Good As Dead (Dying To Meet You Book 1) (4 page)

Not turning around, he laughed and said, “If only you knew, darling. I’m the meanest thing there is around these parts.”

She tried to tell him otherwise whilst whispering sweet nothings in his ear but as sharp as his sense of hearing was, he heard nothing. His eyes had zeroed in on a problem. A big fucking problem, and they were heading straight for him—four .38 Smith and Weston special bullets. Two seconds later, the room erupted in high-pitched screams.

Bang

Two seconds was a long time for a vampire. Putting his hand on the girl’s head in front of him, he crushed her to the floor with enough force to send her sprawling. He managed to ascertain there were two shooters and each was firing bullets from both the left and right of him. Neatly stepping forwards, he avoided three out of the four shots aimed at him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough time or space to get out of the way of the last one and it ripped through the top of his left thigh with enough impact to send him stumbling backwards. The pain focused him instantly.

Being shot with a bullet was like having someone slam all the air out of his body before replacing it with hydrochloric acid. The burn started at the site of the puncture wound, and then slowly radiated outwards until the pain was all consuming. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stand around and feel sorry for himself because two blood slaves were already aiming their next shots, and he was damned if he was going to wait around until they turned his body into a tea strainer. As the sea of bodies in front of him began to drop to the floor in panic, he had no option but to sprint over them but due to the impressive burst of speed he now employed, he doubted anyone would feel too much.

More bullets continued to whizz past his body, but the goons had lost their chance. Trying to hit a vampire that could run at speeds of up to ninety miles an hour was like trying to find a snowflake in a snowstorm. It was virtually impossible. He had another advantage over the blood slaves too. He knew the schematics of this club, inside and out, and it wouldn’t matter how many people they had watching the main doors, they’d never catch him. There were an impressive sixteen exits leading out of Club Caress, and he was going to use one of the most obscure.

In less than a second he had crossed the entire dance floor and left the sweaty heaving bodies that reeked of alcohol fumes far behind. Swinging through double doors and several sets of emergency exits, he felt a warm trickle of blood begin to slip down his leg. There was very little he could do about it. Anyway, whilst they could follow his trail, they wouldn’t be fast enough to capture him. Had they managed to get two or three shots into him, they might have stood a chance but he could cope with a single shot. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, and it hurt like hell but he’d manage to haul himself back home some way or another.

Reaching the end of the corridor, he headed down a long flight of stairs lit by nothing more than a thin strip of flickering UV lighting. Slamming through the door to the cellars, dark musty air filled his nostrils and then the smell of cheap wine assailed him. Thankfully, it didn’t get a chance to become overpowering. In a single leap, he managed to grab on to the upper windowpane of the far wall and hauling his body painfully upwards, he slid the aged oak frame sideways, wincing at the loud screech as he did so. Slipping backwards for a second on a palm slick with sweat, he cursed his sloppiness for the sounds of thundering footsteps were fast approaching behind him. The mob must have had back up, for there were at least six pairs of feet banging through his head.

Swearing again, he focused himself. He wiped his damp palm on his sweater and clawed his way out of the small opening, his fingers burrowing into the soft dark earth that would lead him to the waste disposal bay. As he pulled his legs through, tears of agony formed in his eyes, but he didn’t give them a chance to escape. The cellar door had swung open behind him and he was all too aware that his escape had been a narrow one. Narrow or not though, there was no chance they could catch him now. Swiftly getting to his feet, he ran as fast as his injured leg could carry him and wouldn’t stop until he’d reached the sanctity of his abode.

Powering along, he wondered if the minions had managed to infiltrate his home but quickly dismissed the idea. He was confident that if they had, they wouldn’t have been waiting to incapacitate him at the club. It was bad news all around though. Now that they had pinpointed his general whereabouts, an army would be forming and they’d be searching the area like termites, burrowing into every hole and climbing over every mountain until they found what they were looking for. It was time to get the hell out, and fast.

When he reached the entry pad to his apartment block, he hunched over it and gave himself a couple of seconds to heave in a few all-important breaths. Thank God, he’d just fed or else he’d never have made it. Looking down in disgust, he found the left pant leg of his jeans soaked in blood.
Great.
They were his favourite pair too. They’d be none too sexy with a great big burn hole in them though. Slamming his fist into the brick wall above him, he took a moment to rue answering the blasted phone call that had put him in this predicament, but it was too late for regrets. With any luck, his new lady friend would get him killed sooner rather than later. Punching in his five-digit code, he took the lift down to his basement flat and pulled his key-card from his pocket. Swiping it briskly, he heard the lock click open, but then he paused. Opening the door a fraction and listening attentively, his ears reassured him that all was well. Gentle snoring sounds carried down from upstairs and apart from the odd drip from a leaky faucet and the soft hum of the halogen entry light there was little cause for concern.

Heading straight for the first-aid kit, which he stored in the kitchen, he located a pair of tweezers, some sterile swabs, a strip of butterfly sutures, and a roll of gauze dressing. Gingerly pulling down his jeans, he let out a hiss as the fabric dragged at his wound but it only hindered his progress by a second or two. Thankfully, the entry site had stopped oozing blood, but he suspected that was all about to change as soon as he dug the bullet out.

The annoying thing was that he had a vial of morphine stashed away in his cupboard but if they were about to make a big getaway, there was no way he could use it and remain lucid. Oh well, he’d endured worse shit than this.

Peeling back the skin so he could get a better look at the bullet, he gritted his teeth. He knew he’d only get one shot at this. If he managed to pull it out in one go, everything would be fine. If he fucked up, he’d be straight to the cupboard for the good stuff and his little chit upstairs could go straight to hell. Deciding not to think about the feat he was about to perform, he flexed his fingers and dove straight in. Deep. Trying to keep the level of his voice as low as possible as he dived in through nerves and sinew, he still managed to utter an impressive vocabulary of swear words. The pain was white hot and burning, but somehow he managed to get each end of the tweezers around the metal bullet and tug them backwards. With a soft popping sound, he had his prize. Looking at the blood soaked item with morbid fascination for a moment, he then swore as a stream of blood began spattering upon the floor. Immediately dropping the bullet and tweezers, he turned his attention to stemming the flow of blood by applying plenty of pressure with the inside of his wrist. Using his spare hand, he managed to peel off a couple of suture strips and did a rough job of patching himself back together, finishing with a neat circular bandage. In a few hours, the skin would knit over nicely but for now, his makeshift field dressing would keep most of the blood inside him where it belonged.

Straightening his leg, he flexed it to make sure he still retained full movement then satisfied that everything was still working at it should, he padded towards his office. Although the house wasn’t particularly warm since the automatic timer for the heating had switched off several hours ago, he didn’t feel the cold as he walked around the house in his boxers. It was one of the bonuses of being a vampire—if being dead could be called a
bonus
. He’d put another pair of jeans on before he awoke the hellcat upstairs but right now, he had travel plans to sort out.

Heading straight for his office, he flipped open the lid of his laptop and wasted no time pulling up the British Airways website. They could not stay in the UK waiting for the threat to be assessed and mitigated by HQ. Whilst he was more than happy to take on a Master and fly quickly to his tombstone, duty required him to keep her alive to the best of his abilities, which meant caution was required. He was constantly amused that even after all these years he still had something resembling a conscience. It would be his downfall one of these days.

Inserting the relevant details into the search box, he found evening flights from Heathrow airport that would take them to Paris, Rome, Milan, Geneva, Barcelona or Berlin. Carefully considering his options, he decided on Paris purely because he was more familiar with it than any of the others, and that might come in useful if things got tricky. Judging by the incident at Club Caress, she was a desperately wanted women and travelling to the ends of the earth probably wasn’t going to keep her safe until the problem could be
eliminated
, if that was even possible.

His fingers flew over the keyboard as he booked two seats in club class. He added a hotel to his itinerary before he realised he had a problem. Picking up the telephone, he dialled up HQ and rolled his eyes when Lucius answered on the first ring.

“I’ve just been shot,” he grumbled into the phone.

“Then you’re getting slow in your old age,” purred Lucius’s French accent, and his amusement was obvious.

“There were two of them and four bullets at once. I’d like to see you avoid that, fledgling.” Lucius was younger than he was by a paltry three hundred years, and Mercer liked to torment him of the fact at every opportunity.

“You’re still alive, so what’s the problem?” That was the Lucius he knew and loved. He didn’t have a sympathetic bone in his body.

“I don’t know her name, her full name anyway.”

“You need to know her name to fuck her? My, you are losing your touch in your old age.” Lucius laughed.

Mercer sighed and growled, “I need her name to book her on a flight and get her the hell out of here. So give me a name. I don’t even care which, her real one or whatever name you guys are using for her.”

“And why can’t you ask her?”

“She’s a pain in the ass so I’ve knocked her out and I intend to keep her that way for as long as necessary.”

“Interesting…so you haven’t fucked her yet but you’re already running scared. This is going to be good. Excuse me for a moment.” Lucius clucked his tongue, and then he covered the phone as he began barking out instructions to one of his colleagues. “Right, her name is Lainey Hargreaves and her passport is now being couriered to you. A thousand pounds says you don’t manage to fuck her before the week is out.”

“You know I hate taking your money, right, Lucius?”

Laughter greeted him from the other side of the telephone. “I wish you luck, my friend, because let me tell you, you’re going to need it.” The line went dead.

Chapter 3

Mercer shook his head and narrowed his eyes.
A week?
That was the longest bet Lucius had ever made, which was very interesting. He wondered why he considered this woman so special. Anyway, it mattered not because he didn’t want to fuck the lady, so it would be a blessing if Lucius won. It would also be a first.

After the flights were booked, Mercer decided he was once again brave enough to don some clothes. Pulling on a crisp white Armani shirt, he buttoned up his cufflinks and slowly dragged another pair of jeans up his legs. Checking the wound site, he looked down at the bullet hole, and was pleased to note that the skin had already started to mend, although it looked rather angry and red. Avoiding putting any unnecessary pressure on the site, he quickly fastened himself up and dragged on a pair of smart black loafers giving them a quick shine as he did so. Finally, after throwing a few items of clothing in an overnight bag, he decided he’d better go upstairs and face the music.

His feet took the stairs slowly even as his left leg protested at the stretching movement but it couldn’t be helped. He had an agenda. Wake the girl up, get her out of here, and put her into a hotel where they could sleep the day away. Then they could board their flight and escape this mess. He only hoped he’d get some answers somewhere along the line as well.

At the top of the stairs, he paused listening to her soft even snores. Looking at his watch, he sighed. He couldn’t let her sleep any longer without risk of discovery. It was time to get moving.

Pushing open the door to the guest room, his lips were just about to voice her name, when his eyes focused themselves on the bed. It was empty. What was more someone had taken the time to remake it, and for a second he began to wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him. No, he’d heard snoring, he was sure of that. She had to be here. Scanning the room from left to right rapidly, he found no sign of her. There was only one other place she could be, the bathroom. Maybe she’d fallen asleep in the bath.

Striding towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, he felt an almost imperceptible current of air behind him and realised he had seriously underestimated the tenacity of his little kitten. As the full force of a heavy bronzed art deco lamp connected with his skull, he fell to the floor with a thud. A torrent of shattering lead glass rained down upon him to add insult to injury.

Angry

Lainey wasted no time slamming the door wide open and taking a long flying leap over the fallen vampire. She knew the chances of escaping him were slim, but she had to try. If the foretelling of her future was true, one of the undead would try to lead her to her death, and she was determined to avoid that eventuality at all costs. Taking the stairs two at a time, she could already hear movement from above and knew he would already be on his feet. Cursing under her breath, she looked about frantically for an exit. Hurrying into the kitchen, she spun round twice before she located the outside door. Breathing heavily, she placed shaking fingers along the smooth chrome handle and began to turn it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the mean-looking vamp heading straight towards her and he did not look happy.

Feeling her breath freeze in her throat, she turned the handle to its fullest extent and pushed as hard as she could. Nothing happened. Watching as he slowly advanced upon her, his blazing gold eyes now dangerously dark with anger, she anxiously rattled the doorknob to no avail. Looking around for a key, she then spied the pad of numbers by the door and knew her luck had run out. Dashing to the lounge, she looked around desperately for another exit. She found nothing bar a couple of tiny rectangular windows situated near the ceiling that she could neither reach nor fit through easily. Starting to panic, she screamed as the vampire slowly advanced towards her. Walking backwards as fast as her feet could carry her it still came as a shock when her body hit the wall. That was nothing compared to having an angry beast slamming her into the plasterboard.

He stared at her with amber eyes that cut right through her and she shuddered, closing her eyes and praying that this was all some terrible dream. When she noticed him open his mouth to speak her teeth clenched together tightly, and she let out a little sob. This was no dream.

Twirling a lock of her blonde hair around in his long fingertips, he spoke slowly and purposefully while dragging her eyes up to meet his, and holding them there effortlessly.

“Today I was hauled out of bed at a ridiculous hour and told to rescue an idiot that had been buried somewhere in a field. That took quite a bit of energy, but I complied with orders. Next, I find you’ve been bitten by a Master vampire who pretty much guarantees your death as well as mine seeing as I’ve been sent to protect you. When I venture out to feed, I get shot. When I return, I get belted across the back of the head with a lamp. You could not make my day any less pleasurable if you tried, so I think we need to establish some ground rules here and they are quite simple. You will do as you’re told.”

He yanked on the curl he had captured and she had no choice but to stare at his mesmerising gold eyes. Swallowing at the invisible lump in her throat, she tried to force her head away from his dangerous gaze but could not break his hold over her. She wanted to roar in exasperation, for this mess could rival the Minos Labyrinth. She felt helpless and frustrated. They were two emotions she had very little experience with and she preferred it that way.

“Or what?” Lainey tried to bite back the retort but it was too late, the damage was done. When the vamp looked down at her, his eyes were rapidly darkening and his face was contorting with anger. She swallowed hard knowing she’d pushed him too far. Instinctively trying to back up, the wall was unforgiving and she smacked her head against it. His head was coming towards hers yet there was not a thing she could do about it. Wanting to scream, all that came out of her mouth was a pathetic little squeak.

He didn’t stop until his forehead rested against hers, his breath blowing heated little flutters against her lip. Her pulse immediately rocketed into orbit and her senses fled. She was only aware of his tempting soft lips, and a great urge to kiss them. For a second, she had a strangled moment of indecision, unsure whether she was willing her body to remain still or urging it to close those last few millimetres separating her mouth from his. Still stranded in torment, he smiled at her as if he knew the inner struggle she was having, and finally made the decision for her.

Pulling back abruptly, he put some distance between them by slamming both of his outstretched arms on either side of her head. It made her jump. Eyes which had licks of red and orange flames resting in their depths connected once again with hers, and although he was a little further away this time, it didn’t make him seem any less intimidating.

“A nice punishing kiss would probably keep you in line for a couple of days, I think. Should I bruise those soft sweet lips of yours and train them to worship mine? I have a feeling though that once I get a taste for you there’ll be no going back. Then again, seeing a lovesick doe-eyed look in those eyes wouldn’t be so bad. What do you say?” He unleashed the full power of his smile upon her and whilst there was no warmth behind it, Lainey got the message.

“No,” she whispered, immediately understanding what he had threatened. “I’ll do whatever you say, no questions asked.” She could not be bitten under any circumstances.

He huffed out a breath, and slowly removed his hands from the wall. Lainey sighed with relief as she had a little breathing space back but something akin to disappointment washed through her veins, and it horrified her. She could not feel this way, especially anywhere near a vampire.

“Well, I guess that spoiled all my fun for the evening,” he said regretfully. “But it should make the next couple of days rather interesting because at the first sign of disobedience, I’m claiming my kiss, Miss Hargreaves. Are we clear?” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a lopsided grin.

Lainey shuddered. “Crystal.”

“Good.”

“Who are you?” There was a hint of fear in her voice.

“My name is Mercer.”

“Mercer who?” Lainey pushed her hands against his chest and he backed up a little bit, allowing her a chance to examine him.

“That’s all you need to know. Now as I’ve had a really tough day, you can pop on into the kitchen and go make me a cup of tea. Earl grey, steeped for three minutes, no milk, and a slice of lemon. Chop, chop.”

Her jaw nearly dropped down to the floor, and Lainey could do nothing but stare at him. When his arm immediately snaked around her neck, his fingers entwining in her hair to force her towards him, her mouth opened of its own accord and a little gasp of air escaped. His thumb stroked along her pulse point and he licked his lips suggestively.

“What’s it to be, Lainey, the cup of tea or the kiss?” His eyes held her transfixed as if in limbo and she could not break their control. He grinned and lowering his lashes, he focused on her lips for the longest time, tormenting her. She willed him to take the final step and finish what he’d started but eventually his eyes dragged themselves back up to hers, and then he broke contact, looking away abruptly. Blinking rapidly, and with her heart rate pounding out of control, she pushed past him roughly and sped out of the room.

Her fingers were visibly shaking when she reached the benign interior of the kitchen. She found the spotlight bulbs above her blinding, and the abundance of shiny chrome everywhere merely heightened the effect. The vampire obviously liked to keep things clean and tidy. Dragging the kettle from its stand, she took a deep breath and filled it with water.
A vampire
. How could she get away from a vampire who could hear a pin drop and run faster than a freight train?

Lainey flexed her fingers trying to still the tremors running through them, and swore. Trapped by sexy vampire and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Rattling through drawers to find his desired tea bags, and slamming them when they didn’t contain what she needed made her feel marginally better. There was something cathartic about making lots of noise and she intended to indulge herself.

“Keep the noise down in there, or your ass will be over my lap. I kid you not, woman, and for God’s sake hurry up.” Letting out a frustrated yelp, Lainey nearly fell over when his voice boomed into her eardrums, but just managed to maintain control.

Wanting to smash her fist into one of his cupboards at his high-handedness, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She could get through this. It might only be for a few more days but then, everything would go back to normal. She hoped. Sighing, she eventually found a drawer that appeared to hold all manner of teas and coffees, and found a packet labelled
Twining’s Earl Grey
.

It took her three attempts to get the tea bag in the damn cup. Maddened, she clenched her fingers to stop the trembling and had to take a couple of deep breaths before she finally nailed it. Pouring the hot water very slowly, she then let it stand for a little while, as ordered, before gingerly grabbing the mug’s handle. Turning around, she braced herself to face him again, only it was to be a quicker reunion than she’d expected. Mercer was standing right behind her.

Screeching in fright, the cup almost dropped to the floor and would have but for his lightning-quick reflexes. He was able to thrust it upwards and grab it out of her hands before any real damage was done. Somehow, he managed not to spill a single drop of the boiling hot water.

“That was two minutes and I believe I said three.” The gleaming gold eyes were not happy.

Lainey looked at him, and couldn’t help a little hiss of displeasure. Her eyes narrowed. “If you’d waited in the lounge, it would have been three minutes by the time I’d reached you. I walk very slowly.” She smiled a big sweet smile that was even more artificial than saccharine.

Unfortunately, his resulting smile trumped hers. Moving over to sink, he dumped the contents of the mug down it.

“What are you…?” she roared, but he cut her off mid-sentence.

“I just wanted to see if you could obey orders. Congratulations. It appears that you can. Now be a good girl, run upstairs and put on the clothes I’ve laid out on the bed.”

“I’m not doing…” This time her sentence was cut short because two strong arms had lifted her feet out from under her and in less than a blink of an eyelid, she found herself back in the guestroom and looking at a short navy wool skirt with matching jacket neatly placed on the bed. In addition, there were two wisps of blue lace almost resembling a bra and panties bar the lack of material, a sheer silk blouse, and a set of nude stockings with a matching garter belt. A pair of patent leather sandals in the same colour scheme completed the look.

“Oh no! There is no way in hell that I am wearing that around you.” Lainey folded her arms tight across her chest and gave him a mutinous look. Her foot tapped out her agitation on the floor and it was a Beethoven 5th symphony type of tune—angry, fiery and passionate. Only, her refusal had no effect on him in the slightest.

Strolling casually past her, his hand reached out towards the ridiculous pair of panties and he rolled them slowly into a ball. He then strode into the en-suite bathroom followed by the sound of a flushing toilet.

“Naughty girls don’t get to wear panties,” he said as he returned, wearing a look of dark determination.

“I’m already wearing panties,” she bit out, “and I repeat, I am not wearing any of that.” She pointed to the garments on the bed in a fit of rage, in case he was in any doubt.