously.

“Pretty much,” Zack confessed. “Except
the elven crap Lindál tries to make.”

“And you have to…eliminate it too?”
Alexander said delicately.

Zack grinned. “Yeah. What goes in,
comes out.”

“But you’re still a vampire?” Diego
said flatly.

“Yes.” Zack opened his mouth and his
incisors descended. “I heal, my reaction times are faster than
ever. I’m stronger than either of you since Lindál, Seaveth and I
formed the trinity. I can create another vampire, if I have
to.”

Zachariah had been reluctant to make
Alexander ten years ago. Since then, Zachariah and Diego had taken
him under their wing. In their eyes, he was still in training. A
decade was barely enough time to remove the diapers.

Zachariah’s inclusion in the trinity
against the Grimoré—the first of the trinities, if Seaveth was to
be believed—had made Diego angrier than usual, so this was the
first time Zack had given them a glimpse of some of the more
private aspects of that very odd arrangement between him, a human
and an elf.

Diego crossed his arms, his leg
swinging again. “You might be stronger, Zachariah but you’re
certainly not any smarter. Hooking up with that elvish mutation?
What exactly is it you do at night, anyway?”

“Shut up, Diego,” Alex told him. “You
don’t know anything about it.”

Zack kept on eating, clearly starving.
He knew Diego’s history better than Alexander and didn’t rise to
the bait.

The phone on Alexander’s desk beeped.
“It’s your line, Zack,” Alexander said. “Lindál’s cell phone.”

Zack waved. “You get it,” he said
around a mouthful of hamburger.

“It’s Alexander, Lindál,” he said into
the phone. “Zack’s…eating.” Even saying it felt strange.

“I’m cornered in an alley on Cherry
Street, by Rutgers Street,” Lindál said sharply. “About thirty of
them. This is new, this time of day. Come fast.” Then nothing.

Alexander hung up. “Vampeen. Thirty, on
Cherry Street, by Rutgers.”

Zack swept the food into the bag and
stood up. So did Diego.

“You don’t have to come,” Zack said to
Diego. “The
mutant
and I can handle it.”

Diego shrugged. “I need some
entertainment.”

Zack looked at Alexander.

“I’d go with you if you needed me but
thirty seems manageable if both you and Lindál are there…and I have
a date.” Alexander hid his smile.

“You son of a dog,” Diego said.
“Who?”

“Christine.”

“Fuck,” Diego swore. “Who’s lost their
scruples now?”

“I’m just welcoming her to the company,
Diego. Back down.”

Diego’s black eyes looked thundery.
“One day, my friend, you will fall from your pedestal and I hope
I’m around to see it.”

“I fell off that pedestal ten years
ago, Diego. Zachariah saved my ass and gave me a second chance. I
have no intention of blowing it. Go haul Lindál’s ashes out of the
fire instead of giving me grief. I’ve got things to do.”

Zachariah smiled as he held the door
open for Diego. “You’re learning, kid,” he told Alexander. Then he
was gone.

Alexander found he was smiling as he
reloaded his knife and headed out the door. He bade Christine
goodnight and confirmed their arrangements. She
was
pretty
in a pink and white way but he would never let Diego know she left
him completely unmoved.

He considered running down the fire
escape stairs to the foyer to avoid the congestion in the
elevators. At this time of day it would take forever. The stairs
wouldn’t tax him in the slightest. But it might draw attention to
him. So he patiently waited for the elevator and stepped on with a
dozen others and moved to the side to give them room.

The elevator stopped on the next floor,
with more people getting on but by then his animal instinct was
crowding him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He
was being watched. His heart thundered.

He made no sudden moves. Instead, as
people pushed onto the elevator, he turned so his back was to the
side wall of the car, giving him an excuse to look at everyone if
he brought his head up.

He lifted his head and looked
around.

She was standing on the other side of
the car, almost completely obscured by the other riders because she
was only just over five foot.

Mia
. Shamira Menendez of San
Diego, California.

His first aching thought was,
You’re
so fucking beautiful, Mia
.

Then reality caught him in the chest.
Mia was staring at him because she thought he was dead. She thought
he’d died ten years ago, in San Diego.

Now she was watching him with tears in
her eyes and all he could think about was his swelling cock and his
exploding heart and how much he wanted to take up where he had left
off…bend her over the counter, sliding his cock into her pussy and
making her scream his name.

“Are you all right, sir?”

He tore his gaze away from Mia. “Excuse
me?” he said hoarsely. He looked down at the gray-haired lady next
to him.

“Your breathing is all funny,” she
said. “Are you claustrophobic?”

Others were looking at him now.
Becoming the center of attention was never a good thing for a
vampire. Zack had drilled that into him. Seaveth was even more of a
sergeant about it now vampires were assimilating into human
society. He swallowed. “I’m fine,” he said.

But he wasn’t. He looked at Mia. She
was still watching. She knew it was him. There was no way to deny
it. No escape. No bluff he could use to fool her. The knowledge
gleamed in her eyes.

“Give him room, please,” she said.
“Everyone, stand back a bit.” She stepped closer, taking
charge.

They all shuffled back and squeezed
closer together, clearing eighteen inches. Mia pushed between them
and stepped into the space. “Take a deep breath,” she told him, her
voice low.

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her
face. The tears in her eyes pooled and one fell down her cheek.
Just one. But she didn’t wipe it, or show any sign of emotion.
Cool, calm, controlled. “We’re nearly there,” she added, speaking
for the others in the car, maintaining the illusion of a
claustrophobe in full panic mode. She knew as well as he did it was
nothing of the sort.

As the doors opened, the others stood
back, letting them exit first. She grabbed his lapels and hauled
him from the car. He let her, for he stood a foot higher than her
and outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds. But her scent was
wreathing his head and making his senses reel. Something with
vanilla and…grapefruit? He could feel his incisors trying to
descend and his mouth filling with vampire saliva to deaden her
flesh so she wouldn’t feel the first piercing of his teeth. His
cock was pounding with the agonizing need to slam her up against
the marbled walls of the foyer and fuck her senseless.

He was almost hyperventilating with the
dilemma.

Her hand rested on his chest. God, he
could feel her heat through her hand. He swallowed.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she
whispered. No hello. No attempt to confirm who he was. She was that
sure of him despite ten years.

He couldn’t afford to answer her, to
even start the conversation. Instead, he stared at her, soaking up
details. She had been eighteen when he left and even at that age,
infinitely dangerous to his pulse. Now she was a mature woman and
beyond dangerous. He could feel it in his heart, his mind, his
cock. His whole body was responding to her like a nuclear magnet.
She wore her dark hair down to her shoulder blades but styled in
some mysterious fashion that just brushed over one eye and framed
her high cheekbones and pointed chin. Her black eyes, still
gleaming with tears and with their arched strong brows, were
staring at him, giving him no quarter. They never had. Her
lips…full, the top one like a cupid’s bow. He had dreamed about
kissing those lips and woken sweating in his lonely bed all those
years ago when he
could
sweat. Those lips still looked
sweet, the teeth behind them white and beckoning.

Mia was wearing a dress. He had no way
to describe it, except to say it wrapped her in roses and made the
most of her figure. She had a figure. Even at eighteen she’d had a
figure. He had lusted after it. In ten years, it had changed very
little. Her breasts had not sagged. Her hips had not spread. Her
waist was still as tiny as ever. It was that tiny waist he had
grabbed as he had bent her over the counter….

He realized his heart was thundering in
his ears. With her hand on his chest, she must surely feel it
too.

She was frowning, staring at him. “You
haven’t changed,” she said. “Not at
all.
” She stepped back,
her hand falling away.

Alexander realized she had seen, then,
he had not aged. This was one of the reasons that Zachariah and
Diego had insisted he move to New York once Zack had made him.

Mia took another step backward and he
could see her doing the mental math.

“Mia,” he began and stopped, mentally
cursing. He’d just confirmed he was who she thought he was. Until
that moment there had remained the possibility of pretending she’d
made an embarrassing mistake. It would have killed him to do it and
it would have hurt her, but it would have been a way out. That
chance was gone now.

He closed his eyes. What a fucking
disaster. He opened them again and took a last look at her.
Beautiful Mia. She was starting to realize there was something
dreadfully wrong. Horror was creeping into her expression. He
needed to leave before she began to look at him like the monster he
was.

He turned and walked away, moving fast.
As soon as he reached the corridor between the elevator banks, he
ducked between them and moved faster. She would never catch him
once he reached the service stairs door, for he knew the basement
area well. Plus, once he was out of sight of humans he could use
vampire speed. He would make sure she didn’t catch him.

He had to.

When Shamira realized she had lost him
in the crowd, she turned and leaned against the cool marble wall
and caught her breath, feeling her feet throb in her Jimmy Choos.
They had been the perfect shoes for the interview but right now
she’d give them away for a pair of Reebok sneakers.

Alexander.
Her mind whispered
the name, even as she tried to distract herself with thoughts of
shoes, interviews and fashion. Usually, fashion and shopping were
more than adequate distractions on their own. Hell, she’d flown up
from D.C. for a two-day shopping trip instead of flying straight
back to San Diego after the interview. What
had
she been
thinking? Two days shopping on Fifth Avenue? She’d grown moist and
perky just thinking about it. She was shallow and superficial—

“Stop it, Mia, why are you doing this?”
she whispered, rolling her head back against the marble, her eyes
stinging. Truth was, she didn’t want to think about him, but she
could still feel his warmth where she’d rested her hand against his
chest. Alexander le Croix. The man she’d obsessed about since she
was sixteen. The man who had bent her over her kitchen counter at
eighteen, pushed a hand between her legs and whispered in her
ear.

Her heart hurried along just at the
memory of it and the memory was a decade old.

Alexander had been mixed up with the
people her brothers had hung with. Her brothers had been edging
into gang business but Alexander wasn’t part of the gangs, oh no.
He was higher up, at the business end of affairs, moving with the
silent men who listened a lot and spoke less, except to say yes or
no. They dealt with amounts of money in a single transaction that
would have made most folk in San Diego go white and tremble in
shock if they learned of it. These were the sort of men who used
the gangs as tools—commodities to move around the chessboard to
complete their business.

Like all of them, Alexander spoke
seldom but watched and listened, his blue eyes moving around the
room and measuring people, anticipating them. The first time she
has seen him was when Juan had brought him to the trailer to pick
up something Juan had hidden beneath his bunk in an anonymous bag.
Shamira had learned long before not to ask questions.

She had been doing homework at the
kitchen table and tried to go back to it but her heart squeezed to
a stuttering stop as the man with the blue eyes and dark red hair
stared at her while he stood at the front door of the
double-wide.