He came to his feet unsteadily near the sliding door he’d left open and backed onto the balcony.
“No! I’m not finished. I won’t let you ruin my research,” she shrieked from where she was still kneeling on the mattress, her mouth and fangs covered with his blood. Growling, her eyes went wild.
He didn’t know how much of her actions now were due to the potency of his blood alone, or because of the excessive amount of the formula she’d ingested. Most likely, both. Apparently, lack of physical vigor was another possible effect of the formula he’d taken, because he was having a challenging time snapping out of it.
She leapt at him and he stepped aside at the last second. The final thing he heard as she careened over the railing of the balcony was a long, echoing, “Fuuuuuuuck!”
Stunned, he moved to the railing and looked down. There she was, about five or six stories below, splayed out on the ledge of the wider part of the building.
“Well,” he said, knowing she had been rendered incapable of hearing him, “at least it will not take you as long to heal from falling that distance as it would have all the way to the ground below. I do not know whether to be angry or concerned, thanks to your volatile drug, but I do know your days at Devereux International have ended.”
He shook himself, trying to clear the now-lessening effects of the drug, and sent a mental command to the site manager, requesting his immediate appearance.
A few seconds later, a tall, business-suited male vampire popped into the bedroom and stared at the na**d, disheveled Devereux.
“Sir?” He looked slowly around the area, then focused on the bed.
Without divulging all the details, Devereux gave his employee a quick mental rundown of the pertinent facts, and walked him over to the railing. He pointed, noting the obvious. “There she is. Have her treated and interrogated for information about her project. Her employment, of course, will be terminated, and she will be brought to me, accompanied by security, as soon as you have finished with her. I will handle the situation from there. I trust this episode will remain confidential?” He gave the man a steely look.
“Absolutely, sir. As always.”
Devereux scanned the man’s mind to make sure he was loyal. Satisfied, he gestured, releasing the manager to carry out his new orders. He hated to be such a hard-ass, but it hadn’t been his blood that caused Lilly to attack him. It had been her own character.
He was disgusted with himself for not paying closer attention. At the very least, his friends had proven yet again to have faulty intuition about women. Why should he be surprised?
Pleased the drug’s residual effects had finally waned, he gathered his clothing from the chair. He dressed, then said to nobody in particular, “This is done! When I get back, Laurence and Elliott are dead. This ludicrous date night is now over.”
And he was sailing through space and time again.
Date #3
“Wuf—” he huffed as he slammed onto frozen, snow-covered ground.
Scrambling to his feet, he studied the area, preparing himself for the last act in his friends’ miserable play, thankful this would be the final curtain. With their track record, there was no telling what waited for him in this literal and figurative dark night.
Deep snow filled the frigid, desolate landscape, and all around him pine trees and other evergreens were layered with white. He breathed on purpose to watch the air puff like steam from his lips, then folded his arms across his chest and stared up at the blanket of stars, reveling in the beauty of the sky. The cold didn’t bother him — in fact he found it invigorating. He could actually feel the dense silence press against his ears.
I must admit one thing: I have not been bored so far.
He braced his hands around his mouth and called out, “Hello?” half-expecting the word to echo in the stillness.
“Hello.”
That wasn’t an echo.
Startled, Devereux spun toward the speaker, upset that he’d allowed himself to get so caught up in admiring the scenery that he’d missed the arrival of the owner of the feminine voice. What if it had been an enemy? Then, realizing he could hear the heartbeat and smell the blood of the person standing in front of him, he became even more alarmed that the greeting had come from a human woman.
I am definitely not myself. Maybe I am still experiencing some effects of the drug.
“Hello,” he repeated more softly and stared at the beautiful Native mortal. Dressed in only a thin shift, she trembled from the cold. He removed his leather coat, closed the distance between them and wrapped her in the garment. “You are freezing. Why are you outdoors without protection? Where do you live?”
She smiled, her teeth chattering. “I was told you are a god, and I am your sacrifice.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him between two tall trees. “M-m-my lodge is this way.”
What the hell now? Laurence and Elliott have gone too far. Even for them.
He followed, frowning. “I am not a god, and I require no sacrifice. We must warm you, or you will die from exposure.”
They walked quickly to a small shack a short distance from where he’d landed. She opened the door and entered.
He paused in front of the entrance. Detecting no signs of human or vampire brain signatures within, he pushed inside, closing the door behind him.
Animal skins covered the walls and floor of the small room. Flames crackled in the fireplace, and the stuffy air was thick with the smell of wood smoke.
The woman pulled a thick brown skin — bear? — from the pile in the corner, and spread it out along the center of the space. “Please, sit.” She twisted her hands, her breathing quick and shallow.
Fear radiated from her, as much the cause of her trembling as the cold.
Why is she so afraid? He sat, shifting his eyes around the room, looking for the source of her terror.
She removed his coat, folded it next to him, and moved to stand in front of the fire.
He watched her for a few minutes in silence, studying what he could see of her frail body, as the warmth soothed her shivering. Her shiny long, dark hair flowed down her back to her knees. She turned to face him, and his eyes were drawn to the beautiful beaded headband she wore, which was adorned with three small feathers.
She eased close to him and knelt. “I am Eena, your gift.” She stroked her hand along his cheek, then tucked his hair behind his ear. “I must do as I am commanded. I will please you. And feed you.” She spoke in a lifeless tone, like a bad approximation of a human voice. Her frightened eyes were unfocused.
What has happened to cause this panic?
“Who commanded you?” If this was some kind of sick joke Elliott and Laurence had set up, they were in real trouble when he got home. Someone had drugged or entranced the woman.
“I do not know.” She climbed into his lap, straddling him. “I will give you pleasure.” She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Unwilling to participate in an obviously forced encounter, he pulled away. Gently but firmly, he grasped her upper arms to hold her at a distance. He gazed into her eyes, attempting to catch her with his hypnotic vampiric gaze, but failed. “Eena, stop.” He lifted her from his lap. “I do not understand. Who said you were my gift?”
She covered her face with her hands. Her breath caught. The trembling increased. “I do not know.”
Something is very wrong here. The woman is obviously altered.
Now he was certain his friends had nothing to do with this strange development. They would never cause harm to an innocent on purpose. Recalling situations he’d witnessed in the past, he turned his attention to Eena’s brain, seeking evidence of vampire control, and quickly found what he was looking for.
“Eena? Where are the vampires?”
“Vampires!” She covered her face again and rocked up and down for a moment. Then, with an almost primal scream, she bolted up, pulled the door open and ran into the cold night, her long hair flying out behind her.
“Fuck!” Devereux scooped up his coat and dashed after the woman.
He ran with vampire speed and caught her easily, but she collapsed, unconscious, the moment he touched her. He knelt beside her where she lay on the icy ground and checked for vital signs. She was alive, her pulse faint but steady.
Suddenly his senses flashed a warning and a series of bright outdoor lights flared, illuminating a wide circle around him.
“Well, there you are,” a deep, sensual female voice said.
Devereux looked up at the smiling Marilyn Monroe look-alike standing over him. Dressed like she’d gotten lost on her way to a penthouse cocktail party or a movie set, her full-length white fur coat draped open to display a sparkling black gown. The plunging neckline barely concealed the ni**les of her large br**sts. Blonde hair framed her striking face. Harmless-looking light-gray eyes glittered in amusement.
“Here, darling.” She shifted her long silver cigarette holder from one hand to the other and reached out. “Let me help you. That can’t be comfortable.”
Could this night possibly get any more surreal?
He took her hand and pulled himself up, then glanced down at Eena, trying to make sense of what was happening. And, just to see if he could, he tried to think himself back to The Crypt. He would return for Eena with reinforcements.
Nothing. Damn Houdini.
The woman kept smiling, her brows raised. “I know we vampires don’t get cold, or at least not any colder than we already are.” She laughed. “But we really should go inside where it’s less arctic.”
Ignoring her, he once again knelt next to the unconscious Eena. “What have you done to her?” He dispensed with his usual charm, his tone sharp enough to cut a diamond. Something about the over-dressed woman put him on guard.
“Me? I haven’t done anything to her. She’s one of the local natives. I don’t know why she’s practically na**d, or lying in the snow. I’d say since you were obviously the last one to see her, you ought to have some explanation. What did you do to her?”
He lifted Eena into his arms and rose. “I did nothing. She needs warmth and clothing. Now.” He added a layer of mental push to the suggestion and instead of immediately obeying, the woman gave a low-pitched laugh.
How can she ignore my command?
His shock at not being able to control her made him pause. “Perhaps there has been a mistake and you believe I am someone else.”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “No mistake. I know exactly who you are. I’ve been expecting you.” She removed the burning cigarette from the holder and flicked it into a snow bank before tucking the holder into her coat pocket. “Nice to meet you, Devereux. I’m Mary. Bloody Mary to my friends. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He wasn’t sure why he’d taken an instant dislike to her, but he had. He tried to read her mind and was repelled by strong — unusual — boundaries.
Abnormally powerful. Not a good sign.
“Bloody Mary?” Was this merely a colorful nickname or something more ominous?
“Yes, but you may call me Mary for short. It has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
Laurence and Elliott. So dead. He re-fortified his mental barriers, just in case she might pose a threat to his privacy. He intended to end this meeting as quickly as possible, but, knowing Houdini, there was probably a minimum time limit built into the spell, just to torture him.
“I insist we take this young human inside. I do not understand your lack of concern for her safety.” He hugged the woman more tightly to his chest, wishing he had some body warmth to share with her.
“I have the utmost concern for her physical continuation.” She pointed ahead. “Right this way.”
He looked around as they walked. “Where are we?”
“We’re in the thriving metropolis of Barrow, Alaska, which, according to the local Chamber of Commerce, is the northernmost community in the United States. Actually, we’re a few miles out of the area mainly inhabited by humans.” She stepped close and nudged him as they finally reached a structure. “Come on in. Let me show you our headquarters.”
“Headquarters?”
She pointed at the ramshackle building, which looked like it was built a hundred years ago out of discarded materials. “Yes, it looks bad on the outside, but that’s mostly for show. We try to keep a low profile here in the frozen north.”
They stepped into a well-lit entryway with a staircase leading underground. The long, narrow stairs creaked under the weight of their bodies. At the bottom was a rough-hewn door, covered with Native names crudely etched into the wood.
Mary pushed through the door and ushered them into a huge stone cavern filled with attractive leather and suede furniture, thick rugs, Native Alaskan art somehow attached to the rock walls, and Tiffany lamps everywhere — a strange mix of primitive and luxurious, both cozy and functional.
He’d been expecting something much less... civilized.
She spread her arms, indicating the room. “Isn’t this something?
“It is, indeed.” His gaze tracked to the excess of desks and office equipment. “You said this was your headquarters?”
“Yes,” she said, smirking. “See? You zeroed right into the business-at-hand. We heard you were a serious guy. Well, okay then. This is the campaign headquarters for my bid to become Governor of Alaska.”
No. That does not feel right. Something else is going on here.
“You want to run for governor?” He frowned. “You would not be the first vampire to choose to become an elected official, but I am curious why you would desire such a thing. Surely you can influence the local politics just by using your mind.”
“That’s true.” She pointed at Eena, who still hadn’t roused. “Lay her down. We will take care of her now.” Mary smiled, exposing impressive fangs. She shrugged the white fur coat off her shoulders and it fell to the floor.