Between a Vamp and a Hard Place (9 page)

Except cobras were dangerous things on their own, weren't they? And I was just a helpless woman leaning far too close to a sexy predator.

“Just . . . be gentle, all right? And don't take too much.”

“I won't,” he murmured, moving ever so subtly closer. Now he held me in the embrace of a lover, my aching breasts pressed to his chest, my stomach against his, my hands moving over his shoulders. “I shall take great care with you, Lindsey,” he said in a soft voice. “Now that I know how incredibly sweet you taste and how fragile your form is. The last thing I wish is to be prevented from drinking again.”

And he smiled at me. Long white fangs distended, and I watched in entranced fascination as he leaned in. At first I thought he was going to kiss me. My arms went around his neck, but he bypassed my mouth and went for my neck instead.

Rand bit my throat, and I gasped in surprise at the sensation. Not because it hurt—it definitely did—but because I felt the jolt of pleasure it gave me straight through to my core. I couldn't swallow the moan, and as he pressed his tongue against my vein and sucked at my throat, I rubbed my hips against his and tangled my hands in his hair, holding him against me. “My God,” he murmured. “You taste sweeter than anything I've ever had. I thought my memory from before was skewed, but it is you that is impossibly delicious. Why is this so?”

I could only moan in response, shivering as his tongue lapped the blood from my throat.

It seemed he'd barely begun when he reluctantly pulled away, and I stifled a whimper of protest. That was it? That was all I got? Rand's hot gaze devoured me, and I looked up at him, breathless, so full of need. So full of hunger for his body. His lips were soft and wet, and I impulsively pushed my mouth against his.

“Ah, sweet,” Rand whispered. His hand clenched my bottom, dragging me against him, then he pulled my thigh around his. “Come to bed with me, wench. I have other needs that must be sated, too.”

That broke the spell real damn fast. I struggled to pull away from him. “Wait, what? Let go of me!”

He looked surprised at my resistance. “You kissed me.”

“That doesn't mean I want to have sex with you! And you really need to stop throwing around that ‘wench' word, damn it!”

“God give me strength,” he muttered, but he released me.

I straightened my clothing, trying to look as indignant as I felt. Now if only my wobbly knees and alert nipples would play along. “I agreed to feed you. That was it. And I'm not entirely sure why I did that, either.”

“It is because a vampire is irresistible to his prey,” Rand said, straightening his own clothing. His tunic-thing was belted low at his waist, but I could make out a discernible bulge from his erection . . . which was pretty impressive, given the fact that the guy had no pulse. I wondered how that worked with blood flow and all, but I didn't ask. Bad enough that I encouraged the man by kissing him and letting him drink from me.

I swiped a hand at my neck. “I hope you got enough to drink, because the water fountain is closed.”

“It is sufficient for now. I will require more later.”

Over my dead body. My cheeks were hot with humiliation, and I thought of his words.
Come, wench. I have other needs
. What was saddest? I'd wanted to go with him. And here it was all because vampires were sexy to their prey. He didn't want me. He wanted a snack. It was humiliating.

There wouldn't be a later, that was for sure. I was suddenly looking forward to dropping him off at his vampire buddy's and washing my hands of him. “Come on. Let's get you dressed.”

“Dressed?” He eyed my jeans and T-shirt. “In something like that?”

“Not exactly.” I produced the small stack of clothing we'd managed to find that wasn't moth-eaten or entirely too small. It was a Christmas sweater and a pair of warm-up pants, but it'd be better than him walking around in a medieval getup.

Not that a Christmas sweater was going to be much help, but maybe we could get by with “eccentric” instead of “freakish.”

I retrieved Gemma from downstairs, and we talked Rand through how to put the clothing on. Ten minutes later, though, Gemma was giggling and I was blushing.

The pants we'd found for Rand were too short and too tight. From my spot next to Gemma, I could see a clear outline of his, ahem, equipment.

“Looks like he's a shower and not a grower,” she whispered to me. “And not circumcised. Damn. I'm sad I'm the brussels sprouts to your steak.”

I hushed her, cheeks burning, as Rand turned, thoughtful. “Are you sure these are correct?” he asked, tugging at one leg cuff that only went to midcalf. “They seem different from yours.”

“They're track pants,” Gemma said helpfully. “They're supposed to be different.”

“Maybe we'd be better off with him in his regular clothing,” I said. “He's less, um . . .” I tried not to stare at his package. “Obvious.”

“Good point,” Gemma said, a purr in her voice. “Maybe you guys can hit up a clothing store on your way out. Something with a little more room in the crotch.”

I batted her arm, hiding a laugh.

We left the room and Rand changed back. When we returned, he was adjusting his belt, all conspicuous parts covered.

“Shall we go?” I asked him. I was antsy and ready to get moving. I'd choked down a few cookies while he'd changed and I wasn't weak like before, which told me he hadn't taken nearly as much blood. I also hadn't told Gemma, because I didn't want to hear the teasing. “This other vampire's in Rome, right? We'll take a train and I'll be back before you know it.”

“It's five hours from here,” Gemma pointed out. “You guys take a train, then get a hotel room just in case things take longer than anticipated.” She pushed a wad of cash into my hand. “Take your time. I'll hold the fort down here. Just keep your phone on.”

“Are you sure?” I asked her. It was going to be a big deal for both of us. If I went off with the vampire, she'd be the only one left to tackle the mess in the apartment, and it was a daunting job for two people.

“I'm sure,” she told me with a smile and a quick hug. “Get him to his new home, and when our hands are free, we'll get a lot more done. I'll be fine.”

“All right,” I agreed, then turned to Rand. “Ready to go, then?”

He frowned at me imperiously. “Weapons?”

“What do you mean, ‘weapons'?”

“I need weapons if I am to venture out into the city.” He shook his head. “No warrior in his right mind would go about unarmed.”

“Uh, things have changed. You can't carry a weapon out into public. That's a sure sign of attracting attention.”

“I care not if we attract attention.” Rand crossed his arms over his chest. “I refuse to go out defenseless.”

I groaned. “This is clearly going to be an uphill battle—”

“If there is a battle, I am most definitely not going out unarmed!”

“Oh boy,” Gemma said. “He's lucky he's so hot. No guy is worth this much trouble.”

But Rand's concern also had me a little concerned, and as I watched him, I had an idea. “Hey, Rand? There are some great knives in the kitchen that might make decent swords. Why don't you check them out?”

He looked up and nodded, then left the room, heading for the kitchen.

The moment he disappeared, I turned to Gemma. “While we're gone, I need you to do me a favor.”

“What?” Her eyes were big.

“Find out anything you can about vampires. Look up old books if you have to. I need to know more about them—any weaknesses, any strengths, anything to avoid.” I crossed my arms and then drummed my fingers, thinking. “It might help if we found out why someone bought that coffin, too. Check it for a ledger of purchase of some kind?”

She saluted me. “Daphne is on the prowl for clues to the mystery, Velma.”

Great, I got to be Velma in the Scooby-Doo gang. Lucky me. “Just don't say anything to Rand, okay?” I glanced toward the kitchen, where I could hear him rattling about, opening drawers.

If at some point I had to take the guy out, it would be best to have the element of surprise.

A
t my side, Rand pushed his face against the glass window of the train, watching the nighttime scenery whizz past.

“Almost there,” I told him.

“Miraculous,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so the other passengers wouldn't pay attention. Not that he wasn't already drawing a ton of attention. But Italians seemed to keep their distance despite the fact that Rand was dressed like a medieval reenactor and gasped at everything.

He'd gasped as the train had rolled into the station. Gasped at the escalator. Nearly lost his mind at the sight of a TV rolling commercials in the background. He'd jumped at some kid's remote control car. He'd been awed by a popcorn machine. He didn't seem to grasp the concept of cell phones, much less why everyone stared at the screen so much. I didn't let him play with mine, for fear I'd miss a text from Gemma. That, and I was afraid he'd drop it the first time it made a noise.

It was amusing and heartbreaking at the same time to watch Rand. I could tell by the expression on his face that he'd be delighted by a new discovery in one moment and incredibly sad the next, no doubt imagining how much time had passed. He ogled women in short dresses and eyed my cleavage as I sat on the train next to him. He sniffed everything I ate but would touch none of it.

And for the most part, he was silent as everyone around us chattered in Italian. Instead, he just sat and stared out the window as scenery zoomed past, though it was entirely too dark to make anything out.

I had no idea what he was thinking. I tried to imagine how I'd cope in his place, and failed miserably. Six hundred years from now, where would the world be? Would I even want to be around for it?

Did Rand?

My phone buzzed with a text. Gemma had been pinging me all night long with information. I glanced down at the screen and saw a lot of text and an image. While Rand couldn't read the words—at least, I didn't think so—I didn't want to incriminate myself with any pictures on my phone. “Hey, I'm going to go to the restroom. Be right back.”

He pressed his nose to the glass, ignoring me.

Right. I got up and headed down the aisle of the train car, giving an awkward smile here and there to people as I moved past. When I made it to the bathroom, I locked the door, sat down on the seat, and pulled my phone out again.

So far, Gemma had been texting me with various tidbits gleaned from the internet. Unfortunately, most of it we already knew.

Vampires avoided sunlight.

Vampires hated garlic.

Vampires didn't like holy water or crosses.

Vampires couldn't cross running water.

Vampires couldn't enter a home without being invited.

Really, it wasn't all that interesting. As I glanced at her text this time, I wondered what image she'd sent that could possibly be of interest.

Hey bb, found this in ur coffin, along with a bill of lading. I think our peeps were into antiques and that's how ol' Rand got purchased.

The picture was of one of the receipts, and then what looked like an illuminated manuscript page of some kind. The writing was loopy and indecipherable. I squinted at it for a few minutes and then texted her back.
What does it say?

I think it's in old English or something. I typed it into Google Translate and it spit something out at me about freedom being found at the heart of darkness and then something about a burrito.

A burrito??
I sent back.
That has to be a mistranslation.

I know. I tried a different website and got something more along the lines of The heart of the darkness must be destroyed to have freedom. Only the Dragon can give you death's release.

Got it. Thanks, Gem.

I'll ping ya if I find any more goodies! XOXO

The train began to slow, and a voice came over the intercom, smoothly reciting stops in Italian. I pocketed my phone and dashed back to my seat just as the train headed toward the station. “Almost there,” I told Rand again. “Once the train has stopped, we can get out and see about getting a hotel for the night. It might take some time to locate your friend, so it's best to be prepared in case we strike out before dawn.”

“Mmm.” He ran a finger down the glass window, watching the smear he left behind with fascination.

Only the Dragon can give you death's release.
I considered that, gazing at Rand's shaggy, handsome head. Dragons weren't real, but then again, I hadn't thought vampires were either. God, I
hoped
dragons weren't real and it was just a clever euphemism for the Black Plague or something cheery like that. “So what's this friend's name?” I asked Rand. “Is he medieval like yourself? Or older?” It felt impolite to ask, but the thought of being around someone that was as old as Rand and hadn't been asleep for the last six hundred years disturbed me. What would he be like? I'd seen how ruthless Rand could get when he was hungry, how I'd reacted when he'd turned his charm on me. What would that be like around a truly old vampire? I shuddered to think. “And how do you know this friend will be happy to see you?”

“I imagine much has changed in six hundred years, but I know William and Frederic will remain the same,” he said. “Even Guy.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Three vampires? We're looking for three?”

He shrugged. “There were four of us, originally. The Dragon's Claws, we were called.”

I froze at the mention of “dragon.” “Dragon's . . . claws?”

“Aye. Myself, William, Frederic, and Guy. We were four young knights, plucked from the ranks of obscurity to fight alongside the Dragon. He made us
upyri,
trained us as warriors, and turned us into his personal assassins. And while we might have resented the Dragon for controlling our lives, we bonded together, my brothers and I. If one yet lives, he will be happy to see me.”