Broken Heart 04 Wait till Your Vampire Gets Home (8 page)

I focused on the poses and pushed away mental distractions. I did Cobra pose: I stretched out on my stomach, then put my palms flat on the floor, lifted my torso off the ground, and bent back, my eyes raised to the ceiling.

After a few seconds, I realized someone was watching me. I released the position and rolled to my knees, crossing my arms over my breasts.

Through the clear door of the cell, Ralph pried his baby blues off my chest and grinned sheepishly. “Uh . . . hi, Libby.”

Chapter 9

“Please turn around so I can get dressed.” Being comfortable with my naked body was one thing; showing off my assets to Ralph was something else. I was angry. He’d left me. He had fire issues, too, but they were letting him walk around free.

He dutifully turned around. I put on the pajamas and then strode to the metal door.

“Okay, I’m decent.”

“The adjective I’d use is spectacular.” Ralph turned around, his cheeks flushed.

“Are you blushing?” I asked. “Can vampires do that?”

“No. And no.” He cleared his throat and held up a white paper bag. “I thought you might be hungry,” he said, talking a bit louder so I could hear him through the door.

“Aw, that’s so nice of you,” I said in a saccharine voice with a similarly raised voice. My sarcasm was ruined by my growling stomach.

“I brought you a hamburger with the works, large order of fries, and a chocolate shake. It’s my specialty.” His smile dimmed. “I’m a short-order cook at the Old Sass Café.”

“Too bad you’re not a prison guard. With a key.”

He flinched. “This is just until we figure out what’s going on, Libby.” He placed his hand on the plastic window. “It’s for your safety. And ours.”

“Because you already have fire power, right? Or did you avoid a cell just because you’re one of them?”

“I’ve been taught how to control my fire. You’ll learn how, too.”

“In here?”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable, maybe even ashamed. “I’m sorry.” His gaze flicked to mine, and I saw the fire dancing in the blue orbs. He really did look sorry, and I felt an answering fire inside me. We were part of the same magic, the same passion. I felt it even with the barrier of the door between us.

I wondered if Ralph did, too.

Desperation flailed my pride. I pressed my palm against his, although the plastic prevented us from touching. “Please, Ralph. Let me out. I’ll leave. I’ll . . . never come back.”

He looked at me, and I thought he might say something, something that would bridge the gap between us. That would reassure me.

“Libby . . .”

“Yes?”

He shook his head, but couldn’t quite pry his gaze from mine. The fire was inside him, calling to me. I heard its song.

“You hear it, don’t you?” I whispered.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I crave it, too. More than you could ever know.”

Oh, I knew. The difference between us was he could push it away, probably even lock it up. I didn’t have the strength to deny the flame. It wanted Ralph. I wanted Ralph. It was like my heart couldn’t beat without his.

Finally, he broke eye contact. He pointed to the right side of my cell. “They’ll give you the food through a slot in that wall.”

“Ralph.” Censure vibrated.

“Please, Libby. Just . . . don’t.”

Disappointment weighed heavily on me. I guess I should give the guy a break, but I had hoped he would rescue me. I was getting used to it, after all. Ralph, my undead knight in shining armor.

I sighed. “I’m a vegan.”

His eyebrows rose. “So . . . hamburgers aren’t your thing.”

“I don’t eat animals or wear their flesh. Anything made from animal by-products is out, too.”

“By-products?”

“Milk, eggs, cheese . . . you know, by-products.”

“Ah. Chocolate milk shakes are out, too.” He nodded. “Got it. I’ll figure out something vegan-ish for tomorrow night’s dinner.”

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell. He seemed reluctant to leave. Why? He’d made clear his intentions. Maybe he couldn’t quite resist the fire, either. Dragonfire was not the same as his vampire power. Oh, what did I know? Fire was probably fire. And I was still a prisoner.

“They might let me out of this place, but I’ll still be a prisoner. Won’t I?”

I waited for him to deny it.

His gaze captured mine and I saw his regret. “I know this isn’t fair. I’m sorry. I really am.”

Hurt settled like a cold lump in my stomach. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“My sons lost their mother and they nearly lost me, too. Being a vampire isn’t something I chose, but it’s better than being six feet under.” He blew out a breath. “You’re not the only one dealing with new changes, Libby. You’re not the only one with something to lose.”

I strained my neck to watch him walk to the end of the hallway. He was swallowed by darkness. I heard the faint clang of a metal door as it opened and closed.

Then I was alone.

“Patient Monroe, please enjoy your dinner.” A mechanical voice startled me. I looked up, which was kinda stupid, especially since the voice didn’t emanate from the ceiling. I couldn’t determine its source.

A square door opened about two feet above my bed. The bag sat on a metal tray that slid out. My parents were vegan, too, and had raised me in the lifestyle. I had veered from veganism only once, and eating the steak made me so ill I vomited. I couldn’t stand the smell of leather, either. We won’t talk about my views on milk. Yuck.

I removed the bag and took out the fries, which were still crispy and hot. I returned the bag, but not before I peeked into the little doorway. Shoot. It was closed on the other side.

Usually the smell of cooked meat made my stomach lurch, but for some reason the hamburger made me salivate. Ew. No. Still, I unwrapped it and inhaled the scent. Oh, man. I was tempted to take a bite.

What was happening to me? I was in love with fire. And now I craved meat. I threw the hamburger back into the bag. I ignored the chocolate shake.

“Hey, Mr. Roboto! You got any water?” I munched on the fries.

“Please enjoy the water available in your personal bathroom.”

“Gee, thanks. Do I have to use my hands or can you give me a cup?”

“Cups are available in the convenient dispenser next to your sink.”

What dispenser? I got off the bed and went into the bathroom. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a little silver dispenser with tiny paper cups. I filled one up and drank the water. Then I refilled the cup and carried it with me to the bed.

I used to think my weird life couldn’t get any weirder.

Was I wrong, or what?

 
I’m not sure what woke me up. I lay on the bed, my eyes still closed. My muscles ached from the cramped sleeping quarters. I turned on my side and let my mind drift.

Once I’d finished the fries and put my trash on the tray, it zipped back into the wall. I tried to make conversation with Mr. Roboto, but he only offered instructions related to my cell. I figured out that I could control the lights simply by voice commands. Finally, I got so bored I turned off the light and went to sleep.

“Libby.”

Stan’s voice sounded strained and raspy. I opened my eyes. The lights were on full and the brightness stabbed my eyeballs. Ugh. I covered my face and said, “Lights fifty percent.”

They dimmed and I stumbled off the bed and toward the cell door. Stan looked pale. Sweat poured off his face and the fringe of hair surrounding his bald spot stuck straight up. His white lab coat was wrinkled and stained.

“You look like hell. How long have I been out?” I asked. Hope surged. “Are you letting me go?”

“You’ve only been asleep a couple of hours.” He studied me, frowning. “I’m afraid we can’t release you.”

I didn’t like how he was looking at me. I stepped back and hugged myself. Foreboding swirled in my belly. “What’s going on?”

“Just tell me what you did to Patrick.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I already said I was sorry! I didn’t mean to stake him. And he was fine. Just ask Ralph.”

“Did you give anything to him?”

“Other than my blood?”

“Yes,” he hissed. His gaze cut down the hallway and then he looked back at me. “Please, Libby! Did you jab him with something? Did you slip him a pill or . . . or a tincture?”

“A
tincture
? C’mon! I’m not a spy,” I said, annoyed with his questions. “I slit my wrist and let him drink my blood.”

“Maybe you coming to Broken Heart isn’t a coincidence, after all.” His expression turned cold. “You have an unusual background. They found me. They could’ve found you, too.”

“Who?”

“Vampires. Only the Wraiths or Hu Mua Lan got to you.” He scowled and stepped back, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’re Lia’s minion. I mean, not on purpose.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. Dread squeezed my stomach. “I don’t know anyone named Hu whoever. I don’t know what a Wraith is. And I didn’t do anything to Patrick.”

“Yes, you did,” he said in a shaking voice. His gaze pinned mine. “You poisoned him.”

Chapter 10

The shock of Stan’s accusation nearly buckled my knees. I grabbed for the wall and sucked in a steadying breath. Oh my God. Did they think I tried to kill someone?

I couldn’t even speak. I stared at Stan, and he looked down at the floor, his face going scarlet. I knew then he didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong. But he was beholden to these vampires. I knew his loyalty belonged to them.

The faint clang of the hallway door opening and closing had my heart thumping in earnest. Fear was a live thing squirming inside me as I listened to booted feet thudding toward us. The jailers had come to tell me my appeal had been denied. Hah. Stan glanced at me, sympathy in his hound-dog gaze.

Patrick’s twin, Lorcan, arrived. I assumed it was Lorcan because, while he looked pissed off, he didn’t look poisoned. Plus, his outline was purple. Patrick’s was blue.

A tall man with muscles on his muscles took position on the left side of Stan. He was dressed in black leather pants and matching vest. Ugh. Animal flesh. His feet were encased in black biker boots with silver buckles. He had jade green eyes and the face of a
GQ
model. His long black hair was pulled into a ponytail. Hostile didn’t begin to describe his attitude toward me. He was outlined in red.

“Did she tell you what she did?” he asked. His accent was German. He looked like he could break me in half. Worse, he looked like he
wanted
to. I shuddered.

Stan shook his head. “Whatever she did, I don’t believe she did it on purpose.”

“We’ll see about that.” Lorcan’s voice was thick with Irish. “If her poison kills me brother, then darlin’ Jessica dies, too.”

“Jessica?” I vaguely remembered the name, but couldn’t connect it to anyone I’d met so far. I backed away, but there was nowhere to go. If they opened that door, they could easily capture and subdue me. “I didn’t even touch her!”

“Jessica is Patrick’s wife,” said Stan. “They’re bound. Bound vampires are connected body, mind, and soul. If Patrick dies . . . so does she.”

“I tried to help him! I swear the only thing I gave Patrick was my blood.” My gaze collided with Stan’s as we both reached the same conclusion. “Do you think my blood poisoned him?”

He frowned. “I don’t see how . . . unless you ingested something on purpose. Something that wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Use your big brain, Stan! What could I take that would hurt the freaking undead, but leave me alive? Aren’t vampires indestructible?”

“We can be killed,” said Lorcan.

“By sunlight and . . . and beheading. That’s what Ralph told me.” My mind raced, trying to piece together information I’d learned inadvertently. There was something else that could kill vampires, too. “Patsy said Tainted vampires were sick. Do they get the Taint from humans?” My eyes went wide. “Do . . . do I have that? Oh my God! Stan, do I have the Taint?”

“No. Humans can’t get the Taint. And that’s not what is harming Patrick.”

The big guy with the green eyes and the assassin smile looked me over. “We may have jumped to conclusions. How quickly can you test her blood?”

Stanley shrugged. “I should be able to test it against known substances fairly quickly.”

“This has something to do with the dragon,” I muttered. “She changed me, didn’t she? And my blood . . .” My next thought had my heart climbing into my throat. “Am I still human?”

“We’ll await the results,” said Lorcan, “before we make any decisions.”

I knew my fate hung in the pudgy hands of Dr. Archibald Stanley Michaels. He knew it, too. And he couldn’t meet my gaze.

They all turned to go.

“Wait!”

Only Stanley paused. He looked over his shoulder as his companions continued down the hallway.

“Please let me out,” I said. “I’ll stay with you in the lab and help—just like I used to.”