Blood Bath & Beyond (11 page)

“How are you supposed to figure that out while sequestered in this suite?”

“I’ll find a way.” He pulled back from me, then glanced at the men standing by the door, whom I hadn’t even noticed until this moment. He nodded at them before returning his gaze to me. “Please try not to worry about me.”

One of the men, a big brute with a crew cut and a tattoo on his biceps of a skull and crossbones, took me by my arm. The other one, bald with a thick black mustache, circa 1978, grabbed my suitcase. They directed me out of the room so fast that I didn’t have a chance to say another word. I didn’t have a chance to kiss Thierry one last time or even to say good-bye.

Stunned and shaken, I sat in the back of a black sedan as Markus’s thugs drove me to the airport. They took me to the counter so I could buy a ticket. They accompanied me to security clearance. Then when they were certain they’d done their job, they left me there in the line that moved slowly toward the scanners and the boarding gates beyond.

My head swam with everything that had happened. Bernard had been murdered and it looked as if Thierry had set up the hit.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I knew he was innocent. But if he couldn’t prove that—and how could
he prove something like that while he was stuck in a guarded hotel suite?—he was going to meet his own death at the end of Markus’s Ring-appointed silver stake.

He wanted me to go back to Toronto so I’d be safe. For me to say good-bye to him and try to put everything out of my mind.

You’d really think he’d know me better than that by now.

I waited five more minutes, making sure that the men didn’t return, before I slipped out of the line and exited the airport. I flagged down a cab to take me and my suitcase back to the Strip.

The man I loved—the man I fully planned to marry one day very soon—was in mortal danger. The least I could do was save him.

E
ven though Las Vegas was a 24-7 kind of town, I knew I wouldn’t get very far tonight in figuring out who framed Thierry for Bernard’s murder. Plus, I was worried I’d be spotted by Mr. Enforcer and sent back to Toronto in pieces instead of in coach.

That guy scared the crap out of me. And after some of the things I’d faced since becoming a vampire, I didn’t say that lightly.

I needed to find a motel and get an early start tomorrow. Nothing else would happen tonight. Nothing except me reliving Bernard’s murder and the look in Thierry’s eyes as I was pulled away from him by Markus’s men—again and again and again.

It was just after midnight, and I was all alone in Vegas with only a shiny pink, slightly beaten-up suitcase as my companion. Even though I was surrounded by the bright lights of the Vegas Strip and the hum of tourists out living the nightlife, I’d never felt so lost and alone.

I desperately needed to confide in somebody I trusted and hopefully get some sort of advice to help guide me from here.

I decided on my best friend. She picked up after three rings.

“Sarah?” Amy exclaimed. “Oh my God! It’s so great to hear from you!”

She sounded as if it had been months, not a day and a half, since we’d last seen each other. I was happy to hear her familiar voice. “Amy, I really need to talk to you.”

“Thanks for checking in! You know it’s after midnight here in Vancouver, right? That’s okay, though. Call me anytime. Yeah, we totally settled in here fantastically. I love this city. There are mountains here, Sarah. Big, tall, majestic mountains. It’s like a freaking postcard.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Listen, I really need—”

“I’m almost finished unpacking. Everything arrived perfect, although that lamp that I love didn’t do so well. It’s got this big chunk missing from it and I have no idea where it went. So now my cool lamp is a cool lamp missing a big chunk. I’ve faced it to the wall. I don’t think anyone will notice.”

I gritted my teeth. “I called for a reason, Amy. Can you just let me talk for a second?”

There was a pause. “Somebody sounds grumpy tonight.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Everything going okay with Thierry?” She hesitated. “There are no…
problems
…are there?”

It had taken Amy a while to warm up to my fiancé and I knew she still had difficulties now and then with the idea of me wanting to marry him, even though she kept these opinions mostly to herself now that I had the ring on my finger. “Well, there are problems, but not what you might think.”

“I’m here for you, Sarah. Anytime, any way. Seriously. If you ever, I don’t know, change your mind about anything, you should feel free to come out here. A couple days, a week, whatever you need. Barry won’t mind if you take the guest room. Well, he’ll mind a little, but he’ll get over it.”

My grip tightened on my phone. “That’s probably not going to happen.”

“Not surprised. But consider the offer out there, anyway.” She yawned loudly. “Sorry. Wow, I’m so tired. Today’s been jam-packed and I have to get up super early tomorrow. But it’s been really great talking to you. Thanks for calling, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem. But—”

“E-mail me! Bye!”

And then the line went dead.

I scratched Amy—who admittedly hadn’t been the most reliable person I’d ever known—off my list of people who could potentially help me. It only reminded me that I needed to deal with this alone. The last thing I needed, even if she’d been willing to fly down here and help me, was to draw someone else I cared about into trouble with the Ring. My blatantly going against their orders by not getting on that plane was bad enough.

Amy had improved a lot when it came to accepting Thierry as a major part of my life, but I knew he didn’t make a fabulous first impression on a lot of people. Two months ago I’d taken him with me to announce our engagement to my parents—who’d been anticipating their only child having a wonderful, flashy wedding one day, since as a kid it was one of my favorite subjects. I even tore pictures out of wedding magazines of the
dresses I liked best and tacked them to my bedroom wall.

“Engaged,” my father had said with surprise when I showed him my diamond ring. “To
him
? Sarah, honey, what are you thinking?”

I’d really thought this would go over better. Sure, the first time my parents met Thierry, the fact that
technically
he was married to someone else was a bit of a fly in the ointment, but things had changed. A lot.

“I love him,” I’d said simply, as if that would smooth everything over.

“But he’s so completely different from you. You are lightness and joy and humor and he’s…well, he’s none of those things.” My father had glanced over at Thierry sitting stiffly with my mother as she showed him some photo albums from when I was a kid. “I get a bad vibe from him.”

“You get a
bad vibe
from him?” I repeated. “What is this, the seventies?”

“Does he ever smile?”

I felt defensive. “Sure he does.”

“I mean, he’s handsome. And I know he has money. I can see why women might be attracted to him. But, Sarah…you need a man who will truly love you, not just provide for you. You need a partner in life, an equal, not one who will treat you like a possession.” He shot another glance in Thierry’s direction. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see the two of you together forever.”

There wasn’t much more to say after that. I could argue until I was blue in the face, but it was clear that my father—and my mother, although she’d never state it so bluntly—didn’t approve of my fiancé.

But I was twenty-eight, not eighteen. If my father told me not to date somebody because he got a “bad vibe,” I couldn’t really be expected to toe the line and go up to my room and behave myself. Could I?

I mean, I hadn’t even told my parents I was a vampire yet, so they had no idea how deep the waters ran with me these days. I was putting that little conversation off. Indefinitely, if I could manage it.

Later, in the car, things were quiet until Thierry finally spoke.

“Your father despises me.”

“I don’t know if I’d use the word
despises
.”

“What word would you use?”

“Um…dislikes? Intensely?”

Thierry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I don’t know what I could have done differently.”

I hissed out a breath. “Well, maybe
smiling
might have helped. You looked like you were doing an impression of the angel of death tonight. And when you’re around recent retirees who are packing up their things to head to Florida, I don’t think that’s appreciated very much.”

“I smiled.”

“You briefly bared your teeth. Most living creatures consider that a threatening gesture.” I pressed back in the passenger seat. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

“You don’t care that I am inept at smiling or that your father hates the sight of me?”

“Actually, he thinks you’re handsome. And wealthy.”

“But not good enough for his daughter.”

“He thinks you’ll treat me as a possession, not as an equal.”

“I see.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure he wouldn’t think anyone’s good enough.”

Thierry kept his eyes on the road ahead as he merged onto the highway heading back toward the city. “I’m not used to…family situations. I regret that I was unable to make a better impression on your father. I don’t know how to make amends for this.”

A little of the tightness in my chest lifted and I turned my face to look at Thierry’s profile in the darkness of the car. “You don’t have to make amends.”

“I don’t?”

“People don’t cozy up to you easily. My parents included. I’m not surprised.”

“Old habits. I naturally try to keep people at a distance.”

“You do, no question about it. You did the same with me too many times to count, remember? You have a very prickly exterior that needs to be navigated very carefully. Kind of like a really sexy cactus.”

His lips curved a little at that. “A cactus.”

“Cactus, porcupine, thorny lizard. Pick one.”

“If I’m so prickly, then how do you let yourself get so close to me?”

“Simple.” I slid over a little so I could place my hand on his chest, over the left side of his jacket. “I know what’s in here.”

“My cell phone?”

“Oh my God. A joke. No, Mr. de Bennicoeur, I know your heart. And there’s nothing prickly or cactusy about it. I mean, sure, it’s a little blackened and singed at the edges—”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

“And a bit shriveled.”

“Sounds unpleasant.”

“Nope. It’s beautiful, actually. Best heart I’ve ever met.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

His gray eyes flicked to mine. “Becauseevery last shriveled and blackened piece of it is yours.”

His shields were down—his prickly protection he’d built up toward the world all around him. In his eyes I could see his worry about disappointing me when it came to my parents’ approval, and his uncertainty—even after all the time we’d spent together—about whether I’d change my mind about him.

He knew as well as I did that we were opposites in so, so many ways—from age, to experience, to demeanor, to outlook on life. Opposites might attract, but did they have any real chance to stay together?

My own heart warmed up so much by what he’d said that it spilled over like a tiny volcano in my chest. My hand slipped beneath his jacket to feel the slow but steady beat of his heart beneath my touch. “I promise to take very good care of it.”

He brought my hand up to his lips. “I appreciate it.”

When people ask me how I could love a man like Thierry, I think of moments like that—moments that make me realize I’d do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me. And that we have something very special between us, something private, something not everyone in the world is lucky enough to have.

And that? That’s worth fighting for.

I got a room at a crappy little motel off the Strip, one that didn’t have a flashy interior or fantastic stage
show. It was called Glitter, and much like the Mariah Carey movie by the same name, it made me want to curl up in a ball and rock myself to sleep. Luckily, there were no cockroaches hiding under the stiff cotton sheets, or at least none that wanted to come out and say hello while the lights were on. However, I knew they were in here somewhere. I sensed their curiosity about the fanged brunette sitting on the edge of the bed trying not to lose hope.

I stared up at the stained ceiling just before I shut off the light and thought about Thierry. I missed him so much. My heart ached that he thought I was back home by now, back to my normal life without him. He might be staring at the ceiling of the beautiful Bellagio suite that was now serving as his temporary prison before he was found guilty of murder and immediately put to death by a cold-blooded assassin.

Still, that was a five-star hotel and this was…not. At least he could get room service if he wanted.

I tossed and turned for an hour before, finally, a chorus of cockroaches sang me to sleep. Or maybe it was just the TV left on in a neighboring room.

I really hoped it was.

The next morning, I’d escaped the mildew-scented clutches of Glitter. I honestly didn’t know how long I’d be staying in such absolute nonluxury, but I didn’t think I’d get away with only one night.

The tight black dress I’d worn last night had been shoved unceremoniously into my suitcase and replaced with much more practical black jeans, a plain white tank top, and a pair of red Keds.

I’d hoped I would wake up with the answer to what
had happened and who was to blame, but I utterly had no idea. Why would that hunter kill Bernard in public? Even hunters had a code they operated by. In their own misguided way, they were trying to protect humans from your average fanged threat. Protecting humans didn’t include traumatizing them in large numbers.

It made no sense to me.

“Money talks.”
Duncan said that. He was a hired mercenary, informant, whatever. Much like a stripper, he moved in the direction of dollar bills, wherever they waved.

“Somebody must have hired him,” I mumbled to myself.

Yeah, well, it looked like
Thierry
had done just that, didn’t it? He’d threatened Bernard in public. But if Thierry wanted Bernard dead, Bernard would have simply disappeared without a sound, without a trace, never to be seen or heard from again.