Between a Vamp and a Hard Place (16 page)

I stared at him, utterly breathless.

“I want nothing more, Lindsey,” he whispered. “But I will wait. I am a patient man.”

My mouth was dry. “O-okay.”

“Now sleep,” he murmured, rolling to his side. He pulled me against him once more, nestling me in the crook of his arm as if we hadn't just had a make-out session that made me want to jump his bones. “You need your rest.”

Rest was the last thing I was thinking of. “I'll try,” I said with a yawn.

His hand moved against my wet hair, fanning it over my shoulders. “You will succeed,” he murmured, and indeed, I began to feel sleepier as I snuggled against him and he toyed with my hair. Was he using mind control to make me rest? Did I care?

It wasn't until I'd nearly nodded back off to sleep that my brain focused on the thing that was bothering me.

I gasped and bolted out of bed, pushing aside the covers. I looked at the time. Five a.m. Shit. I scrambled for my phone. “Gemma,” I said.

She'd been quiet for far too long. Gemma was a serial texter, and the fact that she hadn't said a peep in the last twenty-four hours? I was worried. I picked up my phone and flicked the screen on. No new text messages. My stomach clenching with fear, I scrolled back through the texts we'd sent earlier, rereading them.

Her last message was
Ooo, there's someone at the door. Maybe it's the dealer. I'll keep you posted!

Someone at the door?

I thought of the vampires that had ambushed me in the streets, and my body went cold. It hadn't been a casual overtaking. They'd been following us. Expecting us. “I think they might have Gemma,” I told him, utterly sick at the thought. If she'd thought they were antiques dealers, she'd have invited them in, no questions asked. And once you invited a vampire inside . . . “We have to go back to Venice.”

“We can't now,” he murmured. “Dawn is almost here. If I leave this room, it will be a death sentence for me.”

I looked at the window, where we'd tossed a blanket over the curtains and used a few hair scrunchies to secure it to the curtain rod. No light came in, but I knew he was right. It was extremely late—or early, depending on how you looked at it. Gemma's text had been sent hours and hours ago, before I'd known there were other vampires hunting for Rand.

At the time, I'd thought nothing of it.

Now, however, my hands trembled as I sent her a message.
Hey, Gemma—wakey wakey. Question for you.

No answer. Of course there was no answer, I told myself, trying to be reasonable. It was five in the morning. She was asleep. Gemma tried not to wake up before the crack of noon unless I made her.

I could leave and go after her. Five or six hours and I'd be in Venice . . .

And Rand would be all alone.

And Gemma might be fine.

Or she might be dead already.

I had no way of knowing. Rand could take care of himself when it came to combat, but he was helpless when it came to simple things. The man had just now figured out doorknobs.

I needed to stay. Even as I told myself that, I felt horrible guilt.

Please be okay, Gemma. Please.

I
didn't sleep a wink the entire time Rand was out. In vain, I texted Gemma over and over again.

No response. Not a one. It wasn't like Gemma to not check her phone. I knew something had happened to her. I knew it, and I hated myself for not abandoning Rand. How could I abandon my friend when she needed me? But at the same time, how could I abandon Rand if Gemma was already dead?

Tormented, I paced back and forth in the small hotel room. I kept the packet that she'd given me at hand. The toothpicks were a cute gesture but not super useful considering their size. I could try the holy water, I supposed. Instead, I drank half the bottle and downed (okay, gagged down) the vial of garlic, then brushed my teeth and rinsed with mouthwash over and over again until it no longer smelled on my breath. If everyone was so fired up about drinking from me, well, I'd give them a surprise, wouldn't I?

I'd just have to warn Rand that my blood was currently off-limits.

It wasn't such a bad idea to make myself verboten to him. I'd been grinding against him while Gemma had been confronting murderous vampires. It wasn't my best moment, and I was ashamed that I hadn't thought of her until bedtime. How had I not thought about my best friend? I hoped it was the blood loss and not me just being careless and led by my lust for Rand.

I hoped.

As I waited, I booked train tickets and scanned our bank account, hoping that I was just overthinking things and that charges from the local corner store in Venice would show up on our shared card.

Nothing. No purchases since the night before, when I'd purchased my coffee at the café. The clothing we'd bought for Rand. The hotel room.

That was it. Gemma's presence in the world was a big blank, and it was scaring me.

By the time Rand woke, I was a twitchy, nervous mess. He sat and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and the delicious spicy scent that accompanied him was thicker than ever, signalizing his hunger. He moved closer and kissed my neck. “You smell . . . different.”

“I ate a bunch of garlic,” I admitted to him. “You don't want any of my blood right now.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I should be offended, but I am impressed by your ingenuity. Garlic?”

“Doesn't that work against vampires?”

“As a soporific, yes. You will only make them drowsy.”

“Oh. And I might have done a shot of holy water.”

“I suppose I should be thankful you didn't test it out on me while I was sleeping.”

“The thought did cross my mind,” I admitted. “But I didn't want to hurt you.” I clenched my hands and unclenched them. “Rand, I'm so scared for Gemma. I don't know what to do. I—” I broke off, swallowing hard. I was fighting back tears. Every moment that I wasn't at Gemma's side felt like a brand-new betrayal.

“If they have gone after her, she will be safe.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “There is no benefit to them killing her.”

“Do you really think so?” I clung to the hope.

“I do,” he said, his fingers lacing through mine. I didn't even mind the chill of his skin, because I desperately needed the comfort of his touch. “If they keep her alive, she produces blood. And they know if they keep her alive, we will come after her. They get nothing out of killing her, other than petty revenge.” He shook his head. “If they are looking to bring me forward, they will use her as bait, but they will not kill her.”

I didn't point out that a vampire had nearly chewed a hole in my throat a day or so ago.

Rand knew Guy. If he said he wouldn't kill Gemma, I had to believe him. Had to. “We should leave,” I told Rand. “I have train tickets back to Venice. I can't stand not knowing what happened to Gemma. I'm sure it's a trap, but I don't care.” My fingers tightened against his. “So I hope you understand when I say I have to go, and I'll understand if you want to part ways here.”

He gazed at me for so long that I began to think he'd take me up on it. Which made me feel even worse. I didn't want him to leave, but I felt like I had to offer it. After all, sticking with me had gotten Gemma where, exactly? In trouble. But Rand gave his head a small shake, and his grip tightened on mine. “I am with you.”

I exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

“Venice is along the way to Guy.” He shrugged.

“I . . . oh. Okay.” So it was just convenient for him? I didn't know what to think of that. Then again, it didn't matter. “Let's get going, then.”

As Rand dressed, I thought about all the logistics. Rand would have to feed from someone before we got on the train. Or while on the train, I supposed, though that might make things messy. I'd have to grant him permission to cross water, since it left him writhing in pain otherwise. I'd need to invite him in if I crossed a threshold.

I needed more holy water and garlic.

Traveling with a vampire? Damned inconvenient.

*  *  *

I must have been more exhausted than I thought, because I dozed fitfully on the train. When I awoke, we were nearing Venice, and Rand was warm and flushed with someone else's blood. I didn't ask questions. My mind was on Gemma.

I texted her again, frantic.
Please, please, Gemma. Answer me! 911! 911! I'm about to show up on your doorstep!

No response. There hadn't been a single one, no matter how many times I'd texted her. It made my stomach sink a little more every time, until I felt as if I were dragging it around my feet, along with my hopes that Gemma would be fine and her phone was just dead.

Gemma was many things, but she never forgot her phone. She was hooked to it like a smoker to their lighter.

There could be no explanation other than the other vampires had found her and taken her.

Still, I refused to stubbornly give up hope. I wouldn't believe Gemma was hurt / in danger / dead unless I saw her body myself. She was alive and she was fine. Gemma was sweet and charming and pretty, and she could talk her way out of most things. Everyone who met her adored her. Even if she was captive, she was likely charming them with her wit and her inventive cusswords.

I tried not to think about her having sour-tasting blood.

I trembled as we rode a water taxi back through the canals of Venice. We got off at our “street,” and I rushed to the door of the apartment building. I stepped across the portal, then looked at Rand, who was patiently waiting in the alleyway.

“I invite you to join me inside this doorway,” I told him.

As if an invisible barrier had dropped, Rand entered. We'd gone through this scenario over and over again, to the point that I wondered how anyone was possibly afraid of a vampire, when all they had to do was shut a door in their face. But as I headed back to the second door, the one to the overcrowded, box-filled apartment that belonged to Gemma and me for three more weeks, I thought of Rand's glowing eyes, his hypnotic commands. His imperious expectation of being obeyed.

The way that one vampire had carelessly tried to tear my throat out.

Oh, Gemma.

Stop it, Lindsey,
I told myself. My fingers shook hard as I put the big iron key in the lock and turned it. The door pushed open slowly, creaking. The apartment was dark.

I swallowed hard, not yet stepping across the entryway. “Gemma?”

No response. It was just after midnight; maybe she was asleep. I fumbled for the light switch and flicked it on.

The apartment was trashed.

I sucked in a breath as I surveyed the damage. Torn boxes were scattered along the marble tiles, and shattered dishes covered the floor. One red bowl I remembered Gemma lovingly packing now sparkled in a hundred pieces at my feet.

My stomach gave a sick lurch. “Gemma,” I bellowed, pushing forward. “Gemma, are you here?”

“Lindsey,” Rand hissed behind me. “Don't go in alone! Call me in to enter! I cannot follow unless invited!”

“Right! Whatever! Come in already!” I cried, even as I rushed down the narrow hall in search of my missing friend. “Gemma! Answer me!”

A heavier body grabbed me from behind and threw me against one of the plaster walls. It was Rand, his eyes flashing that eerie green instead of the normal blue. “Lindsey,” he whispered. “If there is someone still here, you must let me go first so I can protect you.”

“But—” I began.

His gaze on mine, he reached for his belt and brandished a knife a moment later.

“Can I have one?” I said at the sight of it.

“Take this one,” he told me. “I have another. And stay behind me.”

I nodded, grasping the hilt. My heart pounded. I prayed I wouldn't have to use it, but at least I had some sort of weapon.

And garlic blood, I reminded myself. If anyone took a bite out of me again, they were going to get a surprise. It might mean I would die, too, but at least I'd go down swinging.

Hopefully.

Rand stalked forward into the crowded apartment, pulling his other blade from his belt. He stopped and scented the air. “Two strangers and Gemma.”

“Still here?” I asked, feeling a little panicky.

He gave a soft shake of his head. “Scents are old, but they could be false.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how one made a scent false, when Rand disappeared into one of the rooms. I peeked in behind him. Equally trashed, days of hard work down the drain. Whoever had come in looking for Gemma—
or me, or Rand,
my brain whispered—had wanted to make a statement.

“No one in this room,” Rand said, then shut the door behind him. “We'll eliminate all possibilities first, just in case someone is hiding.”

I swallowed hard and stuck close to his back. “You could tell by scenting the room?”

“No scents, no sounds, no taste.”

“Taste?” I asked.

“Vampires leave a taste of old blood on the mouth, like a trail,” he explained, heading for the next door. “It's like a stain of their last victim soaking the air. I can feel it on my tongue.”

Wow, that sounded . . . gross. I supposed it was handy if it helped him find other vampires, though.

Room by room we went through the apartment, checking the bedrooms next. Everything looked in order, right down to the messy bedsheets. Gemma never made the bed. The sight of them gave me a terrible pang of grief.
Be safe, Gemma. Please be safe.

Last was the dining room. I swallowed hard, wondering if we'd see the secret door sealed and intact. Maybe Gemma had hid herself . . .

My hopes were dashed the moment we went in. The dining room was destroyed, two feet of debris covering the floor. The secret door hung open. “How is this even possible?” I asked as Rand approached the secret door. “How can someone destroy so much? This must have taken them hours. And for what?”