To Love (Vampire Assassin League Book 21) (7 page)

“Hello, Sir. Yes. I’m here. Yeah. In the crypt just like you said. MacCorrick really needs to work on his castle. The place is an absolute dive. And he’s got millions in his accounts. There is no excuse. I could help him, if push comes to shove, although I’m not into architecture and design. Last time I decorated, we were into shag rugs and black lights. No, Sir. I don’t have the information yet. I just dropped in. Literally. What? No, Sir. I haven’t any access to the internet. Have you seen Corrick Castle? It doesn’t even have doors.”

Nigel chattered on. Cullen listened with half an ear. He didn’t have a choice since the kid wasn’t remotely stealthy and the crypt was solemn and quiet, as usual. Then Cullen’s attention span got harder to maintain. His mate tipped her head slightly to one side as she listened. That gave Cullen direct access to her throat. A blue-tinged vein drew his eye. It was tapping with her pulse beat right beneath her skin. Situated between the already-healing dual evidence of puncture wounds he’d given her last night. Cullen fangs reacted, tingling as they elongated. Preparing. Remembering.

Ah. Last night...

What the devil?

Cullen’s body responded without the slightest command from him. His hips bucked upward slightly, and even with the layers of her skirt and the mass of woolen plaid on his lap, Cullen could swear he felt her. He tightened his frame to still movement, but nothing stopped the tremor that scored him, and then transferred to her. The reaction was instantaneous. Massive. And completely foreign. He didn’t recall anything like this when he’d lived.

She tipped a glance toward him, snagged his gaze for a second and then looked away. A smile curved her lips while a spot of blush appeared on the cheek he could see. Cullen might be sitting on cold stone, but he didn’t feel anything but warmth. All-over warm. His fangs got even longer. Sharper. And then Nigel’s voice interceded.

“Yes, he’s right here. Yeah. Her, too. You want to talk to him? No? Okay. Cool. Oh. No, Sir. I told you. I don’t have any internet. You should just get us all the new phones. Why not? We’re starting to look like dinosaurs. Never. I know they’re easier to trace, but what if I promise not to go beyond the time frame? I know it’s addictive, but I am a mature adult, you know. I am perfectly capable of monitoring my time online. Oh. You know about that, too? Well, I didn’t know she was a transvestite. She was really hot. And her website was a trip. All right. Her name
was
Sam. So? Could have been short for Samantha. Okay. Fine. No internet linked phones. Geez.”

“Who is he talking to?” Marla turned her head toward Cullen to whisper it, sending breath over his neck and chest. His heart thumped oddly. Hers may have, too, if the glance she gave him meant anything.

“I would guess its Akron Profit. The head of VAL.”

“Of course it’s Akron,” Nigel interrupted. “Who else is this snoopy and controlling? Oh. You heard that, Sir? Crudballs. Listen. I may have been referring to you, but I meant it in a good way. You keep asking that. The answer is still no. I am not checking any colleges. I’m not the university type. That was the argument behind my motor vehicle accident, remember? Really? Paul Henry is enrolled there? Is that a coincidence or what? How do I know his name? Good question. Um. Gotta go now, Sir. ’Bye.”

He slapped the cover of the phone closed and deposited it on a statue base beside him before turning back to them. “Damn, he’s good. Now you know why I call him dad. It’s impossible to keep anything from the guy. Even if you’re really sneaky. You don’t think he’s suspicious, do you?”

“Of what?” Marla asked.

“Paul Henry. He’s my grandson. He’s in college up here. Not far from where we are, actually.”

“You have a grandson?”

“Yeah. As far as I can tell from his internet profile, he’s the spitting image of me, too. Real handsome kid.”

“I’m having a difficult time wrapping my head around that image.”

“Oh. Burn. Ouch, lady. Thanks.”

“No. I didn’t mean that. I meant it’s difficult to believe you have a grandson. You look...maybe sixteen.”

“Almost twenty. Okay? About four years younger than your mate there. But in human years, I’m sixty-ish. If I had a job, I’d be checking retirement options. You happy now?”

“Wow. Cullen. I’m beginning to believe you.”

“Believe that I’m na’ lying or believe that it’s true?”

He smiled, putting full length canines on display. This time when she looked up at her, he watched her take in his fangs and then move to match gazes with him. She didn’t look frightened. Her expression was more thoughtful. Considering. Pondering. And really endearing. He lowered his head a fraction.

“Well. I’m beginning to feel like I’m in a debate. And somebody started without me.”

“This is a private conversation, Nigel,” Cullen informed him without looking his direction.

“And you have a very small crypt with great acoustics. So. What do you say we ditch this place and go someplace a little more modern? Like...the university campus.”

Marla turned back to the kid. Cullen followed the movement, but he was slower.

“What? I never said I’d interact with anyone. I just wanna check on him. You know. Take a gander at posterity and all that. Don’t give me that look. You ever have a grandson?”

Cullen shook his head.

“Then don’t knock it. I mean, damn. I have a grandson? And he looks just like me? Man. I might have to get responsible or something. So. Hey. Let’s get cracking. Find out what your old lady knows already, so we can close out the Lang file.”

“My old lady?”

“Yeah. Your mate, there. Didn’t you pay attention to lingo in the seventies? Man. Geezers. I’m telling you, I’m surrounded by old farts. I mean, you were around then. We didn’t just have elephant-bell pants, pet rocks, and 8-track tapes.”

“Elephant bells?”

“Yeah. I loved those pants. If I’d known they were going to quit making them, I’d have bought every pair I could find. I still can’t find a designer who’ll make them fit right. Nobody knows anything about fashion anymore. Well? What do you say? She gonna tell us what she knows, so we can all split this joint?”

“What I know...about what?” Marla asked.

Nigel looked heavenward before looking back down. “We got the intel about an Edwina. We’ve come up empty on that so far. We’ve got the series of numbers, too. You need to be a little clearer on the starting number. Was it sixty-eight or sixty-six? You gave conflicting reports.”

“How do you know this?” She sounded strange. Choked. Cullen’s arm tightened automatically, pulling her a little closer to him.

“We are part of the best covert killing team in the world, toots. We know all kinds of things. So. You gonna cough up the info or not?”

“Excuse me. Did you just say covert
killing
team?”

“Well. Yeah. For the right price.”

“You kill people?”

“Not indiscriminately. Come on lady. We’re the Vampire Assassin League. We assassinate. People have been paying for that since the beginning of time. And, since we’re vampires and need blood to survive, it’s a win-win. You got a problem with that?”

“Well. If I do, I know who to take it up with. And it isn’t going to be you. You’re an Aries, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“I’m an astrologer. I’m pretty sure you’re an Aries. Your sign is the ram. Nothing subtle about a young ram, is there?”

“Subtle is for losers.”

“Yep. Aries.”

“Oh. Let me guess. He didn’t explain the vampire assassin part, either. Geez, Cullen. How slow do you Scotsmen talk? You had all night.”

“We did na’ spend last eve...talking.” Cullen voice deepened. It wasn’t the words. It was at how the cheek in his line of sight darkened with an even more vivid blush.

“Oh. Fine. Thanks. Really. Thanks a lot. I have to wait centuries for a mate, and you gotta remind me what I’m missing. Thanks again. Jerk.”

The last word ended with another heavy metal guitar riff, as if for emphasis. Nigel grabbed his pocket and pulled out another cell.

“That’s your ringtone? Heavy metal?” Marla asked.

“Best music on the planet. Don’t knock it, sister. Hello again, Sir. Nope. Still don’t have the info. Hang on. I’ll ask.” He looked over at Marla. “The boss wants to know if it’s possible there was a clerical error with your statement and you meant Edina not Edwina.”

“I never said Edwina,” Marla replied.

“Try Edina,” Nigel answered into the phone. “No. I didn’t know that, Sir. Edina is the Latin name for Edinburgh? Who knew? Well, of course you would, Sir. You know everything. What? Oh. Good one, Sir. Most of the world’s problems probably could be solved if we communicated correctly the first time. Well. Sounds like we know the starting place. I’ll ask.”

He turned back to Marla.

“Lang didn’t tell you what station, did he?”

“Who?”

“The guy in the fake beard. Lang. He was the hit. He left us some problems. We’re still trying to eliminate them. Permanently. You know. Like our advertisement says.”

Marla shook her head. The movement wafted vanilla-honey scent toward Cullen. He inhaled a deep breath and held it. She had a wondrous aroma. He was already addicted.

“Great.” Nigel turned back to his cell. “No, Sir. Oh. I’d try the bus station, then. If it’s the only one with lockers. What? Oh no, Sir. I wouldn’t dream of checking on Paul Henry. It hadn’t even occurred to me. The kid’s a Hunter. For all I know he’s being groomed to take over from what’s-his-face. Yeah. Chester. Okay. Later.”

He ended the call and put the phone beside the other one on the statue base. Cullen held onto his mate, cradling her as close as possible. Nigel had just blazed through everything Cullen needed to tell her, but the kid had zero finesse. His beloved was probably in shock.

“So. You two ready to blow this place, or what?”

“Thanks to you, I think we’ll be needing some time alone. Right now.”

“Again?” Nigel did some head rolling.

“You know where the exit is.”

“We don’t have time for that. It’s Friday night! The entire campus is probably partying already and—”

“Nigel.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Like giving me a dirty look is going to do much. I’ll have you know I’ve been threatened by every assassin in the league, Mister Cullen MacCorrick, Big, Bad and Bully-the-little—”

Another guitar riff went off. Nigel jumped before yanking another phone out. He might be feeling the frustration. Otherwise he wouldn’t have barked a greeting into it.

“What is it now?”

Nigel Beathan.

Cullen didn’t have to be near to make out the response. The tone behind it was extraordinary. Nigel yanked the cell from his ear but it was too late. Akron had an amazing voice. It radiated through the crypt rattling stone urns and marble statuary. And then, to Cullen’s surprise, he could have sworn Marla started chuckling. Her entire frame was shuddering.

Was it possible? She was laughing?

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again. I just wasn’t expecting another call so soon. Well, I’m not going to learn much in the field if you’re calling me every other minute. Crap. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Yes. Yes. I know you said you’d check on me. I brought plenty of phones for this eventuality. Hang on.”

He looked over at Marla and Cullen. “The boss wants to know if you know where The Old Aberdeen Ferryden turntable is.”

“The ancient railway one?”

“I guess.”

“Aye.”

Nigel turned back to the call. “If it’s the old railway one, he knows it. Meet you there? I thought you were on your way to Edinburgh. Now? But, Sir. That doesn’t give me any time—. Uh. Forget I said that. All right. Fine. You have my word. I will not go anywhere near the university. Geez.”

Nigel shut the phone and just stood there, looking down at it.. “Well. I guess that’s that. No family viewing for Nigel. No. My grandson’s not even going to know I exist.”

“You don’t,” Cullen told him. “You’re undead.”

“Yeah. I know. So are you guys. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Aberdeen Ferrydon Turntable is a prime spot for university bonfires. And it’s Friday night. They usually have a bonfire. And a lot of students.”

“How do you know that?”

“Prime feeding ground, kid. And most of them are na’ exactly sober, if you catch my meaning.”

“Sweet! Now that, I didn’t know. So. You coming or what? Like...now?”

“Is it still daylight?”

Nigel placed the cell beside the other two. Then he turned, lowered his chin and glared at them. But he did unfold his cape with precision, shake it, and then swirl it out so it landed on his shoulders.

“Why don’t you just go check for us, kid? Take your time. We’ll be along shortly.”

“Okay. But talk faster this time. Deal?”

Marla answered him. “We’ll be right behind you, Grandpa.”

Nigel nodded, and leapt upward. Cullen barely had time to shield her with his body before the door to the crypt opened above them. And the kid had no idea how lucky he was that it was twilight.

“Cullen?”

She felt so good in his arms. It took an act of will to loosen his hold and move back. Even then he only managed a couple of inches. He’d never been a good orator. It was time to find a steep learning curve. He pulled in a deep breath. So did she. They spoke in tandem.

“Well. This is just more evidence,” she said.

“I’ve a bit of explaining to do,” he countered.

“Later. Maybe,” she replied.

“What?”

“There’s really no need, Cullen. As an astrologer, for me, your explanations are a waste of time. If something like this hadn’t happened, I’d have been surprised.”

“Truly?”

“Well. Not
exactly
this, but I fully believe in what our time and date of birth portends. The star sign you’re born under determines a huge part of your life. My horoscope said I would meet my destiny during the fall equinox. I didn’t expect it to be you. Or vampirism. I mean, finding out there is such a thing as vampires, and then mating with one is pretty unbelievable stuff. But I have clients who dream of something like this happening to them.”

“I’m your destiny?” Cullen sat up a little straighter.

“Oh. Brother. Trust a Sagittarius to turn the spotlight onto them every chance they get.”

“What’s a Sagittarius?”

“It’s a star sign. Yours. I’m betting you were born in late November, or sometime in December. Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Well. I do na’ ken for certain, but ’twas during the winter. You may be right.”

“Oh. I look forward to proving it, darling. I’m very good at what I do. Really. So. That does solve any misgivings I might think to have. And any further revelations you might have for me.”

“You just called me darling,” he told her.

She laughed while his body erupted with a full dose of giddiness. He was actually afraid to move.

“You are really something, Cullen. You know that? Gorgeous. Equipped. I’m not even going to
touch
on what a fantastic lover you are. And I get to be your mate for eternity? What can I say? There are worse destinies.”

“There are?”

She pondered him for a long moment, and then smiled. “Sagittarians. Even when you compliment the crap out of them, they want more. Listen. I’ve been thinking. I study astrology. It’s my passion. And I either have to believe that everything that’s happened to me was predestined...or I’m a fraud. And I’m no fraud.”

“You’re a seer?”

“Well...I suppose if I’d been around way back when with you, I’d have been in a dungeon, too. Only I’d have been given a grisly death that included a large stake and a big fire.”

“Drawing and quartering is
nae
picnic, either,
Anam-charaid
.

“And there goes the Sag self-absorption again. Wow. You about ready then?”

“For what?”

“To watch junior check out his grandson. That’s got to be something you won’t see every day. Kind of like you.”

“
Nae
one sees me like this.”

“Good thing. As a Virgo, I’m not exactly the jealous type, but as a Virgo-who-happens-to-be-a-vampire, I wouldn’t test it if I were you.”

“You are na’ turned completely,
Ionmhainn.
I was overcome last eve, but na’ completely witless.”

He jumped off his stone slab and set her next to him so he could shake out his plaid and wrap it about him, creating a
feile-breacan
. She was watching the entire time. That made his fingers shake while other parts started to demonstrate interest. Massive interest. He was strapping on his claymore when she spoke.

“So... will turning me into a full-fledged vampire feel as good as last night?

Cullen looked down at her and winked. The smile she gave him sent everything into overdrive. His fangs were even a problem.

“You know. Cullen. If junior wasn’t up there waiting for us...”

“Junior?” he asked.

The door above them lifted. It was full dark. Nigel’s voice drifted through the opening.

“You two want to wrap things up down there? Time is wasting already. And Dad called again. I know. Hard to believe. But hey. He said to tell you Marla’s info checked out. One flash drive with files on it is being sent to the client as I speak. Case closed. Good work...oh elevator farts. It’s starting to rain. Maybe it’ll just sprinkle and stop again. What do you think? They won’t kill their party over a little rain will they?”

Cullen gave a heavy sigh. And in perfect unison with him, so did his mate.

~ ~ ~

“Oh. Look! Look! Will you two look at that? He’s got a letterman jacket. He lettered in athletics. You see? That’s Paul Henry. My grandson. Isn’t he something?”

“All I can see is Hunters,” Cullen responded.
And Akron
. The VAL leader was well back from the festivities, covered in a black cape that resembled Nigel’s. Silently watching. Cullen didn’t say a thing about that. He wasn’t paying much attention to the scene anyway. Marla was standing beside him, an arm tucked behind his waist, while he was doing his utmost not to lift her completely against him. To hold her. And anticipate being alone with her again. Fused. Joined. Together.

While he turned her completely.

His arm tightened. She gave him a quick upward glance. He groaned. Trembled. And the sweetest smile touched her lips.

“Of course you see Hunters. He’s Chester’s oldest and heir. They’re going to have him guarded. They better have him guarded. Don’t they realize how precious he is?”

“Precious?” Marla said.

“Do you think he’d like me? I mean, really like me? My father wasn’t fond of me. I was a major disappointment. And he never let me forget it. Chester probably doesn’t know I exist. Well. I didn’t even know about Paul Henry until this year. It’s weird. I have a grandson. I am so proud. That must be it. Why...if I had feelings, I’d be all over that one.”

He was talking to both of them but Marla answered. “That’s cute.”

“You don’t think—? Nah. I better not.”

“You’re na’ to do anything other than look, Nigel. I’m warning you. There are too many Hunters about.”

“I see four bodyguards. Maybe six. That’s nothing to us. I can handle one. Maybe two. You good with the others?”

“You’ve got eighteen. They’re staked out all about the enclosure. Don’t you dare try it.”

Cullen lifted his mate from the ground with one arm and hooked the other about Nigel. They were across a huge clearing from his grandson. If they didn’t have acute eyesight, he’d have been hard to recognize. Nigel was fixated on his grandson. He didn’t recognize the danger. He’d missed most of the Hunters because only six were in their camouflage outfits. The others were in college attire, trying to blend in. They weren’t successful. The enclosure was full of young and not-so-young humans. Most appeared to have a dram or two of good Scot whiskey beneath their belts. The enormous fire they’d built sent light onto the enthusiastic crowd. Yelling. Dancing. Flirting. That made the Hunters easier to spot. They weren’t joining the festivities. They kept one arm at their side at all times. Cullen only needed a glimpse to see why. They were packing small crossbows equipped with wooden stake/arrows. Two had innocuous-looking squirt guns. They held Holy Water. There was another clue to their identity, however. Hunters smelled of something burning. Always had. It wasn’t a woodsy aroma like the bonfire. Their smell was acrid. Rank. And they hadn’t done a thing to mask it.

“I wasn’t going to approach him,” Nigel complained.

“
Nae
. You’re na’. You’d have to get through me first.”

Nigel sighed, and then grinned. “I have an heir. Fancy that. And he’s...well. I don’t know if he looks exactly like me, but he is rather handsome, isn’t he?”

“Do na’ ask me. I’m na’ one for lads.”

“How about your mate? Well? What do you think, sweet cheeks? Is he handsome or what? I mean...from a cougar’s point of view.”

“I am surprised I haven’t smacked you yet,” Marla answered. “But the night is still young.”

“Why? It’s a valid question, and—oh shit. Oh hell. What the—? No. No. No. No. It can’t be. No.”

A young blond woman had joined Nigel’s grandson, Paul Henry. She didn’t look like anything spectacular, although she was wearing cheerleader attire. They all watched as Paul Henry held out a hand, and she took it.

“Oh no. No. It’s not possible!
No
!”

Nigel was definitely drawing attention. The last word ended with a sobbed sound.

“Why the long face? It appears your grandson also like blondes. You have a problem with that?”

“It’s her.”

“You’ll need to be a mite more specific, lad,” Cullen informed him.

“My heart just started beating. Oh. No. It isn’t possible. No.”

Cullen exchanged glances with Marla. They both turned back to Nigel. He was staring in shock at the couple. He looked ill. Like he’d taken a sucker punch. Cullen instantly scanned, locating twelve Hunters in his peripheral view. That left six unaccounted for. The odds weren’t good, but he’d been up against worse. And Akron would help. A quick look showed their leader was still hovering at the crowd edge. Focused completely on Nigel.

“Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Kid. Buck up. I do na’ see much problem. Your mate has arrived. You’ve located her. Won’t be too difficult to go get her. Take me about five seconds. You won’t even miss me.”

“You don’t understand! She’s with Paul Henry!”

“So?”

“He told me I had centuries before this happened! Seven hundred plus years! I’m not ready! Oh shit!”

“You’re na’ ready? Are you mad? Mating is na’ something that happens to everyone. You have to be verra lucky! It’s a gift. The greatest gift. Trust me.”

“Don’t you see? It will hurt.”

“Most likely. I’ve got eighteen potential victims already lined up.”

“No. No. It’ll hurt Paul Henry.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps na’. I can try and isolate him if you want.”

“You don’t understand! Oh...hell!”

Nigel had an arm across his eyes, shielding emotion. Cullen looked to Marla again and then back.

“Kid. Calm down. If you do na’ wish to harm anyone tonight, we can fetch her on the morrow. What’s a day in comparison to eternity?”

Nigel snarled and spun, putting his back to the scene. He still had his arm across his eyes. He didn’t see Akron appear in the space before him, his cloak still ruffling with the speed he’d moved. Cullen turned his head and located the other six Hunters.

“We have to go. We have to leave now,” Nigel said from what sounded like clenched teeth.

“Fine. We’ll fetch her on the morrow for you.”

“No. We won’t be doing anything like that tomorrow. We’re leaving. Now.”

“But...it’s your mate, lad. And I vow, mating is the most beauteous experience in the universe. You canna’ be serious.”

“Do you love your mate, MacCorrick?” Nigel asked.

“Oh. Completely. Absolutely.”

“What if somebody were to harm her? You gonna let them get away with that?”

Cullen growled. He didn’t think he could answer around the instantaneous and massive heat that scored his frame. It colored the scene with a dark red wash.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I thought. Nobody is harming the one you love. And yet, you expect
me
to hurt him?”

“You’re telling me you love your grandson that much? Already? You’ll accept an eternity of solitude and loneliness rather than risk hurting him? You can’t be serious. You expect me to believe this?”

“I’m not equipped for this decision. Not right now. Okay. I want to go home. I don’t know if I’ll ever be a field associate. Now with this shit. Can you call the big guy for me?”

“No need,” Akron answered.

Nigel pulled his arm down. He looked worse than before. He looked haggard. Older somehow.

“Sir.”

“You certain you wish to leave? You may never get a second chance.”

Nigel didn’t even turn back around. He stood taller. Straighter, and didn’t look at any of them. Cullen dropped the arm at Nigel’s back.

“Yes,” he finally answered.

“So be it. You’re Marla? Pleasure. I sincerely hope you’re good at construction, architecture, and design. You’re going to need it. Cullen? You are to go to MacKettryck’s castle. It’s not far. They’re expecting you. Don’t take your mate back to Castle Corrick until it’s rebuilt. Nigel? I have the jet nearby. If you’re certain?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The kid still looked ill. Drained. He swayed in place, but remained upright.

“If it helps at all, Nigel, I know precisely how you feel.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes. Precisely.”

“I don’t think it helps, Sir. Nothing does.”

“Well. Don’t worry. It will.”

-o0o-