Dead and Kicking (14 page)

“What could they want with
them?” Tess asked.

Isaac shook his head. “Joanne did not
have that information.”

I was getting a sick feeling in the
pit of my stomach. “I have a very bad
feeling about this. We need to get
home.”

“Why?
What are you thinking?” Tess
asked anxiously. I shook my head. I didn’t want to put words to my suspicions
until I checked something out.

My suspicions, unfortunately, proved
right. When we arrived back at the
firehall, I went straight to the computer and asked Bryce to replay the
security video one more time. I watched
it again with Isaac, paying close attention to the victim. The man was dressed poorly, his clothes worn. When the point came in the video when the
blindfold was removed, Isaac nodded.
“Yes, you are correct,” he said, confirming my fears. “That is one of the men that Joanne saw being
enticed into the white van.”

“We have to call Nash,” Tess stopped
her pacing and looked at me. “People are
being kidnapped right off the street and then murdered. The police will have to help us now.”

“And tell them what?” I
wondered. “We don’t have any proof. Unless you think they will consider a vampire
mind-meld with a bag lady proof?”

“That’s why we have to tell
Nash. He’ll believe us.” Tess flopped down on the sofa beside me. She put her head on my shoulder. “What if we’re too late?”

“No.
We can’t think like that. We’re
not too late. We’ll find her.” I gave
her a hug, trying not to think the worst myself. I didn’t want to face the thought that Holly
might already be dead, murdered to help create DiCastro’s
zombie army. “We just have to find DiCastro. We don’t
need the police when we have Bryce.” As
far as I was concerned, it was true. We
already had Bryce searching for the van’s registration in the DMV database as
well as doing a property search for any buildings listed under the name DiCastro or any variant of the name.

“You just want to avoid Nash.” Tess
said with a scowl, folding her arms across her chest.

“So what if I do? We don’t need him bossing us around,” I
replied belligerently. I was probably a bit
harsh with Tess, mainly because I was angry at myself for the way the thought
of seeing Nash again made me feel.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too
much,” Isaac mused.

“Shut up, you,” I growled at
him. I hadn’t forgotten the fact that he
could read my emotions, which, when it came to Nash, were a mess. I certainly didn’t need Isaac interpreting
them for me. I ran a hand through my
hair in frustration. “Look, when we find
where Holly has been taken, we’ll get the police involved. Until then, I really don’t think there is
anything they’ll do that we can’t, if they even do anything at all. It hasn’t been 48 hours yet. They probably wouldn’t even let us file a
missing persons report.” I gave Tess another comforting hug. “We’re going to find her,” I promised.

“Okay.” Tess hugged me back
tightly. “I’m just really worried about
her.”

“I know. Me too.” I took a deep breath. “Okay then.
You and Bryce keep checking for real estate that could be DiCastro’s. I have
an errand I have to run.”

“An errand? Now?”

“Yeah. That phone call earlier
was the Magister. I’ve been summoned.”

Tess turned to look at Isaac. “And you’re just going to let her go back
there? I thought you were supposed to be
looking after her safety.”

Isaac cocked an eyebrow. “I am.”

Tess frowned. “So what you aren’t saying is that it would
be more dangerous for her not to go?”

Isaac shrugged. “Salvador gets what he wants one way or
another. The safer road is to not antagonize
him.”

“Great. Let’s go and get this stupid renegotiation
done then.” I started to pull on my
jacket.

Tess looked at me critically. “You’re going to go see him like that?”

“What’s wrong with what I have
on?” I wore my favourite boot cut jeans,
a t-shirt and hoodie. I had wrapped a
fringed scarf around my neck and was pulling on my light brown, bomber style
leather jacket to keep away the cold.
The evening air can be pretty nippy here in mid-October. “I’m done with dressing up for him.”

***

I know what you are going to
think. I should just stop making
statements like that, the kind that tempt fate.
Why else would I find myself dressed in that same Alexander McQueen
dress that I had turned down the night before?
I admit it was getting a little tiresome to have to keep eating my
words. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

When we arrived at Dante’s, Isaac and
I were shown upstairs to the balcony overlooking the club. Salvador was already there and when we
entered the room he waved his hand and the vampires and other hangers-on slunk
away leaving us alone with him.

“My dear Miss Russo, Isaac. Come in, come in.” Salvador smiled and patted the seat beside
him. “Please my dear, have a seat.”

After a slight hesitation, I sat down
on the seat Salvador had indicated, trying to maintain as much distance between
us as possible. Isaac took up watch,
standing behind me.

“Magister,” I said by way of
greeting.

“Please, Salvador, you must call me
Salvador. And I will call you
Angharad. Afterall,
we will be seeing so much more of each other in the future.” He gestured and the waiter came over with a
bottle of champagne. He poured two
glasses then retreated out of sight again.

“About that –”

“Please drink,” Salvador
interrupted. He handed me a champagne
glass then lifted his own. “
Salut
! To our new relationship.” He reached over and clinked
his glass against mine.

“Our relationship?” I sat dumbfounded, my champagne untouched. “What relationship?”

“Why, our burgeoning friendship, of
course,” Salvador replied, feigning surprise.
“A friendship that will only continue to grow at our weekly dinners over
the next, shall we say, year?”

“A year! Wait a minute. The deal was one dinner. One time.” I set my champagne glass down.

“Yes, however that deal is no longer
on the table, as you did not live up to the terms of our agreement.” Salvador held up a finger stalling my
protests. “But as I said, I am willing
to renegotiate the terms.”

“Fine, but six
months.
I will meet you once a week, for dinner, for six months.” I couldn’t lose the firehall, if I had to eat
a meal every week with Salvador for six months, so be it.

Salvador appeared to give it some
thought and then smiled. “Nine months,” he countered.

I chewed my lip. I’m sure most people would think I was crazy
for even negotiating with the Magister.
Usually, you just do what he tells you or face the consequences, but for
some reason or another, Salvador was playing this game, so I’d play too. “Nine months, but if you have to cancel a
dinner or I show up and for some reason dinner is interrupted, it still counts
as the one for that week. If I have to cancel, I’ll make it up.”
I thought for a moment. “And, you won’t expect me to dress up like one
of your bimbettes.
I’ll wear what I feel is appropriate.”

“My bimbettes?” Salvador smiled. “Ah, yes.”
He looked at me pointedly. “That
will not be a problem. However, I do
reserve the right to present you with the occasional gift, which you will
accept.”

I huffed out a little breath. “Fine. Deal?”

“One more thing,” Salvador
added. “I will from time to time require
your presence or your assistance in matters pertaining to your particular
talents. This you will also do for me.”

Isaac shifted position behind
me. Now we were getting to what Salvador
really wanted.

I thought for a moment then replied,
“No.” It was my turn to put up my hand
to stall Salvador. “I won’t negotiate
when I don’t know the specifics of what you might ask me to do. But, I will stipulate that I will be open to
providing assistance or attending other, uh, events, as mutually agreed upon at
the time. However, these will count
towards my dinner date balance and I reserve the right to say no.”

Salvador smiled again and sat back in
his seat which only put me more on edge.
My mind reeled. Did I cover all
the bases? I thought I had. Hopefully I wasn’t going to live to regret
this deal, or worse, die because of it.

“I will accept those terms.” Salvador signalled and the waiter refilled
his glass. “We will drink to seal the bargain.” He raised his glass and I followed suit. Salvador clinked his
glass to mine and we drank. The
champagne was probably the most expensive I had ever tasted, but it turned to
bitter acid in my mouth with Salvador’s next words.

“Now you best hurry. Simeen will see you
get dressed.”

“Excuse me?” I spluttered.

“You cannot attend the parley dressed
like a college co-ed.”

“Parley? What parley?”

“Surely you do not want to miss my
meeting with Levy DiCastro?” Salvador looked at me pointedly.

And that’s how I found myself being
dressed and coiffed and painted like some sort of fashion model Barbie doll by
an insolent Simeen, the domanatrix. My life had definitely veered off into the
land of strange.

***

With one last blast of hairspray, Simeen announced I was ready.
“Wow,” I said when she turned the chair so I could look at myself in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself.
She had applied make-up in such a way that it
accentuated my eyes and cheekbones, but looked like I was really wearing no
make-up at all. She even managed to tame
my usually tousled, short hair into something resembling a hairstyle.

She shrugged and replied with a
sneer, “I could only do so much with what I had.” She picked up a beautiful crystal bracelet
and snapped it on my wrist. “You will
wear this. Now get dressed.” She turned and stalked out of the room,
stopping in the doorway to add, “Wait here for your escort. Do not roam around
the halls on your own.” She pulled the
door shut behind her, leaving me alone.

I scrambled out of my remaining
clothes and pulled on the gorgeous McQueen dress. Its charcoal silk chiffon was
almost weightless and floated around me like the smoke it was patterned
after. The bodice had built in support
so luckily I didn’t have to worry about finding a strapless bra. I was just struggling to get the zipper up,
when there was a knock at the door.

I shuffled across the room holding
the dress together at the back so that I didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction. I assumed it would be Isaac come to escort me
to whatever we were calling this shindig, but when I opened the door Nash stood
there, an impatient look on his face.
For a moment, we both stood and looked at each other in surprise. I barely recognized him, dressed as he was in
a slim-fit, dark charcoal suit. It fit
him perfectly with just a hint of cuff showing at the end of each sleeve. His shirt and tie were also the same shade of
charcoal and the lapels of his jacket had a satin finish, giving him a formal
appearance. He looked at me with his
piercing green eyes and suddenly I felt self-conscious.

“O-oh, it’s you,” I stammered,
backing away from the door to let him in.
“I guess I was expecting Isaac.”

Nash stepped into the room, shutting
the door behind him. “No, you’re stuck
with me. DiCastro
knows Isaac and it would only draw his attention to you if you were seen with
him.”

“What’s going on Nash? Why is DiCastro
coming here? Why is Salvador just
letting him walk in here after everything he has
done?” Simeen
had refused to even talk to me, let alone answer any of my questions. With Nash’s arrival, I couldn’t seem to keep
myself from babbling them all out. “He
has Holly. I’m sure of it. We shouldn’t be dressing up to greet him, we
should be grabbing him and getting him to tell us what he has done with all the
people he’s kidnapped.” The worry and
anger I felt were apparent in my voice.

Nash took a step towards me and
reached out to me reassuringly. “I know
about Holly. Tess told me what you found
out. Damn vampire politics. DiCastro invoked
the right to parley and Salvador granted it.
There’s nothing we can do to him right now. But I promise you, once it’s over, all bets
are off. We’ll stop DiCastro
and we’ll do everything we can to get Holly back safely.”

Nash’s hand on my bare arm felt warm,
making my skin tingle. We stood for a
moment like that, until I remembered I was standing there with my dress
unzipped. I blushed and turned my back
to Nash. “Can you help me? The zipper is stuck.”

Nash’s fingers brushed against my
bare shoulder as he pulled the zip up the last few inches. When the zipper reached the top, he dipped
his head towards my neck and inhaled deeply.
I jumped away, turning to look at him.

“Why do you keep sniffing me like
that?” I asked

“I…”
Nash look embarrassed.

“You did that when we first met too,”
I continued on, ignoring Nash’s stammering.

Nash looked uncomfortable for a
moment as if weighing whether to answer or not.
Finally, he huffed out a breath and then said, “My wolf likes the way
you smell.”

“What?” I stepped further away from
him. “I don’t smell.” I fought the urge to lift my arm and check.

Nash put out his hand to stop
me. “That came out wrong. Of course you don’t smell. I mean your scent. My wolf is attracted to your scent.”