Dalton, Tymber - Brimstone Blues [Brimstone Vampires 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (37 page)

The assistant hurried out the door while Gerard looked at the head on his desk. Yet another one who’d failed him. He made examples, he didn’t screw around with pep talks. Fear was a great motivator in his line of work, and the only way to keep some of these people in line. Besides, it showed them they were working for what would eventually be the winning team.

And what price would be paid by the losers.

* * * *

As Taz spent more time talking with Rafe, she pulled farther away from Matthias. It was one of those paradoxes that the longer she let the situation continue the stronger she felt, but the harder it was to confess. How did you explain something like this?

She could only imagine how that conversation would start. Hey, Matthias, wait’ll you hear this! This is a hoot. I know you thought Rafe was dead, but he’s not, he’s stuck inside my brain!

Yeah, right.

Despite her promises to spend some time at home after their return from London, Taz escaped to the office every chance she got. Her drive was uninterrupted time she could spend with Rafe without fear of discovery. There was also the matter of falling into Rafe’s mental arms every chance she got, fueling her guilt and descent into an inescapable cycle. She felt bad, she went to talk to Rafe, which invariably led to other things. Leaving her feeling guilty and unable to get closer to Matthias, leading her to go talk to Rafe…

Did she really want to get free?

This went on for nearly two weeks after their return from London. One afternoon at work, Taz stared at her computer without seeing the words on the screen. Eventually she gave up trying. She knew Matthias was in his office, and she wanted to get out of there without him noticing, if possible.

She packed her things.

“When’s my funeral?”
Rafe asked. He’d been quiet most of the day.

“I don’t know. I haven’t planned it yet.”
She didn’t want to do it, but didn’t want anyone else doing it, either.

It was hard to ignore him.
“
It needs to happen.”

“I know.”

“You always say that when you don’t want to deal.”

“I don’t want to do it right now, okay?”

“It has to be done. Keep my ashes if you want, but have a service. People need closure.”

Taz fought her tears. Rafe went quiet for a moment. She finished gathering her things and cautiously glanced down the hall to Matthias’ closed door. Lamplight peeked out from around the closed blinds. He would, inevitably, hear the elevator if she called it. As soon as it opened, he would emerge from his office, meaning a long, torturous ride alone with him down to the parking garage.

But the stairwell door was quiet.

Taz carefully opened the door and walked down one flight, where she caught the elevator. She didn’t bother calling the valet booth for her car in case they’d notify Matthias. She started the GT and backed out, making the turn to the exit. As she did she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Matthias emerge from the elevator, looking around.

She breathed a sigh of relief and sped through the post–rush hour traffic to the Crosstown, wanting to get to I-75.

“Why are you running from him, Taz?”

“Because what the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Hey honey, I know you thought Rafe was dead, but I make love to him in my head. How’s that for shits and giggles?’”

Rafael was quiet for several minutes.
“Taz, let me plan the funeral.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me do it. It’s perfect. How many people get to posthumously plan their own funeral?”

“And how are you supposed to do that?”

“Just let me do it.”

She understood what he was asking. Let him take control.

It was very tempting to sit back and let him do that. She wouldn’t have to think, plan.

Grieve.

“Okay.”

* * * *

It was an odd duality. Rafe let her work, she let him plan. They alternated control, and she brought his laptop to the office so he could access his phone and e-mail lists. Rafael was in control one afternoon after lunch when Matthias appeared in her office doorway. She didn’t have time to step forward and take control without Matthias noticing, and hoped Rafe’s mental barrier was enough to keep Matthias out.

“How are you?” Matthias asked.

Rafe nodded. “I’m good. I’ll let you know when the plans are ready. We’ll do it weekend after next, Saturday. I’ve got the place lined up.”

“Easy, Rafe. You’re talking too fast. I don’t talk that fast.”

Rafael swallowed. Now he knew how Taz felt. “I think he’d like this.”

Matthias sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk and Taz considered putting up an extra barrier until she realized Matthias wasn’t probing him—her.

Them.

“Are you all right, Taz?”

Rafael nodded. “Peachy.”

“Too much snark, Rafe.”

“I’m fine,” he quickly added. He still wasn’t used to a woman’s voice coming out of his mouth. Her mouth. In his mind, his voice still sounded like him.

“Taz,” Matthias said, “I’m worried about you.”

Rafael refused to meet Matthias’ gaze, afraid his cousin would see the truth. If Taz wanted this secret kept, he would help her. “I’m fine. Just dealing.”

“I’m worried about us.”

Rafael closed his eyes and resisted the urge to pull back and let Taz step forward. Matthias was too close and too powerful. There was no way he couldn’t notice the shift. “There’s nothing to worry about, Matts–thias.”
Dammit!
That slipped. Taz never called him anything but Matthias. Or big guy.

Matthias’ eyes narrowed for a moment. “Taz, I’m concerned. I’ll be honest, I don’t think this is healthy for you to have this obsession.”

“What obsession? I’m planning a funeral. I thought you’d be happy you didn’t have to do it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Matthias stood, to Rafael and Taz’s immense relief. “I do appreciate it.” He walked out and Rafael pulled back immediately and let Taz take charge. She fought her tears and rushed to close and lock her office door. She needed time to regain her composure.

“That was too close, Rafe,” she whispered, leaning against the door.

“I know, baby girl. I’m sorry.”

* * * *

Rafe told Taz what to pack after an hour of making her try on outfits in the mirror for him one afternoon when Matthias wasn’t home. Tight black jeans, a purple tank top he loved on her—topped by one of the shirts she’d taken from his closet.

“It’s not very funereal, Rafe.”

“I don’t care. I like it on you.”
She would wear it. After all, it
was
his funeral.

She closed her eyes, and he met her in their mental room, putting his arms around her and kissing the back of her neck, melting her.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he whispered, kissing her again, and she pressed against him, pulling his arms tighter around her.

In the bedroom she stood in front of the mirror, hugging herself, eyes closed.

In her mind, Rafael turned her to face him. “You don’t know what you do to me, Taz. You’re amazing.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then why don’t you show me.”

An hour later she was asleep on the bed, and in her mind Rafael lay next to her, propped up on one elbow, looking down at her. This was wrong, so wrong on so many levels. She was Matthias’ fiancée. He had no right to do this to her, or to Matthias. But dammit, he loved her, and she loved him, even if she couldn’t really have him. She wasn’t Catydid anymore, no. By all rights he should leave and let her have her life with Matthias.

But he wanted her. Even though he really couldn’t have her, he wanted her.

* * * *

The morning they left for Atlanta for the funeral, Taz drove the GT. Correction, Rafael drove. Taz pulled back after getting into the car, letting Rafael take control. He stroked the steering wheel and smiled. “I love this car, Taz baby. You have no idea how glad I am you have it.”

“It’s a sweet ride.”

“You betcha, baby girl.” She’d worn sneakers for him. He didn’t care if it was her body, he couldn’t drive in heels. Could barely walk in the damn things. She—he—would change to dress flats before the funeral.

Matthias drove his 1968 Mustang, Tobias riding shotgun. Albert and Tim brought up the rear of their little convoy. They quit trying to keep up with Taz after five minutes, not knowing it was Rafael’s lead foot on the accelerator. It took them an hour longer to reach the hotel in Atlanta. Rafael was already checked in, and a good thing, too. When asked his name, he stumbled.

“Rafael Collins.”

The clerk looked up, startled. Rafael tried what he hoped was an apologetic smile. “Ah, ha ha. Um. Sorry, Anastazia Proctor. I’m here for Rafael Collins’ funeral.”

The clerk nodded and Rafael had to suffer Taz’s laughter in his head.

“Now you know what I go through, mister.”

“Shut up, baby girl.”

* * * *

Taz sat back and watched the funeral on a TV screen inside of Rafael’s room. She never imagined so many people would be there.

“I know a lot of people
,
”
he said.
“
Lived a lot of years.”

“So many women.”

He’d let her into his mind, but not everywhere. Fair was fair, after all. Taz understood why these women fondly remembered rakish Rafael. He’d used his vampire voodoo to make them want to break up with him. As far as they remembered, they’d all parted friends with him.

“That’s very…weird of you.”

“Hey, I didn’t want to hurt anyone. If I thought someone was falling in love with me, I backed off and made them want to dump me for whatever reason. I didn’t want anyone pining over me.”

“Looks like they miss you anyway.”

The pictures were a hit. Groups of people looking over them and lots of laughter. Taz was surprised by the video. Rafe must have done that when she was asleep. Set to several Jimmy Buffett songs, it was a montage of photos that sent most of the audience into rolling laughter, punctuated by tearful smiles.

Matthias knew many of the guests and found himself pulled in too many directions to stay with Taz. He asked Tobias to keep an eye on her because Tim and Albert were busy with the many Clan and Tribunal members who’d arrived.

Matthias didn’t have time to wonder how Taz knew to get in touch with all these people.

* * * *

Tobias shadowed her for the better part of an hour. Taz seemingly knew everyone, talking to them, introducing herself as if they had simply forgotten her. Everyone welcomed her.

One distraught-looking young woman walked in alone. Taz homed in on her like a missile. Tobias stayed within listening range.