“Yeah. I can understand being concerned that the war between vampire factions might spill out into public view, but the shifters aren’t causing any trouble that I’ve heard of.”
It was close to midnight that evening when George Flynn walked in, looking as dapper as ever. Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Deadly drew the eyes of every woman in the place. He sat at the bar and ordered our most expensive whisky.
“I hear you’ve had some problems recently,” he said when I gave him his change.
“I’ve heard the same about you. How badly was the club damaged?”
Flynn shook his head. “I talked to the insurance agent tonight, and I think we’ll end up razing the place and building from scratch.” He took a sip of his whisky, then his eyes zeroed in on me with an intensity he rarely displayed. “I can’t believe Barclay attacked Jordan Blair. The man truly has gone off the rails.”
“I doubt the young vamps he sent to kidnap me knew who Blair was. It’s not as though Barclay gets his hands dirty.”
“You’ve taken additional precautions, I hope.”
“Yeah, I have.” Considering Gallagher’s reaction to the question I was about to ask, I shielded. “I asked this of Harry Gallagher, and he got upset and didn’t answer me. I read somewhere that vampires build their forces for a war by turning a lot of young people. Is that true? It seems there are a lot of very young vampires running around getting into trouble.”
Flynn’s eyes narrowed, then he heaved a sigh and leaned back in his chair.
“Yes, I’ll bet that did set Harry off. And yes, you are correct. But Harry and Rodrick started adding to their entourages even before Lord Carleton’s unfortunate encounter with the Hunter. They hate each other, you see, and Rodrick was trying to turn Lord Carleton against Harry.”
I perked up my ears. “Why? Do you know?” Outsiders rarely got insights into the vampires’ world, especially the interactions between older vamps.
“Rodrick considers Harry’s breeding program an abomination. And Harry considers some of Rodrick’s predilections indelicate, to say the least. This feud has been building for over a century.”
I tried to wrap my mind around what Flynn had just said. Vampires were sterile.
“Breeding program?”
He took a large sip of his drink, then said, “Yes. When a vampire is first turned, a male vampire may still be fertile for a short time until his sperm die. The resulting child of a union with a human woman is a dhampir. Harry breeds for them, and he had seventeen the last time I checked. The oldest, Michaela, is his daughter.” He took another sip of whisky. “Harry was very much in love with his wife, a truly beautiful girl. Unfortunately, a dhampir’s mother never survives the birth.”
“I thought they were a myth,” I said.
“About as rare as Hunters tending bar, I would say,” he said with a grin.
I snorted. “Now you are talking myths.”
Chapter 9
Sam was working behind the bar when I went down for breakfast the following morning. I asked him about dhampir, but he knew less than I did before I talked with Flynn.
When Lizzy came in to ask me if I wanted to join her and Jolene for lunch, she surprised me when I mentioned the subject.
We were driving toward the harbor, and Lizzy said, “Yeah, dhampir are very interesting. People also call them daywalkers. They have the speed and strength of a vampire, but they don’t have the sun allergy, and they only live a few hundred years, at most. They don’t regenerate the way a vampire does, either, though they heal fast.”
“Are they bloodsuckers?” I asked.
“They can live on blood or on normal food.”
“Have you met any?”
“I don’t know. If I have, I didn’t know it. As far as I know, they don’t have anything that really distinguishes them from other people. Which is pretty handy, I guess. Legend says that vampire lords use them as spies and assassins.”
“Can they breed?”
“Ah, now that is an interesting question,” Lizzy said with a laugh. “What I’ve been told is that all dhampir are females and sterile, but I’ve also heard that disputed. Question unresolved at this point.”
We met Jolene at a place on the northern edge of the city, where the coast met the foothills. The view was breathtaking, and I could see the appeal of their outside terrace in the summer. The menu was aimed at an upper-class clientele, and the lunch crowd appeared to be mostly well-dressed women. A case of baked goods we walked by on the way to our table was enough to add pounds simply by proximity.
“Can I afford this place?” I asked before opening my menu.
“Barely,” Lizzy said. “We don’t come here for dinner.”
“Unless someone else is paying,” Jolene said with a laugh.
But the food was great, and the dessert we split three ways was obscenely delicious, so I didn’t mind digging a little deeper than normal to pay the bill.
As we were leaving, a woman drove up in a cherry-red sports car and got out. I stopped in my tracks and stared. Stunning was an often-overused word, but she deserved it. From the top of her immaculately-coifed blonde hair to the thousand-dollar shoes, she was perfect. Tall, blonde, gorgeous, young, and rich.
“Wow. I wonder who that is,” I said. “A movie star in Westport?”
Lizzy shrugged, but Jolene said, “Michaela Gallagher, rich society heiress. Her granddaddy started the largest waste-hauling business in the area, and she inherited it.” Jolene shook her head. “Amazing that you can turn trash into that kind of money.”
I thought she looked damned good for someone a hundred and fifty years old.
I asked Lizzy to drop me off at my apartment so I could pick up a couple of things I’d forgotten—like my hairbrush.
“Do you want me to wait on you?” she asked.
I remembered her saying that she tired easily, and she didn’t look like her normal perky self. I checked my watch, and it was only two-thirty.
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s a long time until dark, and I feel like walking.” I laughed. “It’ll help with all those calories from lunch.”
I went upstairs and found my hairbrush, shampoo, some clothes, and also a novel I’d been reading. I checked where I had left off in the book and remembered it was just getting to an interesting part. I didn’t notice time passing until the light began fading. I looked at my watch and discovered it was getting late. The sun had been setting even before my five o’clock shift started. I had just enough time to get to the bus stop and get to work.
Grabbing everything I had gathered, I raced downstairs and out the door.
When I walked out into the parking lot, I realized I had really misjudged the time. Not only had the sun set, but a black limo was parked in front of the building. The only limousines I was familiar with belonged to vampires, and I immediately shielded.
“Miss McLane,” a voice called from the car. The back door of the limo swung open, and Harry Gallagher got out.
I stopped but remained wary.
He approached me and said, “I felt badly about the way we parted the other evening. I apologize.”
“That’s all right. I was busy, and it was a stressful time,” I said, furiously thinking, trying to figure out what he wanted.
He smiled. In the building’s porch light, he was a striking figure. His expression was soft and welcoming, his eyes… Oh, dear gods, his eyes.
“Please,” he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right? Feeling better?”
He came close enough to bump into my shield, and the expression on his face changed.
“Is that necessary? I’m sorry that Rodrick has frightened you, but I wouldn’t harm you, Erin. You have my word on that.”
I dropped the shield, wondering as I did so if I was being stupid. Gallagher stepped closer, and I took an involuntary step back, running into the wall. He took another step and reached out. His fingertips stroked my cheek.
“I don’t know why you affect me the way you do,” he said. “It’s been a very long time since I felt so attracted to a woman.”
“You probably say that to all the girls,” I said, my voice shaky.
“I assure you, I don’t.” He leaned close, and his lips touched mine.
My heart was racing. His lips were soft and warmer than I expected. I had thought a vampire would be cold. He drew back slightly, looking into my eyes. I fell in, unable to look away. He kissed me again, more fully, and I responded. My bag slipped from my fingers, and I wrapped my arms around him.
The kiss deepened, and he parted my lips with his tongue. His hands slid around me, fanning out over my ass, and pulling me to him. I felt his thigh push between my legs, and then I was pressing and rubbing against him. The kiss went on and on and all my thoughts were replaced by the way he felt against me. His hands, his lips, his hard, broad chest.
I wanted him, like I had never wanted a man before. For the first time in my life, I wanted—needed—a man. Not just any man, but him. I wanted to melt into him and feel him inside me.
Warning bells went off. Red lights flashed. I fed ley line energy into my hands, put them on his chest, and gently pushed him away.
“Not like this,” I said. “No.” I was breathing heavily, and I felt as though I had been running a race. I looked into his face, his eyes, then looked away. “Too fast. I can’t do this. Please, let me go. I need to go to work.”
He took a step back. “I’ll give you a ride.”
I shook my head. If he got me in that car, I had no idea what I might do. I had come close to losing control, and had no faith in my ability to say no a second time.
“It’s all right. I have a ride coming,” I lied. Picking up my bag, I slid across the porch, then turned and jogged toward the apartment complex office. Eleanor still hadn’t closed for the night, and I went in.
“Can I borrow the phone?” I asked.
She glanced up. “Sure, go ahead.”