The Vampire's Seduction (38 page)

“But we vampires can’t make babies.”

“No shit.” I hated when Olivia treated me like I had the IQ of a clam. “Go on.”

“In our case, the males still contribute their creative potential, but instead of nurturing a new life, the female takes it as a surge of pure power, and it still binds the male to her.”

“So the more sex a female vamp has with male vamps, the stronger she gets? That sucks.”

Olivia smiled. “Sucking doesn’t count.” She tweaked my semi-hard unit. “Now you, as I said before, are backward. When we did it, I didn’t gain your power; instead, you took some of mine and bound me to you.”

“Really?” Now that was more like it. “So you have to do what I say?”

“Not hardly.” Olivia sniffed. “We only did it once.” When I didn’t respond she added, “But it does connect us—that’s why you could get me away from Reedrek.” She kissed me sweetly on the lips but didn’t touch me otherwise. “I thank you for that.”

I didn’t feel so bad about the backward thing anymore. But I never would’ve known any of this if William had had his way.

“So if the females are so powerful, why do they have to hide?”

Olivia’s good humor disappeared. “Because sometimes a male will resent a female draining his power and will eventually kill her to be free. Unless she outsmarts him. Luckily, males being how they are, this is not difficult.”

“Oh” was all I could think of to say.

The hot water was beginning to cool.

Since Olivia didn’t seem interested in washing the family jewels, I removed the sponge from her hand and took care of it myself. She washed her hair, then mine, and in the process we both got lathered and cleaner than we needed to be. It was almost a relief not to have to be Romeo after the days and nights I’d had lately.

“There, don’t you feel better now?” she asked as she dried my back.

I did feel better but I was still pissed enough not to want to admit it. “Maybe,” I answered.

With a huff of a laugh she dried herself off and put on the clothes Melaphia had set inside on the counter. Eleanor was on her second cup of tea and looking a little more together when we reentered the kitchen. I could feel the sun, less than an hour away. My mind buzzed with new information. I could’ve fallen asleep on my feet.

“Melaphia has explained that William is out of contact but he’ll be at the hospital benefit ball,” Eleanor said, but a pained expression crossed her face. “After what happened at my house I didn’t know what to do. That man—that terrible man took him. William told me to stay inside but the fire has made that impossible.”

“Fire?” I said.

“Her house is gone,” Melaphia answered.

Eleanor left her tea at the counter and moved to stand in front of me. “Please tell him—” In the rumor mill she’d been painted as a woman who seldom lost control. She had that whole dominatrix thing going for her. But here, now, she drew in a shaky breath. “Please take care of him,” she asked with pleading eyes.

Guilt felt like a fist in my throat before anger blotted it out.
Take care of him? Like he’s taken care of me?
Of course, the sire I thought I knew had never asked for my help or care. Instead he’d practically treated me like a child.

I just nodded.

Melaphia took my arm and steered me toward the stairs to the vault. “I’ll call Iban and tell him the news, and I’ll send Reyha and Deylaud to walk Lady Eleanor back to her hotel as soon as the sun comes up. You need to get some sleep.” She looked past me to Olivia. “You too. We all have to be prepared for tomorrow night.”

I dreamed of sugar and spice and everything nice . . . meaning Connie. She was definitely spice. In the dream I was a vampire prince to her Cinderella Jones. We were dancing under a blood-colored hunter’s moon; she was in my arms, smiling up at me as if she wanted to see nothing in the world but my face. To hell with William and the rest of the world. I pulled her closer to smell her hair and she nuzzled my neck. I felt the sharp sting of teeth and realized her intention. She belonged to William, not to me, and she wanted my blood. I was in just the mood to give her a little taste.

William

It seemed to take forever for Reedrek to drift off to sleep. Outwaiting him nearly did me in. Werm’s transformation was complete and Reedrek had allowed him to feed from me before rechaining him to the wall. As a fledgling, he needed a real meal, and, because I was his sire, his first feeding would bolster us both. But we’d have to wait until the sun went down. Until Reedrek took Werm hunting.

For now, most of my newly acquired strength had been spent. Between healing my wounds and fighting for Jack’s mind I’d used nearly everything. No holding back. But I hoped I had one more surge left, enough to go to Jack, at least to warn him.

Reedrek shifted, snoring, knocking a few old bones off the shelf he’d usurped from a long-dead human. The bones made a splash in the water and I waited. The snores continued. I settled my mind, calming my thoughts. With closed eyes and a deep breath I pictured the vault below my house, Jack’s black-and-silver coffin.

Then I went in search of Jack.

The air shifted around me but I held my concentration. A jolt shuddered through my mind, and I found myself looking down at the number three painted on Jack’s coffin. I seemed to be floating in the air above it.

“Jack?” In my out-of-body state I wasn’t sure if I could wake him.

Nothing moved—no sounds came from within. I redoubled my effort. “Jack, where are you?” Another flurry rustled like wind in leaves through my mind. Then I saw him: he was dancing with a woman under a bright, bloodred moon.

“Jack!”

He looked up and the woman disappeared as though his will was the only thing that held her there. The music still played but Jack stood with open, empty arms, staring at the spot she’d occupied.

“What the hell?” He lowered his arms, then stomped over to me. “Why the hell are
you
here?” he asked. He looked back, checking to see if his partner had reappeared. “Why can’t you leave me alone, even in my dreams?”

“We have to speak about Reedrek. He’s lying to you, he’ll—”

“Like you’re always telling me the truth?”

“It’s not the same—”

Jack laughed but more with disdain than with amusement. The music stopped. “So, your lies are okay and his are, what? Evil? Is it evil to give me what by rights should have been mine all along?”

I could feel my strength waning—the moon that had been flying high overhead had disappeared. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the knowledge of what I am, what I can do. And the support of a—of a friend.”

I had to hurry. As I watched, Jack began to disappear, fading from the feet up. “No matter what he teaches you or offers you,” I warned, “the one thing he won’t give you is . . . freedom.”

Jack evaporated. I opened my eyes to find Reedrek’s unholy stare glowing through the dark as though he’d heard every word. He chuckled, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Jack

William disappeared from my consciousness as quickly as the beautiful dream of Connie had. Then someone else knocked at the door of my mind. It was Reedrek. I saw him before me all cleaned up, if you can believe it. Thank goodness this dream wasn’t in smellavision.

“Are you ready, Jack?”

“Ready for what?”

“I’m going to show you what could be if you pledge your loyalty to me.”

“What if I don’t want any more mind games?” I mentally steeled myself against him.

“Relax, my boy, you don’t have a thing to lose. Not yet, anyway. This is just a little peep show into the world that could be yours. Enjoy it. Savor it. I’ll be your guide. Think of me as St. Nick, the bringer of Christmas . . . possibilities.”

I felt like I was caught up in a whirlwind, and before I knew it, I was standing on a platform in what looked like . . . Las Vegas. Neon was everywhere, flashing in endless cascading colors up and down the Strip. The lights hurt my sensitive vampiric eyes and I blinked. Behind me was a line of chorus girls decked out in G-strings and feathered, sequined bras. Their elaborate headdresses, not to mention their miles-long legs, made them look seven feet tall. The cleavage alone nearly made my eyes bug out. Reedrek had to grab me by the elbow to turn me toward the front of the platform.

“Behold, Jack.” Reedrek was decked out in a tuxedo with a cape. An honest-to-Pete velvet vampire cape with gold braid and tassels. I had the momentary urge to laugh but the rest of what I saw brought me up short.

Next to us on the platform was a beautiful Chevy Monte Carlo, painted up in black, blue, and silver. With a big number three on the side.

“Dale’s number,” I breathed.

“Yes,” Reedrek said smugly. “The Desert Racing League insisted that you should race with his number, since you’re the DRL’s equivalent of NASCAR’s late, great Dale Earnhardt himself. Oh, and I took the liberty of selecting a nickname for you. What do you think of ‘Dark Knight’? Too corny?”

I looked at the logo on the car.
DARK KNIGHT
was painted in blue Old English letters with a stylized silver knight’s helmet beside it. Actually, it looked pretty hot. In fact, the whole scenario was making me hard. My own state-of-the-art racing setup. But it was impossible. William had told me from the beginning that I couldn’t stay gone from him for any length of time until I reached two hundred. If I ever got that old.

“What are you?” I asked Reedrek. “Colonel Tom Parker to my Elvis?”

“Exactly,” he said, looking delighted. “A particularly apt comparison since we’re here in Las Vegas. I’ll be your manager. I can make the arrangements in the blink of a mortal’s eye. But there’s more to see.” Reedrek pointed toward street level. “I know your weakness for human females.”

What arrangements? Was this guy so powerful he could break the vampire rules? As I looked down I realized that my eyes had become accustomed to the glare, and I saw them—heard them. A couple hundred women of every shape and size thronged below me, squealing my name. “Jaaaaack!” they shouted, looking pleadingly up at me. They were jumping up and down, waving outstretched arms, wiggling and jiggling invitingly. From my lofty vantage point it looked like a sea of painted lips, bouncing breasts, and restless thighs. They all wanted me. I could see it in their eyes. And these were quality women. Las Vegas by God women. Not the frustrated housewives on the make and honky-tonk angels that were my usual speed. There were plenty of those, mind you. But there’s such a thing as quantity versus quality, and here there was plenty of both.

“Hey, now,” I heard myself say. It was then I saw the outer circle just beyond the mob of women. Men standing two and three deep, looking at me with admiration, envy, awe. They wanted to
be
me. Hell, who wouldn’t?

I felt Reedrek’s hand on my shoulder and turned to face him and another man. “Jack, I’d like you to meet a representative from your main sponsor—Buster’s Brewery. They’re going to be working with you to formulate your own brand of beer, specifically tailored to your own tastes and marketed all over the world.”

The man extended his hand and I shook it. “It’s a thrill to meet you, Jack. On behalf of Buster’s I want to welcome you to our corporate family. This is for you.” He held out a sack as big as a pillowcase. Reedrek took it from him and opened it so I could see inside. It was cash. The biggest wad of cash I had ever seen in my life.

“Take it, boy,” Reedrek said. “It’s all for you. It’s your signing bonus.”

“Huh?” I said, stupefied. A closer look revealed that the cash was all in large bills. There must have been a million dollars in that sack.

“Your manager tells me he’s had plans drawn up for your own personal eighteen-wheel motor home. Rumor has it that it’s even fancier than your friend Nightflash’s. Let us know if this isn’t enough to cover it. There’s plenty more where this came from.”

“Over here, Knight!” Four photographers appeared just below us, gesturing for us to prepare for a picture. Reedrek thrust the money sack into my hand and the beer man stuck a cap, emblazoned with the beer company logo and my number, on my head. They positioned themselves on either side of me. “Smile,” another of the shutterbugs said, and rapid-fire electronic flashes stung my eyes.

As the flashes receded, the truth exploded in my reeling head.

Reedrek knew about Tobey.

The beer man just mentioned the Nightflash, and Reedrek mentioned the DRL. The old demon had gotten into my head after all and I hadn’t even realized it. Did that mean he knew about Iban and Gerard, too? I looked sideways at Reedrek. If he was reading my mind right now, he didn’t show it—he was too busy leering at the showgirls and grinning for the camera. What had allowed him to enter my mind? The answer was all around me. It was my envy of Tobey and what he had that I didn’t. It was the green-eyed monster within.

“Can we get a quote?” said a man standing behind the lensmen. He held up a tape recorder. Reedrek nudged me forward.

“I—I’m very happy to . . . to have this fine brewery as my sponsor. I look forward to a long and . . .” I caught the eye of a particularly stunning blonde right below me. She snaked her tongue all around the edge of a pair of perfectly painted, suckable lips. “. . . satisfying relationship,” I finished.

The beer man shook my hand again and retreated to the back of the platform. Then Rennie came up the steps in a black, blue, and silver pit crew uniform, grinning from ear to ear. “Your crew chief has something for you,” Reedrek said. Rennie held a matching driver’s uniform and a racing helmet painted to look like the helm from a knight’s silver suit of armor. I marveled not only at the outfit, but at the look of rapture on my best friend’s face. What if somehow Reedrek could give me the power to make this happen for the little guy? To change his life.

Did Reedrek know how to push my buttons or what? Every single one of them. From my love of racing to my love of women to my love of my human friends. He’d taken these things from my mind when I wasn’t looking.

“Thanks for naming me your crew chief,” Rennie said. A tear of joy made its liquid way underneath one of the thick lenses of his glasses and down the stocky little man’s chubby cheek. “You have no idea what it means to me.” Rennie set the uniform and helmet down on the car and gave me a hug. I patted him awkwardly on his stubbly, crew-cut head. Then he left the platform, eyes streaming.