About a Vampire (10 page)

“No doubt they've learned better from their time with you,” Anders said mildly.

Gia considered that and then nodded with a slow grin. “No doubt.”

“Don't worry,” Decker said now, slapping Justin on the shoulder. “Anders and I will help you out. We'll advise you on how to woo your Holly.”

Justin gaped at the man with dismay, horrified at the very prospect. Decker and Anders giving him advice on women?

“Don't be a smartass,” Anders growled. “Even in your head.”

“Yeah,” Decker agreed with a scowl. “We both have life mates; we've learned from them what women like. We can help.”

“Dear God,” Justin muttered. He then sank down in a seat and laid his head on the kitchen table with a miserable sigh.

 

Six

“F
oot rubs?” Justin echoed with disbelief.

Decker nodded. “Dani likes it when I rub lotion into her feet while we watch television.” He paused and pursed his lips briefly, and then added, “Mind you, that usually leads to rubbing her calves, and then her thighs and . . . On second thought, perhaps you should stay away from foot rubs,” he decided.

Justin sagged back in his seat with disappointment and the men fell silent briefly.

“The bath,” Anders suddenly said.

Justin raised his head with disbelief. “What?”

“If I know Valerie intends to bathe, I will slip into the bathroom ahead of her to start the water running and set out a clean towel and washcloth for her,” he explained. “It takes but a moment, and she thinks I am the most considerate of men and gives me a grateful kiss.” He paused, suddenly frowning. “Of course, that kiss usually leads to another, and then another and the next thing you know we are both naked in the bath, and—­”

“I think it's probably better you don't run a bath for her either,” Decker interrupted.

Anders paused, cleared his throat, and then tugged at the collar of his T-­shirt and nodded. “Yes. Stay away from the bath business.”

Justin hung his head in misery. The two men had been “helping” him for several minutes now, each coming up with a suggestion of something thoughtful and considerate that they did for their life mate. Unfortunately, each thoughtful endeavor had invariably led to sex and the suggestion that the action should be avoided rather than used. In other words, they weren't helping at all.

“You men,” Gia said on a laugh. She shook her head and then said to Decker and Anders, “You are obviously good men and treat your women well, but—­” She turned to Justin. “The simplest thing for you to do is to talk to her. Find out what she likes, what her interests are, and go from there.”

“Gia?”

They all turned to glance toward the door at that uncertain call from the hall.

“In here,
piccola
,” Gia responded.

“I'm not sure this outfit is quite me. I—­Oh,” Holly interrupted herself as she reached the doorway and noted the occupants of the room. Her gaze slid from Gia to Decker and Anders. She eyed them with a brief curiosity and then her gaze continued on to Justin, and he fancied there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes when they settled on him.

“The outfit is perfect,
piccola
,” Gia pronounced, moving toward Holly to take her hand and hold it up. “Turn for me.”

Holly flushed, but turned on the spot as instructed.

Once their eyes broke contact, Justin turned his attention to the outfit and now his eyes widened incredulously. Gia had given her another red top to wear, one that hung off one shoulder and reached down to her thighs, barely. It was belted at the waist over black tights.

“That's not a damned outfit, Gia. It's half of one at best. Where's the rest of it?” he asked with dismay. “Where are her pants?”

“Those
are
the pants,” Gia said with amusement, brushing a bit of lint off Holly's lower thigh.

“They're panty hose,” Justin protested.

“They're tights and are worn as pants in today's fashion,” she lectured.

“I think they're cute,” Decker complimented, grinning at Holly.

Justin scowled at him and then insisted, “At least give her one of those hankies you call skirts so she can feel half decently dressed.”

Gia shrugged and waved Holly toward the door. “If you'd rather she wear a skirt than the tights, I guess I can—­”

“With the tights,
with
the tights,” he growled and thought,
Dammit, I need a skirt myself to hide the effects that Holly is having on me.

“Yes, you do,” Anders said. His expression was solemn, but Justin was sure there was amusement twinkling in his dark eyes.

Justin scowled at him, and then quickly moved to stand behind the table to hide the erection he'd sprouted as Holly started to follow everyone's amused glances to his groin.

“Skirt or tights, but not both,” Gia said firmly. “Which will it be?”

Justin scowled at her, and then dropped to sit in the chair Decker caught with one ankle and shifted toward him.

“Just . . . Fine, whatever,” he muttered in defeat and lowered his head to try to concentrate on making his erection go away. Damn. It was going to make things difficult if this problem kept popping up.

Decker suddenly laughed. “Good one.”

Justin peered at him blankly, not understanding, and it was Anders who said, “Popping up? Either a perfect, or unfortunate, turn of phrase, I think.”

Justin closed his eyes and shook his head, wondering when he had become the grown-up. Usually he was the one cracking jokes and—­

“Gia says I have to stay here for training.”

Justin raised his head to find that Holly had crossed the room to stand beside him. He hesitated and then nodded solemnly. “It's for the best.”

She pursed her lips, obviously displeased. “How long will it take?”

He shrugged helplessly. “It's different for different ­people.”

“Right,” she said grimly and he could see that she was gritting her teeth. “Gia said something about two weeks.”

“Well, yes, your family and acquaintances have been given a cover story to allow for two weeks. But we can extend it if necessary,” he assured her.

“Extend it?” Holly squawked and then snapped her mouth closed. She seemed to be building up a good head of steam with her thoughts and he was just wishing he could read them and know what to expect, when she suddenly relaxed and dropped to sit in the chair next to him with a little sigh. Shaking her head, she muttered, “We were supposed to go out with Elaine and Bill tomorrow night. I guess I'm not going to make it.”

“No,” Justin agreed.

“And I'll be out two weeks' pay and two weeks of classes,” she added unhappily and shifted in her chair.

“Yes,” Justin agreed, guilt plucking at him.

“But at least you're alive to miss it,” Gia pointed out. “If Justin hadn't turned you, you wouldn't be.”

“Right,” Holly muttered and offered him an apologetic, “Sorry. I do appreciate that, I guess.” She didn't sound overly certain on that point and seeming to realize it herself, smiled at him crookedly and said, “I'm sorry, but I'm a little unclear on exactly what happened to make you turn me. I mean, I know you explained this to me in the hotel. At least I think you did, but I'm afraid I—­”

“Thought I was a lunatic so wasn't paying attention?” Justin suggested wryly.

“Basically,” she acknowledged apologetically, blew out a breath and then said, “If I recall, I think you said I was running with scissors and fell?”

Justin nodded.

“Why was I running?” she asked. “You said I misunderstood something. What was it?”

Justin grimaced and glanced from Anders and Decker to Gia, but there was no help there. Sighing, he said, “Anders and I were in the crematorium. It scared you.”

“Why?” she asked with a frown. “Your just being there wouldn't scare me. So, you must have been doing something that scared me,” she reasoned, and then tilted her head. “What was it?”

Justin shifted uncomfortably. It was pretty early on for him to have to explain this. She would be horrified, he was sure. “I'm an Enforcer.”

“What is that?” she asked at once.

“It's basically an immortal police officer. We go after rogues, which are immortals who break our laws,” he explained.

“Rogue Hunter,” she murmured and he thought Gia must have mentioned the term to her.

“Yes, we're sometimes called Rogue Hunters because that is the most important part of our job, hunting down rogues, or immortals who have broken our laws.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “And what were you doing at the crematorium? Is John Byron an immortal? Were you after him?”

“No. John Byron is mortal,” he assured her. “Actually, we had already caught our rogues.”

“More than one?” she asked curiously.

Justin nodded. “This time it was a group. Sometimes it's just one rogue. Other times . . .” He shrugged. “We've had to go into nests of twenty and thirty rogues on occasion. This time there were only a dozen or so in the nest, but they were bad ones. Their leader was old and quite mad, but his turns were all mortals of a criminal nature. He apparently made a practice of turning sadistic, conscienceless men who were angry, nasty fellows happy to torment and rip out the throats of mortals . . . and for pleasure, not to feed on.”

Holly frowned at his description and shook her head. “I haven't heard anything on the news about ­people getting their throats ripped out in town.”

“They lived in the foothills,” Justin explained. “A small town about an hour away from your own and there were no bodies found, no murders reported, just a ­couple of locals going missing. The majority of their kills were tourists driving through with no way to be sure where they had actually gone missing from.” He paused briefly and then continued, “We went into the nest, tried to take them peaceably to present them to the council for judgment, but they weren't interested. They fought, we won, and we were disposing of their bodies when you came upon us in the crematorium.”

“Disposing of their bodies?” she asked with dismay.

“They were immortals. We can't allow our dead to land in the hands of mortals. If they autopsied them . . .” He shrugged. “All our dead are cremated quickly to prevent that risk.”

“Cremated,” Holly murmured as a memory of a head lying in a pool of blood on the floor came to mind. In that memory, she saw Justin, she also saw—­her gaze slid to Anders, and she recalled his picking up the head by the hair and tossing it into the retort like a bowling ball. She clearly recalled it wobbling its way into the flames.

“She's remembering,” Anders warned in a low tone.

“I think I'm going to be sick.” Holly heard the words, but was so disassociated at that moment that it took a count of ten before she realized that they'd come from her.

“Okay,” Gia was suddenly there beside her, lifting her to her feet with a hand under her arm. It didn't seem like more than a heartbeat later that she found herself in a bathroom, on her knees in front of a porcelain bowl. How the hell had they got there so quickly?

“We're fast,” Gia answered the unspoken question as she brushed the hair back from her face. “Take deep breaths. It will help.”

Holly took deep breaths.

“You remember everything now,” Gia murmured.

Holly nodded and took another deep breath. Yep, she remembered it all. The stacked-­up bodies, the head, the headless body they threw in after it. That one made her stomach roll over again and she leaned her head on the cold porcelain, trying to breathe slowly. But she was wondering why they had all been beheaded.

“It's one of the few ways to kill our kind—­decapitation or fire,” Gia said quietly, rubbing her back. “Lucian, Anders, Decker and Bricker were up against three times their number. They couldn't afford to merely maim or wound. The rogues would have simply healed quickly and continued to battle. Besides, they weren't sure there weren't others there in hiding. Quick, efficient death blows were necessary.”

“Right,” Holly breathed, her mind already moving on to her reaction to the sight of those bodies. Her terror, running . . .

“I stabbed Justin in the throat,” she realized with dismay. Jeez, and she'd thought just trying to rip his throat out had been bad.

“Slashed, I'd say from the memory I read,” Gia said conversationally. “And he healed.”

“Right,” Holly breathed. Because he was a vampire.

“Immortal,” Gia corrected gently.

“Right,” Holly repeated, not really caring what they wanted to call it. But then her brows drew together on her forehead and she said, “I remember him leaning over me in the dark. The ground was cold beneath me. The night sky a hazy starless mist behind him.”

“And you had those scissors buried in your chest,” Gia nodded, apparently still picking up her thoughts.

“I was dying. I knew it,” she whispered. “And I was so scared.”

“But instead, he turned you,” Gia said soothingly.

“Yes.” Holly breathed, recalling how fangs had suddenly appeared in his mouth and he'd used them to tear into his own wrist. He'd then pressed the gushing wound to her open, gasping mouth. She'd tried not to swallow, tried to turn her head away, but she was too weak and then he'd plugged her nose, like she was a child he was trying to get medicine down, and she'd had no choice. She'd swallowed in an effort to clear her throat and breathe, and then she'd swallowed again, and then . . . the memory ended.

“You probably passed out,
piccola
,” Gia said sympathetically. “And that is good. You do not need memories of the turn. It is supposed to be terribly painful.”

“Is it?” she asked, glancing to her with surprise.

“I was born immortal so cannot say for sure, but yes, I understand it is very bad.”

“I guess I'm glad I wasn't awake for it then,” Holly muttered. She had never been a fan of pain. Toothaches, earaches and headaches could all reduce her to a sniveling mass. She wasn't much better at being sick either; pathetic really, and whiny.

“Then it is good you will suffer none of those things again,” Gia said with amusement.

“Yeah,” Holly agreed and realized it was true. Well, if what they were telling her was true, it was. She'd never be down and miserable with illness again. It was a pleasant prospect.

Gia smiled and pointed out, “Your nausea has passed.”

Holly lowered her head briefly to concentrate on the sensations in her body and realized she was right. The nausea had passed.