“Hmm.You don’t want me to be uncomfortable? I notice you didn’t answer my other questions.”
He glanced at her, his expression serious. “Where are we going? We’re going to my secret lair, the one nobody knows about.It’s a few minutes out of town. Am I going to kill you? Well, that’s a tricky question.”
Having let the warmth and the illusion of safety lull her into a false sense of security,Malveaux’s words hit Tempest like a bucket of ice water. She sat up rigidly and jerked her head in his direction, her stomach knotted with anxiety.
“What? What was that you said about killing me? What’s tricky?”
She’d met plenty of society’s dregs in her time, but something about the insanity of this situation threatened to turn her bowels liquid.Something about him. After what she’d seen him do, she understood that she was in dangerous territory. Who knew what would set a psycho off?
She eased her hand onto the door handle and estimated how fast the car was going.Malveaux didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to plow through the packed snow to reach their destination. He kept the speed at about around twenty miles per hour. She could just lift the handle and roll out. The snow would cushion her abrupt exit. She’d be a human Popsicle, but at least she’d be alive.
Slowing her breathing, she darted a glance at him to find him studying her. Shit. Could the a**hole really read her mind?
Apparently.
“What about your guitar?And your cherished briefcase? I thought those things were important to you?
How will you take them with you if you just leap out of the car right now? It’s so cold out there; your gorgeous little ass might freeze right off.” He smiled, resting an arm along the back of Tempest’s seat.
“But by all means, try the door. Satisfy your adorable curiosity. I’ll let you.”
The combination of fear and anger made her feel wired and exhausted at the same time. It probably wouldn’t be good to launch into a feminist discussion of the “I’ll let you” thing. She doubted if bloodsucking monsters worried about being politically correct.
If the psycho found the idea of her opening the door entertaining, that meant he was up to something. He probably had it locked, or booby trapped, or some weird-ass thing. But she couldn’t not try, damn it, even if the a**hole got a rush out of it. Shit. She was thinking again, and he was probably listening in.
He smiled, gently nodding his head. “You have the most amazing mind, Tempest. We’re going to make such a marvelous team. And, yes, of course the door is locked.” He tapped a button on his door. “I wouldn’t want anyone to reach in and pluck out my precious cargo.”
She swiveled her gaze to the window, almost expecting to see plucking hands reaching out for her. She released the breath she’d been holding and pulled the blankets more tightly aroundherself . It figured that Malveaux’s ride would have locks that only he could open.
“Okay. I get it. You’re all-powerful, and I’m trapped in the car. Go back to the ‘killing me’ comment.
Why is it tricky? Either you’ll kill me or you won’t.” Her eyes shifted down to his lap. “And why thef**k do you have a continuous hard-on?”
He smiled, the blood spattered all over his face and clumped in his hair making him look like one of the Scottish warriors in Braveheart at the end of a losing battle. “My continuous hard-on is the reason you’re here, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. And you actually won’t be dead. Well, maybe you will be, technically, but not in the quantum sense.”
Anger and Impatience wrestled down Fear and took center stage.
“What the f**k are you talking about? Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? I’m just a struggling musician, paying my dues. All I want is to sign a recording contract, have a great band, and get laid when I get the urge.Just your ordinary, everyday American gal. Why would you target me for this kind of perverted psycho-shit?”
Tempest couldn’t believe it was possible for this sick whacko to still be gorgeous while covered in gore, butMalveaux was. It should be against the rules for a fiend to come in such a perfect package. He met her gaze with wide blue eyes, looking as innocent as a blood-covered demon could.
“I didn’t target you. Meeting you was actually a stroke of monumental luck. I had just eliminated a couple of newborn vampires in an alley down the street and chose that bar because it was close. I didn’t know that particular establishment had entertainment, at least any kind that involved people wearing clothing. I’d just been thinking about my need to find a permanent sex partner, and there you were.”
She glared at him. “Hold on, sailor. What do you mean, permanent sex partner?Permanent how?”
“Permanent, as in forever.Ah, here we are.Lair, sweet lair.”
Malveauxstopped the car, and Tempest finally noticed that they’d driven away from the lights of the city
-- which she could see in the distance -- and were in a relatively deserted section of what appeared to be a ghost town. Of course, it probably wasn’t a real ghost town, just an abandoned area.
Thanks to the illumination of the full moon, Tempest saw the outline of a huge, dilapidated factory behind a broken chain-link fence. An old sign identified the building as an auto factory, which had apparently been a casualty of one of the country’s frequent economic downturns.
Tempest pointed at the empty building. “Is this where we’re going? You live in this rat-infested death trap? Holy shit, did I have the wrong idea about you. No wonder you didn’t want to go to your place to f**k.”
Malveauxlaughed. “Well, I’ve certainly spent time in worse places, but the factory isn’t our destination tonight.” He pointed across the street from the factory. “Welcome to one of the oldest churches in theMidwest . Not only is it old, but it has an illustrious history. Some enterprising souls dug secret rooms and tunnels underneath. It’s vampire heaven, so to speak.”
Tempest stared at the large, boarded-up church. “Wait a minute. Haven’t you got your mythology all messed up? If you’re pretending to be a vampire, shouldn’t you be afraid of churches? Shouldn’t you burst into flames if you even stick a toe in one? And, for that matter, wouldn’t that box of crap back at the mobster’s office have sent you screaming?Holy water, crucifixes, garlic? Aren’t those usually the weapons of choice against you bloodsucking night crawlers?”
Malveauxsmiled wide, the tips of his fangs waving hello. “This is so great. It never occurred to me that I’d find an offspring with a quick and clever mind, in addition to her other attributes. I can’t wait to seal our bond and have you with me forever. But to answer your questions, all that stuff is bullshit. I won’t go into specifics about how we can actually be killed -- the true death, as it’s called -- but I’ll say that it involves more than jewelry, water, and a bulbous plant. Religion became associated with vampires long ago for political reasons. We were, after all, such convenient scapegoats. Rest assured that if I feel myself about to combust, I’ll give you fair warning to get out of the way.” He laughed heartily, turned the steering wheel, and drove slowly along the side of the church. Reaching the rear, he angled the Jag into an old shed only a few feet wider than the car, and turned off the ignition.
Quicker than it should have been possible,Malveaux was out of the car and standing in the tiny bit of space left between the open passenger door and the wall of the shed. He extended a hand. “Your chamberawaits,m’lady . I’ll have you all warm and writhing in no time.”
He gently tugged her out of the car and scooped her up into his arms, tightly securing the blankets.
Tempest’s stomach clenched. He really was taking her into some abandoned church. Maybe he was going to do some bizarre satanic ritual, or something. She started to think she wasn’t going to make it out of this situation alive, and after she came to that realization, a strange calm settled over her. She hadn’t done most of the things she’d dreamed about in her short life, but she always suspected she wouldn’t make it much past thirty. Look at Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hendrix, or Janis Joplin.Some of her father’s idols. She guessed she was in good company. Although none of them got taken out by some vampire-wannabe psycho-freak. At least she didn’t think so.
But it wasn’t over until it was over. The fat lady hadn’t sung yet.
Malveauxheld her easily with one hand while he closed the old wooden door to the shed with the other.
As he moved quickly toward the back door of the church, Tempest spied the tire tracks in the otherwise pristine snow. The Jag had been the only car on the road for quite a while.Nothing like leaving a white map. She thought for a moment that maybe the cops would find the tracks, come investigate, and she’d be saved, but that wasn’t a likely scenario. She remembered the a**holeswho’d snatched her, and, although she didn’t buy for one minute pretty boy’s Dracula routine, she didn’t want to lead anymore sadistic perverts to her location, even if she was going to be a sacrificial lamb. Maybe she could befriend the lunatic.
“Hey,fuckwad .Way to advertise your lair. Don’t you have every family member in the inner city searching for your ass?”
Malveauxstopped and looked down at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Some badass vampire you are. Turn around. Walk back toward the front of the church.”
He turned, and even before taking more than a couple of steps, he saw the problem.
“Shit. I can’t believe how distracted I’ve been. You’re right. We don’t need any more uninvited company. Thanks. You’re a good offspring already.”
Back to the offspring stuff again.What a sick f**k. How could he possibly be walking around na**d in this weather? That must be another sign of his mental illness: insensitivity to cold or heat.
“Yeah, that’s me.Offspring of the year.Suziefrickin ’ Sunshine.”
“Are you freezing? Or can you stand being out here a few more minutes?”
“Why?”
He sighed. “I’ll assume you’ll be okay for a few minutes. It would take longer to explain than to just do it.”
He strode down the driveway out to the street, sucked in a big breath, and then blew so much air at the snow on the road and the driveway that he created a mini-blizzard. Drifts formed, covering the tire tracks. He’d created a wind storm with his own breath! He surveyed his work, then sucked in another big breath, and blew the shit out of even more of the street.
Stalking back up the driveway, he veered over to the back door, sucked in another large volume of air, and blew away the tracks and his footprints.
“That ought to be camouflage enough. Let’s go.”
No way. She didn’t just see him do that. Even mental cases couldn’t do stuff like that, could they?
Could it be possible? Could he really be a…? No, absolutely not.
The church looked like it hadn’t been used for a long time. They entered the back door, immediately jagged to the right, and descended a long staircase. It was pitch black with not one pinprick of light anywhere. It was weird that the deviant could see to walk so fast. He’d probably counted the stairs, or something.
By the time they reached the bottom, they’dzigged andzagged , opened creaking doors, and gone deep enough into the Earth to assume the location had been an old mining operation or a stairway to Hell.
She feltMalveaux reach out to open the last door, and a faint light shone from the large room ahead.
They stepped into the dimly illuminated expanse, and he released Tempest, standing her in the center of the dormitory-like space.
“Welcome to Vampire Sanctuary, my lovely offspring. A hot shower, a hard cock, and immortality await you.”
Chapter Ten
“What is this place?” Tempest asked, eyeballing the shadowy room. “It looks like some kind of World War I barracks.”
“I think it’s older than that, actually. It does appear to have been used as a hideaway. There are tunnels leading to old railroad tracks and the river. I can tell you that it’s been well-used. I sense a torrent of human emotions lingering here.So much pain. Humans have so many ingenious ways to torture each other. We vampires are angels of mercy, comparatively speaking.”
Malveauxwalked over to a huge fireplace roughly carved out of the main wall and struck a match. He knelt, touching the flame to a pile of kindling and logs, and watched the fire catch.
Tempest smirked. “So, now you’re a vampire and a ghost buster. Are you saying you’re psychic, or you’re one of those woo-woo ‘I talk to dead people’ guys?”
Malveauxstood and locked eyes with her. “You can’t fool me, you know. Your thoughts give you away.
You’ve got the false bravado down pat, but it won’t save you. It won’t keep me from doing what I intend to do.” He inched toward her, the movement quietly malevolent.
Tempest clutched the blankets tighter around her body, a slight tremble in her hands. She cleared her throat. “Just exactly what do you intend to do?”
He edged closer, almost touching her. “I’ll make this very clear for you. I am a vampire . In fact, I’m a 200-year-old vampire. The one who made me -- my sire -- had some unique characteristics in addition to being a nightwalker. During his mortal years, he was obsessed with sex. I guess he’d be called a sex addict today. After he was turned against his will by one of his lovers, his carnal needs became entwined with his vampirism. When he brought me over, he transferred his sexual peculiarities to me along with everything else.”
He looked down at his relentless erection. “My continuous hard-on is due to the fact that it is my time to bind someone to me to serve my sexual needs, someone who will offer her blood and take mine.