The Chosen

  --

  Therese hadn't expected it. Not at all. As she lost her balance and went down right on the guy's chest, her only thought was how long it was going to take to get back on her feet and run into the restaurant to find his brother.

  Because, hello, as a pair of vampires, they were not calling 911. The last thing they needed were human medics showing up and taking him into a human hospital--where he'd get admitted, and knowing their luck, go up in flames when sunlight came through the window by his adjustable bed.

  Except that whole get-brother idea didn't happen. As she pushed against his pecs to lift her head, everything came to a crashing halt. Their eyes met, their breath caught--and then he slipped an arm around her waist, a hand onto her nape...and pulled her to his mouth.

  Soft. His lips were so soft...and they trembled against hers, as if he were unsure of what he was doing or maybe affected by something monumental. His body was anything but weak, however. Underneath her, he was big, and he was hard, and she could feel the power emanating from him.

  It was only when his tongue came out and licked at her, seeking to get inside, that Therese broke the contact.

  She didn't go far, though. She didn't want to.

  God...his eyes were amazing, and they were no longer black. They were shining an extraordinary peridot green, the light coming from them so bright she had to blink.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have done that." The male frowned and shook his head. "I mean, I shouldn't have done that."

  Therese searched his features, getting lost in the uncoiling that was happening in her gut, her body going hyper-aware and strangely sluggish at the same time.

  "Do you have a male?" he asked in a rough voice.

  "No." She focused on his lips. "No, I don't."

  His lids closed and the relief across those features of his was a surprise. "Thank God."

  Therese had to smile. "You are a male of worth, then." Except then she frowned. "Are you with anyone?"

  "No, I'm not--"

  The honk of a horn brought both of their heads around. A Mercedes had pulled up behind them, and the driver was getting out. "Are you okay?" he asked.

  "Just fine," her male said. "Sorry."

  Ummm, okay, not that he was hers.

  "Yup, we're just fine," she echoed. Seeking to prove what felt like a lie, Therese grabbed his arm and helped the male up to his feet. "We're good. Thank you."

  She made a point to escort the male to the passenger side and help him in. Then she strode around, got behind the wheel, and hit the gas, taking a right out of the parking lot because it was easier than cutting through four lanes of traffic.

  "I really should go," he said as he stared out the front windshield.

  "To the doctor, I know. So where are we headed? I can turn us around."

  "Listen, I'll be all right. I always am. Can you please pull over?"

  She glanced across at him, and dear God, he was tense, his hands squeezing his thighs, his jaw clenched. He'd been the instigator of the kiss, but he was clearly regretting it.

  "Please, pull over," he muttered.

  "Okay, sure. But there isn't...I don't see anything."

  The restaurant was located at the beginning of a strip of some twenty or thirty outlet stores, but her choice of "right" had taken them in the opposite direction from all of that: Accordingly, they were entering a stretch of no-shoulders and a lot of trees, nothing but an on-ramp to some kind of highway, and what seemed to be vacant, unfinished land on either side of the street.

  Frowning, she leaned into the wheel. Up ahead, there was something on the horizon, on a rise in the landscape...construction cranes, maybe? Or...she wasn't sure what it was.

  Whatever it was, a parking lot presented itself around the next bend--and talk about an abundance of riches. Pavement opened up on both sides of the road, with enough spaces to accommodate hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of cars. Was it a convention center? She couldn't see any kind of hotel or big facility, though. Just darkness.

  As she hit her directional signal, the male stiffened.

  "Not here," he said hoarsely. "Oh, God...anywhere but here."

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Keep going."

  Hitting the gas again, she passed by what turned out to be--oh, right, an amusement park. Of course. The stuff she had thought were cranes were actually rides like roller coasters and high-elevation spinners, everything currently unlit because it was winter and the enterprise was closed for the season.

  She continued on, going by an ice-cream place named Martha's that was marked with a giant rooster. It, too, was shut down for the off-season, but she could imagine the lines at its dozen windows, kids running around with soft-serve cones melting down their arms, parents relaxing even as they kept one eye on the little guys.

  That summer fantasy was real for some people. Had been real for her, for a while.

  All that was gone now.

  "Here," he said, pointing to the rooster. "Turn in here."

  "A little farther."

  She didn't want the ice-cream place any more than he wanted the amusement park. So maybe they did have something in common. Buzz kills unite.

  The souvenir shop they came up to next had lots of windows and lots of little things lined up in the show of glass, all the snow globes, shot glasses, T-shirts, and beer cozies like soldiers waiting to be called to the front lines of family fun. Its parking lot was the baby brother to the big daddies they'd passed, but empty as it was, there was plenty of room.

  After Therese stopped the BMW, she put the gearshift in neutral and pulled the parking brake--and what do you know, she agreed with the male sitting next to her. Imperatives for his healthcare aside, it was time for them to part ways. In her current mindset, she was a vacuum looking for a distraction, a hollow mess who only looked put together on the outside. She'd come to Caldwell in search of a fresh start, a new definition of herself...an escape from everything that had come before, all the lies and the deceit, the falsity.

  Funny how finding out that you weren't who you'd thought you were could make you move over five hundred miles away from your "family."

  But the good thing about being on your own?

  Unless you lied to yourself, you knew exactly where you stood.

  The bad thing, though? You tended to fill the void you had with other stuff--and she didn't need a shrink to tell her it was a bad idea to get lost in whatever was going on with this male. He was sexy, very off, and too much for her to handle with her defenses all down.

  "Can you dematerialize home?" he asked.

  "Yes, absolutely. I'm still worried about your head, however."

  Even as she spoke, though, she was unclipping the seat belt and popping her door. He did the same, and they both got out.

  The male came around as she did, and they met in front of the car, right in between the headlights--and as they looked at each other, she frowned, some strange feeling coming over her.

  "I'll take care of it," he said. "I feel a lot better."

  As she stared up at his greater height, she blinked...and tried to remember what he was talking about. Oh, right, his head.

  Well, he certainly seemed steady on his feet now, and vampires did heal quickly. There was no slurring of his speech, and those eyes, as they flashed peridot, seemed of equal size now. Besides, he didn't have far to get back to his brother's restaurant. She hadn't gone more than a mile.

  "Are you going to be safe?" he asked. "Going home by yourself, I mean."

  "Yup." She kicked up her chin and forced a smile. "Perfectly safe."

  "I should take you back. Where do you--"

  As she thought of that kiss, she put a hand up. "No, I'd rather go by myself. It's better that way."

  He inclined his head. "Absolutely."

  "So..." She put out her palm. "It was weird to meet you."

  She tempered the words with an honest smile. Twenty-four hours in Caldwell, and she was making males faint, practicing her in
terviewing skills, and driving fancy cars. All things considered? It could be a lot worse.

  "The pleasure was mine," he said remotely.

  She had a feeling he wanted to hug her by the way he left her hand hanging, but she didn't want to go up against that body of his again. She was already in the position of having to forget that kiss. More reasons to have to give herself amnesia was not something she needed.

  "Well, good-bye." She stepped back. "Ah...have a good life."

  On that note, she up and dematerialized. And as she traveled in a scatter, she was amazed at how someone you'd never met before could make such a huge impression on you.

  Crazy.

  Really just nuts.

  TWENTY-TWO

  And yet he didn't kill her.

  Somehow, in spite of Xcor's starvation, Layla felt him release her wrist just as she was beginning to feel the effect of his feeding, her blood pressure starting to dip, her head becoming only the slightest bit dizzy.

  She could tell the withdrawal cost him dearly. His fangs were fully descended, and he was fighting himself, the muscles up both sides of his neck straining against his skin, his arms and legs churning in the melted, sloppy earth beneath his naked body.

  He was also very, totally...completely erect.

  When it had been a life-and-death situation, his nakedness had been easy to overlook. And on that front, they were still far from out of the woods--natch, as V would say. But in this split second of relief, she became vitally aware of exactly how male he was.

  Xcor was phearsom, indeed.

  There was no dwelling on his thick arousal, though. From behind them, lights began to flash, and then there was the sound of a powerful car engine and the crashing of trees. Layla leapt to her feet and put herself between Xcor and whatever it was--

  The Range Rover broke through the forest like a charging bull, stopping just short of plowing her down. And as the driver's side door opened, Layla's heart jumped up into her throat.

  It was just Vishous, however.

  Well, "just" suggested the Brother was a benign presence, and that couldn't be further from the truth. Vishous looked positively furious, his brows down, his black hair all messed up like he'd been running a hand through it, the tattoos at his temple and that goatee making him seem even more sinister.

  "You done?" the Brother demanded.

  He refused to look at her so she spoke up as she nodded. "Yes."

  "I'll get him into the--"

  "No, I'll do it."

  "You're not strong enough--"

  She bent down, forced one arm under the middle of Xcor's back and the other under his thighs, the mud seeping into her sleeves and sticking to her forearms. She paid that no heed, however--just as she ignored the way he struggled against her, garbled protests leaving his mouth whilst she lifted him from the ground.

  "Get the door," she commanded to V.

  After an initial shock, the Brother did the deed, clearing the way for her to bring Xcor over. It was a struggle, her slippers sinking into the snow, the tree branches seeming to grab at Xcor out of spite, the mud dripping down the front of her robe--and she wouldn't have made it if he hadn't lost so much weight.

  The way she looked at it, though, Xcor was hers and hers alone to help.

  Shoving him into the rear seat was an awkward affair, and he aided her by pulling his lower body in and collapsing lengthwise across the back. And she wanted to get in beside him, but even with the wasting, he was still of tremendous length and there was no room for her. She wasn't about to leave him naked, however. Stripping off her robe, she covered him with it, tucking the thing in as best she could before she ran around to the passenger side.

  With only leggings and a loose top on now, the cold got to her quick, and she was shivering as she shut herself in.

  "Buckle up," V muttered. "This is going to be rough."

  No kidding, she thought as she pulled the belt across her chest.

  She expected the Brother to move them forward at a brisk pace. She did not anticipate that he'd floor the accelerator and send them careening through the trees, the headlights hitting trunks and boughs just before they did, the SUV taking strike after strike as it bounced and bashed and heaved its way toward what she hoped was the road.

  But which could well be the edge of the earth.

  Craning around, she checked on Xcor and tried to catch his eye--which was hard because she was going up and down and side to side, although at least Xcor was on the same schedule of movements, his body flopping and slamming about on the rear seat bench. He was doing what he could to anchor himself, one hand gripping the back of her headrest, one foot braced against the door, as everything else made like scrambled eggs in a pan.

  When their stares finally met, the question of Are you okay? was asked on both sides mutely...and answered with a mutual I have no idea.

  The end of the tooth-rattling trip came as quickly as the start of it all, the Range Rover bursting out of the tree line like it was throwing off a too-heavy cloak, its tires skidding on pavement, the great lurch to right itself in the correct lane the last of them, she hoped.

  And for truth, as they made off at even greater speed, things were much quieter, more civilized.

  Which only underscored how hard everyone was breathing.

  Twisting around again, she tried to see out the back, but with the darkened windows, there wasn't much to go on. She could only imagine the debris they'd dragged into the road in their wake--and meanwhile, Xcor was collapsed into the seats, his body lax, his respiration ragged.

  But he was alive and he gave her the thumbs-up sign.

  As she refocused on the way ahead, all she got was a whole lot of pavement, a white line on either side, and a double yellow in the middle. Oh, wait...there was a leaping deer sign, the unnuanced black form of the animal and its antlers set in a reflective diamond the color of a dandelion head.

  No words were spoken.

  None were necessary.

  At first, she didn't know where they were going--and she wasn't about to ask. But then V made a series of turns that took them back to town. Probably to that ranch once again.

  She was right.

  About twenty minutes later, he pulled them into the safe house's garage and they all waited in place as the panels trundled back down.

  Vishous got out first, and Layla wasn't but a split second behind so she could tend to Xcor. Opening the door by his head, she took his arm and helped as he fought to shuffle himself around and keep the muddy robe in place over his nakedness. When he was on his feet, she snagged the long sleeves, tied them together around his waist, and twisted the white fall so that only his hip and the side of his thigh and lower leg were visible.

  "Lean on me," she demanded as she hitched herself up under him and put her hand around his middle.

  Vishous had gone into the house already, but he'd left the door open for them, the kick stop in place on the tile floor.

  "I'm taking you downstairs," she said. "There are two bedroom suites and a sitting area there."

  Xcor leaned on her pretty heavily, especially as they went up the three shallow steps into the house. And as she considered the logistics, she had no idea how they were going to make the descent into the cellar.

  "Where are we?" he asked roughly.

  "It's a safe house."

  "Of the Brotherhood's?"

  "Yes."

  Vishous was in the kitchen, lounging against the counter and lighting up a hand-rolled, and he didn't spare them a glance as they went by him. He had, however, once again paved the way for them, the door they needed to get through open wide, the light on so they could make their way safely underground.

  Boy, that stairwell was skinny.

  Xcor solved the tight-squeeze problem, however, by breaking away from her and relying on the railing. When he got to the bottom, he beelined for the stuffed sofa that was opposite the wide-screen TV. As he collapsed on it, she wasn't sure what let out a bigger exhale, him or t
he cushions.

  There was a red and black blanket folded over the back of the matching armchair and she snagged it, removing the dirty robe from his lower body and replacing it with something cleaner.

  She took a moment to breathe. And then it was back into action. "I'll bring you some food."

  When he didn't argue with her, just sank further into the couch, she wondered if the trip into town hadn't done what Mother Nature had failed, and what V had declined, to do. But no...he was still breathing.

  Layla took the stairs quickly, and as she came up into the kitchen, she shut the door quietly. There were things that she and Vishous needed to say to each other--and yet he didn't seem to want to talk at all. He was utterly self-contained as he stared at the lit end of his hand-rolled, his brows down low, his expression so flat it was as if he were a cartoon representation of himself.

  She went over and put her hand on his arm. "Vishous, thank--"

  "Don't touch me!" He jerked away from her. "Do not fucking touch me."

  His eyes glowed with anger as he jabbed his cigarette at her. "Don't get this shit twisted. We are not 'in' this together. We are not cohorts in Xcor. I'm not buying this romantic fantasy you're rocking. What I am doing is leaving you here with a murderer and an open landline. If you're alive to take the phone call about your fucking kids later, hey, you win the lottery. If he decides to slaughter you and then call his friends to come over and party with your corpse? Sorry, not sorry. Either way, I don't give a fuck. You want him? Now you got him."

  V stalked his way to the table and picked up the cell phone he'd left behind.

  Then he was gone, heading out through the slider and disappearing into the night.

  After a moment, Layla walked across and shifted the lock into place. Then she turned back around and started rifling through the cabinets, looking for cans of soup.

  --

  The first thing Trez did when he got back to the restaurant was go into iAm's office and hit the mess on the desk. He didn't have to work very hard to find what he was looking for. The female's resume was right on the top, and he checked out the header.

  Did he dare?

  That question was answered as he returned the piece of paper to the pile of bills and orders, and snuck out of the back part of Sal's like a criminal. Dematerializing, he proceeded to a not-so-hot section of town, to a rooming house that made him want to scream. The damn thing was three stories high, a block long, and had at least half a dozen windows that were boarded up. Its paint job had been fresh white back in the 1970s, but had faded to piss yellow, and the couple coming out of its metal double doors looked like they could have been homeless with their dirty clothes and filthy hair.