Deathless Love (6 page)

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Authors: Renee Rose

BOOK: Deathless Love
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“I shouldn't have handled him the way I did in the club. I don't usually get rough with customers like that, especially if they're drunk. It just makes them more belligerent.”

She shrugged. “Well, it's no big deal.”

He was looking at her like he knew that was a lie.
Damn him.

“I'm going to get home, now.”

“Kate, in the future, I want you to ask someone to walk you out, okay?”

For some reason his authoritative tone irritated her, but it really wasn't in her to give him any backtalk. “Fine,” she said dully and climbed into her car, backing up and driving off with Dom still standing there watching her.

 

* * *

 

“Another vampire has been found drained.” Fox looked at Dom over the top of his laptop. He and Dom were both sitting in Dom's living room at their laptops while Stella made them dinner in the kitchen. “Another old one.”

“Who was it?" Stella called from the pass-through.

“Lucas Aragon. Age 473. He's the third vampire over the age of 400 to be killed in the past six months.”

Stella came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands. “So what are vampires saying?”


That's the creepy thing. Everyone seems to be scared into silence. At least on the Yahoo group. But I emailed Randolph privately and the word is that everyone suspects Roxanna Vagomir. She's the oldest vampire left.”


Yeah, but why would she be picking off older fangs? What do they think is the motivation?”


I don't know, but what they do know is that she's building an empire out of other vampires' businesses. Suddenly everyone is just happily laying their operations at her feet and becoming her loyal followers. It doesn't make sense.”

Fox could tell Dom was
listening even though he hadn't offered any comment. “What do you think, Dom?”

Dom shrugged. “I don't know. I think I'm glad we're in Tucson rather than Chicago or the old country.”

“Are you not going to give it any more thought than that? I mean, look, if Roxanna—or whoever is doing it—is picking off the oldest vampires, that means you're on the short list. I mean, how many more are left?”

Dom didn't answer.

“Dom? Shouldn't you be worried?”

“Don't let yourself get wrapped up in all the drama, Fox. It has nothing to do with us.”

“How can you say that?” He heard his voice take on a plaintive tone. “I think giving this a little thought and investigation is totally warranted.” He hated when Dom was dismissive with him. After almost two hundred years together, he still felt like he was the little boy to whom Dom never gave his full attention or respect.

“The label 'drama queen' comes to mind,” Dom said mildly.

“Fuck you,” he snapped, knowing full well he'd pay for that little piece of disrespect.

Dom looked up and his eyes narrowed. He raised his hand with the fingers cupped and squeezed, causing Fox's throat to constrict as if he were being strangled.

“Sorry!” he choked out quickly, knowing from experience it was better to fold immediately. Dom didn't relent. He waved his hands. “I apologize! I'm sorry!” He could feel his face turning red and his vision was starting to swim before Dom let go.

It was the original Darth Vader move. How George Lucas had ever seen it wasn't clear, but it was certainly an ancient vampire trick. It was a way that older vampires held power, controlling the bodies of younger ones this way.

He coughed a few times, rubbing his neck. “Do you even know what you're doing with that?” he complained bitterly. “One of these days you're going to accidentally kill me.”

“You can't choke a vampire to death,” Dom said in a bored voice. But then he looked up with a serious face. “I apologize. For the drama queen crack.” Then Dom looked back to his laptop as if the subject were closed. From Dom, that was as good as it got.

He sighed. “Look, Dom. I'm really concerned about this.” He raised his voice to reach the kitchen. “Stella, don't you think this is something to worry about?”

Stella appeared in the doorway again and leaned against it. She looked as hot as always, her long, shapely legs set off by short shorts. She shrugged. “Well, I'm glad you're monitoring it. But it definitely isn't cause for worry yet. If something happens in the U.S., then we need to take note.”

“Yeah, but if something were to happen in the U.S., it would be with Dom. He's the oldest fang in the country. We won't have time to react.”

Stella looked from him to Dom for a moment. “Dom, what is your sense about this?”

Jesus
, hadn't he just asked that? Sometimes they were so like a nuclear family it was funny. He was the kid who had to petition mommy to talk to daddy for him. But that was how it had always been.

Dom sighed and met Stella's eye. They'd known each other so long they often didn't use words to communicate, which drove Fox absolutely crazy. “Roxanna Vagomir has always been a royal bitch. I would not be surprised to learn that she was behind anything. That said, I don't know why she would want or need to kill and drain older vampires.” Dom shut his computer and turned to him, as if he were conceding something. “See if you can find out more about why or how the vampires are giving up their businesses to her. If we know what the game is, we'll have more to go on.”

He nodded, happy he'd finally been given marching orders and turned to email Randolph, a former lover he'd met in the sixties when they lived in Chicago. Randolph had returned to his native England, but since rediscovering each other in the nineties through the internet, they'd been tight on a cyber basis.

He was relieved that Dom had finally engaged on the topic of Roxanna. He had a bad feeling about it all. And if his bad feeling played out, Dom and Roxanna would go toe to toe-- and only one vampire would walk away.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

“No Return,” Dom answered the phone, feeling a blast of emotion run through his entire body. There was a hesitation, then he heard Kate's voice and he immediately understood why his emotions had gone haywire. He felt fear and trauma from her and it made every cell in his body come alert.

“Hi Dom. Is Fox there yet? He's not answering his cell.” Something was very wrong. She was upset in a frizzed-out sort of way. Pure adrenaline was pumping through his body now.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asked sharply.

“Um,” she squeaked a little, as if she were trying not to cry, “there was a car accident.”

“Where are you?” he barked.

“Is Fox—”


Where?

“Speedway and Euclid.”

He hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen to dematerialize where no one could see him. He thought of the intersection and couldn't think of much seclusion. Fuck it—if anyone saw him, they would just have to think they missed him standing there before. He materialized right behind where she stood next to her crumpled car. The car that had rear-ended her was still jackknifed in the middle of the intersection with a cop car and an emergency rescue vehicle in front of and behind it. She still had her phone pressed to her hear. “Dom? Is Fox around?”

“Kate.”

She whirled around, jumping.

“Are you all right? Come here,
bambina
,” he said, drawing her to him and wrapping her up in his arms, stroking her hair as she pressed her face into his chest. She was trembling and he could feel his shirt dampening with her tears. She seemed unharmed.

He cupped the nape of her neck and held it, thinking about whiplash and its delayed onset. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” came her muffled reply.

“Good,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. “What happened?”

“The light turned red and I stopped, but the guy behind me didn't.” She looked at her wrecked car mournfully.

He texted Fox and Stella to get one of them to pick them up. “Have you called for a tow yet?”

When she shook her head, he placed the call.

The EMTs came over to ask her some questions to make sure she was okay and then the cop, who had apparently already taken her statement, informed her that the asshole who hit her was uninsured. At that news, she sagged visibly. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “It will be all right,” he said when the cop walked away.

“How will it be all right?” she asked, the sound of despair giving her voice a tinny pitch. “My car is totaled and I don't have insurance to cover it. I have no way to get to school or to my jobs. And my keyboard was in the trunk!” At that, she started crying again. “I'm fucked.”

He put his arms around her again, soothing her as best her could. “Keyboards are not that expensive to replace and you can use my car during the day. I need someone who can run errands for me in the daytime, anyway. Would you be my gopher girl?”

“I don't need your charity,” she said with a sniffle.

“It's not charity. I really do need the help. Alex was doing some of it, but he lost his license, so he can't drive anymore.”

She tipped her head up and looked at him seriously. “Really?” she said uncertainly.

He nodded. “I really need the help. It'd be a favor to me.”

“Thanks.” She looked like she knew he was blowing smoke up her ass, but was happy to have a solution to her problem.

“You up for performing tonight? Fox has a keyboard you can use, right?”

She nodded. “Yep. I can perform. I'll text Fox.”

 

 

 

Of course it had to have been Dom who answered the phone at No Return. She'd been doing a decent job of avoiding him, other than the night she had played at No Return—not that she'd stopped thinking about him. But when he showed up like her personal hero at the scene of the accident, she wanted only to stand in the circle of his arms. Forever.

Okay, that was stupid, given that he'd already told her they were a no-go. But having him there, taking care of her, had soothed her freak-out more than anything else could have. And now she'd be driving his car, running his errands, communicating with him on a daily basis. The thought of it was both pleasure and pain at the same time. Kind of like a spanking.
No, don't go there.

“Scoot over. I'm riding in the back with you,” Dom said with great authority after holding open the back door to Stella's BMW for her.

“Oh great, I get to be your chauffeur?” Stella flashed her a smile over her shoulder. “Are you okay, kid?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just shaken up.”

Dom slid in next to her and put his hand at the nape of her neck again. It felt good there—like he was lending her his strength. Or stabilizing her, somehow.

She took a little bottle of Rescue Remedy out of her purse and squeezed a dropperful under her tongue.

“What's that?” Dom asked.

“Flower essences. To calm down in a stressful situation.”

“May I?” he took them from her and examined the bottle, then squeezed a dropperful under his tongue. After a moment, he said, “That's nice. Very nice.”

“You can feel it?”

“Can't you?”

She flushed. “Well, it's pretty subtle… sometimes I feel them, sometimes I don't.”

He gave her a strange look, but changed the subject. “What is your schedule tomorrow?”

“I teach preschool music at 9:30 in the morning and then I have individual piano lessons from 1 till 4 pm. Why, what do you need?”

“I'm going to make you an appointment with my Feldenkrais practitioner, just in case your neck freezes up after being rear-ended like that.”

“Your what? What is that?”

“It's a kind of body work. Humor me, okay? I'm paying.”

She met his eye and his look was full of tender concern. Like a sap, her eyes filled up with tears and she blinked them back and dropped them. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

He wrapped his other hand around her head and pulled it toward him to kiss the top. Then he released her.

“I didn't know you taught preschool music.”

Why did that seem like a personal question? “Um, yeah.”

“Where? What do you teach them?”

“At the U of A. One of the professors designed the class. I teach 18 months to three year olds and a three to five year old class. It's a lot of creative movement and hands on stuff. They sing, play with instruments, listen to songs and stories. Super cute.”

Dom was staring at her as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever heard. “I'd give anything to watch that class.”

Huh?
“You would? You could—oh, I guess you can't, can you?”

He shrugged and what looked like a flicker of pain crossed his face. Stella pulled into the parking lot of No Return and stopped the car in front of the back door. “Door to door service, my lord.”

“Thanks, Stella,” Dom said, climbing out. He unlocked the back door of No Return and held it open for her.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, Dom,” she said after they entered. “Again,” she said a little wryly.

“No problem. I'm glad you're all right. I'll catch up with you after closing to give you my keys, okay?” He said it casually, over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd.

“Sure. Thanks.”

She waited for him at the bar after closing. The bouncers were still working on getting everyone out and the staff had turned on the fluorescents, which made most of the crowd scramble like cockroaches heading for cover. Not everyone, though.

“Hey, Kate. Great performance, as usual.”

She couldn't remember his name. She wasn't even sure she'd ever known it. He was good-looking in that frat-boy kind of way, and cocky enough to be leaning in a little too close.

“Ah, thanks.” Unbidden, the memory of her last spanking came to mind.
You need to learn how to send out appropriate signals. You do not always need to be nice.

She lowered the wattage of her automatic smile and looked around to show disinterest.

“Listen, my friends and I are having an after-party at my place. Do you want to come? I can ride you if you don't feel up for driving.”

I can ride you.
How was that for neuro-linguistic programming? “Thanks, but I have plans, already. I'm waiting for Dom.” Shit. She should have left off that last part, considering Dom was right behind the bar, listening to the whole thing.
You do not need to be rescued by your friendly vampire.

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