The Last True Vampire (12 page)

What should have been a relatively quick drive to the outskirts of the city became a long, winding path as Ronan traversed side streets and back roads, doubling back toward the south end of the city before merging with the heavily trafficked main streets. “I think we’ve covered our tracks well enough.” Ronan shifted into a higher gear as he wove a path through the throng of late-night traffic. “Time to get the hell out of Dodge.”

“Tell me, female, how did the slayer find you?” Despite Ronan’s confidence, Michael kept a vigilant eye on the surrounding vehicles, expecting an attack at any moment. The Collective still weighed on his mind and his strength was flagging. Ronan was right. Michael would need to feed soon and he wouldn’t feel completely safe until they were back home.

“Slayer?” She repeated the word as though it were foreign. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” A slow, resigned sigh escaped her chest. “And my name is Claire.”

*   *   *

At this point, what would it matter if they knew her real name? Besides, if he called her female one more time she was going to go ballistic. Claire had met some charmers in her life, but Michael took the cake. The bossy attitude he was sporting was just a notch above caveman. Totally unattractive.

So why did her body hum like a tuning fork at the dark, commanding tenor of his voice? Why had she been so worried when he’d collapsed to the ground, his head cradled in his large palms? And why—despite her trepidation—did she know that Michael would die before he let any harm come to her?

“The slayer that attacked you. How did he find you?”

As if adding a couple of extra words would make any of this easier for Claire to comprehend. “The priest? He came into the diner earlier tonight. And I don’t know how he found me.” She’d abandoned her theory that the priest was another hustler trying to scare her away from his property. Now she was leaning toward some sort of Mafia war. Obviously the priest had seen her with Michael at Diablo and thought they were a lot closer than they really were. The mistake wouldn’t have been too tough to make considering the fact she’d been wrapped around him like a second skin. “Whoever the guy was, he was fucking nuts.”

“What did he say to you?” Michael’s warm tone vibrated through her. How could she possibly keep the upper hand when just a few words from him turned her body traitor?

Claire shrugged. “A bunch of crazy shit that made no sense.”

Claire suppressed a shiver as she recalled the endless black depths of the priest’s irises, the dark tendrils that fanned out from his eyes and bled into his skin. His strength and speed. Totally unreal. And the words that caused her stomach to tie itself into knots:
It’s time to draw a little blood. And coax the vampire out of hiding.
No way had she imagined any of it. She had no idea what these guys were involved in, but she wanted no part of it.

“Please,” she said in a last-ditch effort to save her skin, “I promise I won’t talk. Just pull over and let me out.”

“Try to relax, Claire.” Michael spoke as if trying to talk her off a ledge. “You’re among friends. And you’re safe.”

She wanted to call bullshit, but his words rang true. Damn it. Could the night get any crazier? Did she really want to find out?

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Though she couldn’t see him well in the dark interior of the car, Claire felt the tension Michael was throwing off. Energy that buffeted her skin like waves crashing on the shore. The sense that something connected them, like an invisible length of rope, unnerved her. She tried to push the sensation to the back of her mind, but as she settled into the plush leather seat the invisible tether that connected her to him tugged at her center. She wondered, did he feel it, too?

“So … what did this car set you back?” She needed something to distract her from the strange connection vibrating through every cell in her body. Claire had never owned a junker car, let alone ridden in one that cost more than ten years’ worth of her rent. When would she get the opportunity again to talk about luxury cars with someone able to afford one?

“About three-seventy-five with all the extras.” Ronan spoke about the price of an Aston Martin Vanquish like some people talked about buying a case of soda.

Beneath the long sleeve of Claire’s shirt, the Patek’s cool metal caressed her skin, reminding her of how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place. She’d held on to that damned watch like the spoils of war, too covetous to even sell it off to her fence. Michael was doing that with her now. He’d all but declared her his property, killed a man to take possession of her. And now Michael was carting her off to god knew where with a warning that he wouldn’t hesitate to punish her if she stepped a toe out of line.

Jesus Christ, Claire, have you lost your mind?
She should be forming an escape plan, not worrying about the welfare of one captor while exchanging small talk with the other about the price tag of his sweet ride. Not once had she ever doubted her instincts to steer her wrong, but there was a first time for everything. She might have felt at ease with these guys, but they were dangerous. Deadly. And obviously insane considering the fact that they’d tipped their teeth with fake vampire fangs. She hadn’t been able to get out of the car before they’d locked her inside. Didn’t matter, though. They’d have to stop soon, and when they did she’d make a break for it.

Forty-five minutes later, Claire found herself staring out of the window at the twinkling lights of L.A. from the top of a tall hill. This far from the city, it looked like a vast universe, stars shining through the endless darkness. So this was how the 1 percent lived. Looking down from the clouds like the gods of Olympus at the world below. It was just her luck that she’d be kidnapped by wealthy psychopaths. She’d have to endure the added torture of being taunted by luxury she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever knowing.

And to top it all off, it appeared they were planning on holding her prisoner inside of a freaking castle. Guards sat in a little building beside a wrought-iron gate waiting to let the car through. Who in the hell was this Michael that he needed a small army’s worth of protection? She didn’t doubt that they were well armed and even better trained. Deranged cosplayer was taking a backseat to drug czar at the moment.
Holy. Shit.

“I don’t envy your power bill,” Claire remarked wryly as Ronan pulled into a paved circular driveway complete with a massive marble fountain. Beside the six-car garage, the main house stretched on for what seemed like miles. Hell, Claire had seen a hotel or three smaller than this house. In fact, she had a hard time wrapping her head around why anyone would need a house this big. A small village could have taken up residence here and the chances of running into any of your housemates would still be slim. Claire was fairly sure she could live her entire life off of the money Michael—or Ronan, or whoever—had paid for this place.

Just … wow.

Right on cue the front door opened and a man stepped out from the house, his shadow outlined in the swath of light cutting through the darkened portico. He stepped up to the car and opened Michael’s door for him.
Huh
. A castle, complete with a servant. Was he loyal, though? With any luck, Claire would be able to buy her freedom and the guy currently offering up a polite greeting might be her ticket out of there.

A few presumably polite words were exchanged between the two, too low for Claire to hear. She muttered under her breath in a dark and broody voice, “Get the dungeon ready, Jeeves. Extraheavy shackles for our prisoner.”

From the front seat Ronan burst out in a round of robust laughter. “It’s about time we had someone around here with a sense of humor.”

She shifted in her seat and leaned over the center console. “You think I’m kidding?”

Before Ronan could respond, her door was pulled open and Michael leaned down, his arm outstretched. Nothing like extending a gentlemanly hand after forcing a woman bodily into a car and kidnapping her. “Claire,” he said in that insufferably commanding tone. “Come inside.”

“I’m good where I am.”

His eyes flashed silver and Claire’s heart jumped into her throat. “Come inside, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you inside.”

She folded her arms across her chest and relaxed back into the seat. No way was she going to make this easy for him. He could try to intimidate her all he wanted. Not even his crazy Riddick eyes were going to coax her out of the car. Fake fangs, weird contact lenses.
Jesus, who are these guys?

Michael reached into the backseat and Claire wished for a moment that she hadn’t called his bluff. He latched on to her legs and spun her around until she was laid out on the seat. As slick as going down a waterslide, she was pulled across the leather upholstery and hefted in the air again as though she weighed nothing. A squeal of protest erupted from her throat as he deposited her on top of one massive shoulder, leaving her head to dangle over his back, her hair cascading almost to the ground.

“Put me down!”

“I warned you.” With each step, her breath was forced from her chest and she had no choice but to dangle there like a sack of potatoes or else rest her hands on his ass to brace herself. “I always follow through, Claire. If you insist on testing me, be prepared for the consequences.” She tried to ignore the solid mass of muscle carting her through the front door, the way his high-priced slacks hugged the very ass she’d just considered latching on to.

“Yeah,” she said through a huff of breath. “Well … if you don’t … put me … down…”—holy crap, she was going to pass out from all the blood currently rushing into her brain—“we’re going to have a
very
serious problem.”

“The slayers have found you. They won’t stop until you’re dead. I’d say we already have a very serious problem. Wouldn’t you agree?”

If this was a dream, Claire was more than ready to wake up.

CHAPTER

10

“I know it’s been a while, Mikhail, but you really need a refresher on how to deal with the fairer sex.”

Michael narrowed his gaze but didn’t bother to look at Ronan. No, his eyes were fixed on Claire, sitting ramrod straight on the plush, never-used sofa in the formal living room. She stared straight ahead, her golden eyes focused on nothing. Her arms hugged her body and her left hand fiddled with something bulky against her skin, hidden by the long sleeve of her shirt. Michael’s fingers twitched as he took in the sight of her hair, a glimmering cascade of gold that fell over her shoulder in silky sheets. Gods, how he wanted to run his fingers through that length.

“Ronan is right.” Alex bent close to Michael as though worried Claire might overhear. “This isn’t her world. This isn’t an adjustment that can be made in a matter of minutes. For all she knows, you’re a psychopath.”

Michael cast a sidelong glance at the human and arched a brow.

Alex shrugged and averted his gaze. “Of course
we
know you’re not a psychopath. All I’m saying is that you should try to be patient with her. Ease her into the situation.”

Michael let out a slow breath. As though tethering his soul had been a slow and gradual thing. Hadn’t he been thrown into this situation as well? Blindsided with the immediacy of Claire’s effect on him. Beside him, Ronan was perched at the bar, helping himself to the bottle of sixty-year-old Macallan. How could he be so cavalier after everything that had happened tonight? How could Alex? The Sortiari would be looking for them, adding another layer to an already-complicated situation. And rather than worry about their meager defenses, the two of them wanted to school him on chivalry?

“I haven’t mistreated her.”

“You haven’t lavished her with tender affection, either,” Ronan pointed out. “I hate to break it to you, my friend, but as a general rule, women’s hearts aren’t won through kidnapping and violence.”

Alex pursed his lips, his eyes widening a fraction as though he agreed with Ronan. But rather than speak his mind, Alex busied himself elsewhere, leaving them to their discussion as Ronan poured another Scotch and slid the squat glass toward Michael.
Thank gods.
He drank deeply, letting the liquor wash away the resurging thirst that burned in his throat. “I’m not interested in winning her heart. Only taking her vein.”

They spoke in hushed tones, though Claire kept her gaze straight ahead, effectively ignoring them. Where was the fiery female who’d begged for his attentions at the nightclub? The woman who’d tried to defy him not an hour ago on the darkened street? Why did he even care? She was here for one reason and one reason only: to provide him with blood and the strength he needed to resurrect his race.

Vampires and dhampirs alike possessed many traits that would be considered primal by human standards. They were predators after all, hunters. They fought like animals, protected their loved ones like animals. Coveted their mates with the fierceness of wild beasts. And there were some who coveted their own souls above all else. The soulless existence of a vampire was seen as an abomination to them, despite the prospect of a tether. Michael’s mate would be seen as a threat. Any creature who sought to do his mate harm would meet a violent end. “Steps will need to be taken to ensure her continued protection.”

“Time to circle the wagons,” Ronan replied with a smirk. “Amass our allies and all that?”

The human had awakened Michael. Her soul had roused his from endless slumber and her blood had given him strength the likes of which he’d never thought possible. “It is time to amass an army,” he replied.

Claire stood from the couch and crossed the expanse of the living room to where Michael and Ronan stood at the bar. Michael straightened, set his glass down on the granite countertop. Her gaze pinned him in place, the intensity of those bright eyes and the stubborn set of her delicate jaw lending her a fierceness that stole his breath. “How long do you think you can keep me here?”

Ronan cleared his throat and set his glass down. “This is my cue to take my leave.” Michael expected Ronan to help him build an army of vampires and the male was ready to tuck tail at the sight of an enraged human female. “I’ll need you here after the sun rises. Alex will be here but—”