Much Ado About Vampires: A Dark Ones Novel

  His gaze searched my face for signs I was mocking him. I let him feel the strength of my conviction. “No, I didn’t, but that didn’t stop them from condemning me for acts I didn’t commit.”

  “Why didn’t you defend yourself?”

  His lips twisted in a self-mocking smile. “Because I did betray my friend.”

  “And seduced his Beloved?”

  He rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip, his eyes on my mouth. “That was before I knew she was his Beloved, actually. Once she made it clear her choice was him, not me, I left her alone. Other than trying to have them killed, but even that plan had lost its charm.”

  “So you’re martyring yourself because you were a bad friend?”

  His gaze flitted away again, his hand dropping. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but ultimately, I was responsible for trying to ruin Kris’s life, and it’s only right I should pay for that.”

  “Bullshit,” I told him, causing his eyes to widen. “You’re having a good old-fashioned wallow in self-pity is all. I don’t say that you don’t have it coming to you, because I think you’ve done some things that you shouldn’t have done, but it seems to me that you’ve paid more than the price of your penance, and it’s time to move on. And that’s just what I intend to happen. We’re going to get out of here, all three of us, and no, I’m not going to leave you behind—”

  The words were ripped from my mouth as if a giant hand had snatched me aside, and flung me down somewhere else entirely.

  Which is basically what happened. I was aware of a momentary dropping sensation, and landed on my hands and knees on a wooden floor. I stared for a moment down at the grain of the wood, my brain stunned into a complete lack of cognizant thought, before I looked up to see a man and a woman standing before me.

  We were in a room that looked like a library of some sort, all deep leather armchairs, and pretty bound books in floor-to-ceiling bookcases. I glanced at the people watching me.

  The man was of middle height, with black hair and a goatee. The woman, who edged away from him, had a sunny face, curly red hair, and a friendly demeanor that made me address her rather than her companion. “What on earth just happened?”

  “I summoned you,” the woman said. She had an English accent, and a nice smile as she gestured toward the man, who stood with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed on me. “You have Mr. de Marco to thank for that, though, since he hired me. I’m a Guardian, you see. My name is Noelle. Do you know that you’re glowing ?”

  “So I’ve been told. Why . . . wait, de Marco? You’re—” A shadow moved behind the man, coming forward and resolving itself. “Ulfur!”

  “I am Alphonse de Marco, and you will give to me the Occio di Lucifer,” Ulfur’s boss said in a no-nonsense tone of voice that really just irritated me more than frightened me.

  “The . . . oh. That.” I wondered how he’d feel if he knew the Tool was broken, and that I was the designated hitter. I glanced at Ulfur, but his expression gave nothing away.

  Ulfur hadn’t told his boss what happened, I realized with a secret smile. Bless his heart, he used the fact that I had the Occio to convince his boss to pull me out of the Akasha.

  Leaving Alec and Diamond behind.

  “Do you have it? ” de Marco asked, his expression darkening into anger.

  “Yes.” Hastily I assembled a plan that I hoped would rescue both Alec and Diamond. “I do.”

  “I have summoned you out of the Akasha. In gratitude, you will give it to me,” he ordered, his bossy tone really starting to get under my skin.

  I looked at the imperative hand he held out before me. “Well, you know, the Occio is a really big deal. It’s one-third of the Tools of Dale.”

  “Bael,” Noelle the Guardian corrected.

  “Bael, sorry.” De Marco’s eyes narrowed on me suspiciously. I cleared my throat and said with what I hoped was convincing insouciance, “I call him Dale. It’s a little thing we do.”

  Ulfur rubbed his hand over his eyes, but said nothing.

  “But that’s neither here nor there, and what is here is . . . well, actually, he’s there, not here. If you know what I mean. Do you know what I mean?”

  “No,” de Marco growled.

  “Oh. Well, it’s Alec.”

  “Alec? Who is Alec?” De Marco was clearly getting angrier with each passing second.

  Ulfur’s eyes widened as he glanced between his boss and me. I had the feeling he was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t know what it was.

  “He’s a friend,” I said carefully, trying to suss what had Ulfur so agitated.

  “I don’t care about your friends. I just want the Occio, and I want it now. Hand over the payment for your removal from the Akasha, or I will have you returned there immediately.”

  “Hang on there, buster,” I said, deciding that the best way to deal with people like him was to bluff my way through his demands. “I will make a deal with you—you spring my two friends from the Akasha, and I’ll give you the Occio.”

  Ulfur’s eyes just about bugged out of his head.

  “You dare—” De Marco sucked in a huge amount of air just like he was inflatable or something. “You dare to defy me? Do you know who I am, mortal?”

  “Yeah, you’re Ulfur’s boss, the guy who told him to steal the Tools from the frickin’ king of hell!”

  “Prince, not king,” Noelle said, then looked away quickly, pretending interest in a picture on the wall.

  “Dale likes me to call him king in our private moments,” I lied, trying to look like someone who dated Satan. “So here’s the thing, de Marco: You want Dale’s Occio, you can have it . . . just as soon as you get Alec and Diamond out of the Akasha.”

  “I am not an Akashic removal service!” de Marco snarled, his black eyebrows pulled down to form a unibrow. I was tempted to tell him it wasn’t a good look for him, but felt he wouldn’t be receptive to such criticism. “You owe me, mortal, not the other way around. You will hand over the Occio now.”

  “Or what?” I said, buffing a fingernail on my jeans.

  “Or I’ll make you sorry you ever drew breath,” he snarled.

  “Hello? Who has the eyeball of Dale? That’s right, I do, and that means you can’t hurt me.” I fervently prayed that was true.

  Ulfur weaved a little, like he might pass out. Noelle looked startled.

  Maybe it wasn’t true.

  De Marco seemed to swell again, then let out a scream of sheer frustration. “One.”

  “Huh?” I stopped edging toward Noelle, who was in turn sliding covertly away from de Marco.

  “One.” His nostrils flared. “I will have the Guardian summon one more person, but that is it.”

  “But . . . I have two friends there.”

  “Then you will choose between them. Now!”

  I swallowed back a little zing of fear at the look in his eyes. He didn’t strike me as being too mentally stable. “Um . . .” I thought frantically. Diamond, I should tell him to get Diamond out. She was my friend . . . of a sort . . . and she didn’t do anything to deserve being banished to the Akasha. I would get Diamond out.

  Leaving Alec behind.

  Alone.

  With no one to feed him.

  And worse, he would know I hadn’t cared enough about him to rescue him, too.

  But he was a murdering vampire and, by his own admission, had betrayed his friend. He had accepted the punishment meted out to him. He was resigned to being in the Akasha.

  “All right,” I said, sending a little prayer that Alec would understand why I had no choice but to pick Diamond. “I’ve decided.”

  “Give the name to the Guardian, and let us be through with this!” de Marco snapped.

  “Noelle, would you please summon . . . ?” I looked at her. She looked at me, waiting. I thought of Diamond. My inner devil wept and called me all sorts of names.

  No one had ever tended Alec’s wounds.

  “Summon Alec Darwin, please,” I hea
rd someone say, and to my astonishment—and inner devil’s joy—it was my mouth that spoke the words.

  Chapter Seven

  Alec stared at the spot where, seconds before, Corazon had stood. He narrowed his eyes. He put out a hand to touch nothing but empty air.

  She wasn’t there. Just like that, she was gone.

  Someone must have summoned her.

  “Good riddance,” he said defiantly, not wishing to admit to the hurt that spiked through him as sharp as a dagger. It was annoyance, not pain, he told himself. She was simply someone put there to torment him, and he’d be damned if he gave her the power to hurt him.

  She had left him, just left him, without so much as a backward glance, or one last jab at his appearance. She hadn’t even called him a murdering bloodsucker before she left, dammit, and he was beginning to be fond of the way she caressed the words in her mind.

  “Very well,” he said aloud to no one, gritting his teeth and looking around for a new spot in which he could almost die. “So be it. She’s gone. I’m here. That’s all there is to it.”

  But it wasn’t all there was to it. Cora was out in the mortal world with no one to protect her, no one to keep her safe from anyone who might want to use her.

  “I don’t care,” he told the nearest rock, stomping off to find a new resting spot. “She’s not my problem anymore. I don’t mind at all never seeing her again, never smelling her, never watching those hips that know how to make me hard with just a little twitch, never letting her suck my tongue almost out of my head, never making her hum with ecstasy. I don’t need her or her blood. I’m quite happy being miserable here on my own.”

  He kicked a rock, defying it to dispute his words, knowing he was a fool, but in too much pain to care.

  She had left him.

  He spotted a rock that he felt would suit as a spot where he could perch and be even more miserable than he already was by admitting that her defection had, in fact, hurt him as deeply as anything could, but just as he was approaching it, the world shifted, gathered itself up, and punched him in the gut.

  “Alec!”

  He was groggily aware of a voice that seemed to sing in his veins, a scent that wrapped itself around him, gentle hands that turned him over and touched his face.

  “Sorry,” another female voice said. “I told you it was harder to summon beings of a dark nature. I don’t think I could have done it if you hadn’t been here to provide a connection to him.”

  “Are you all right? Alec?”

  He opened his eyes to find Cora’s exotic, mysterious eyes filled with concern as they peered at him. “You didn’t leave me?”

  “No,” she said, a smile curling those delicious lips.

  He couldn’t stop himself. He slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her down to him, his heart singing with the pleasure of tasting her again, of plunging into her sweetness, of feeling her respond to him with a little shiver of excitement.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here? A Dark One. How very interesting.”

  A man’s voice interrupted his pleasant contemplation of just how quickly he could get Cora into bed so he could make her hum like she’d never hummed before.

  “You did not tell me you were a Beloved, woman,” the man continued.

  There was something about his voice that had Alec leaping to his feet, a startled—and breathless, he was smugly pleased to note—Cora shoved behind him.

  Two men stood watching him—one he recognized as being the lich who had ties to his friends Kristoff and Pia, but the other . . . “Who are you?”

  “I am de Marco. You are known to me,” the man answered, his eyes narrowed as he raked Alec over with a look that had him instantly annoyed. “I make it my business to know Dark Ones who cross my path, and you are friends with that irritating reaper, are you not?”

  Do you know him? Cora asked.

  No. But he seems to know me.

  I don’t think that’s a good thing, Alec.

  I suspect you’re right.

  “Yes, this is going to work out well,” de Marco said with a fat smile. “Ulfur, take the Dark One to our guest rooms. You, Beloved, you will now give me the Occio.”

  Alec? Cora asked, pressing against his back.

  Yes, we run. Right now.

  She didn’t want to debate the subject; she just turned on her heels and ran for the door. Alec anticipated the shouted order that the man de Marco gave, and, with a look of apology, slammed his fist into Ulfur’s face as the latter attempted to stop them. He grabbed the hand of the other woman who stood there, hauling her after him with the assumption that she was not a part of what was going on.

  “Who are you?” he asked as he shoved her through the door, slamming it shut on de Marco’s face.

  “Noelle. I’m a Guardian. Is Cora really your Beloved ? I’m a Beloved, too, although the Dark One who I was supposed to save found someone else, and—”

  Cora stood down the end of a hallway in an open door, sunlight spilling in around her as she yelled at him to come that way. He didn’t hesitate, just shoved the chatty Guardian toward her, spinning around when de Marco burst into the hallway behind them, a gun in his hand.

  “Run!” he shouted to the women, hefting a small half-moon table to hurl at de Marco.

  “He’s got a gun, Alec!” Cora yelled back, and he knew even without looking that she was coming back to save him.

  Dammit, woman, I am the man! I will do the saving! You will run when I tell you to run!

  You can stuff that macho crap where the sun don’t shine. Besides, he’s got a gun! He’ll shoot you!

  He can’t hurt me. You, however, are still mortal.

  Cora flung herself on him just as de Marco opened fire, sending them both to the floor. He twisted as they fell, rolling over on top of her to protect her, pulling her head down so it was tucked against the wall of his chest.

  You fool! he growled into her mind. You’ll get yourself killed that way.

  Use me!

  What?

  Use me! Tool me! Like you did with the demon.

  “There’s always a price to pay when you use Bael’s power,” he warned, but did as she suggested, holding her tight. He felt her shudder; then power began to flow from her to him, which he channeled and threw in a mass toward the man just as the first couple of bullets hit his back.

  Cora jerked, and he knew one of the bullets had gone through him to her. He ripped savagely at the power, slamming it into de Marco, sending the man flying backward into the wall, where he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  “How badly are you hurt?” he asked as he rolled off Cora, his gaze pouncing on the bloom of red along her upper leg.

  “I don’t think badly. Holy moly, we did that?” She stared at the crumpled heap that was Alphonse de Marco, horror skittering around her mind. “Is he . . .”

  “Dead? I doubt it. He is not mortal. Let me see your leg.” He tore at the bullet hole in her jeans, ripping it wide open to examine the wound.

  “Thank you, that was my favorite pair of jeans!” She slapped at his hands as he found an exit hole on the underside of her thigh, the bullet buried in the floor beneath her.

  “I’ll buy you another. Dammit, it’s bleeding heavily.” With no other choice, he bent over her leg, hearing her gasp as he swirled his tongue around the upper wound, fighting the need to suck the blood from the wound.

  You’re feeding? Right now? Is this what they call bloodlust?

  No, this is what they call stanching the flow of blood. Reluctantly, he gave one last lick to the wound before pulling her leg up and repeating it on the exit wound.

  You can do that?

  I’m a Dark One, love. If we weren’t able to clot blood , our donors could bleed to death.

  Oh. Well, thank you . I’m sorry I accused you of wanting to eat.

  I do want to eat, but now is not the time or place. Put your arms around me.

  I beg your pardon!

  “I don’t want you
walking on that leg until you’ve seen a doctor. Put your arms around me. You there, Guardian, see if de Marco is harmed.”

  He got to his feet again, Cora in his arms, striding toward the open door at the end of the hall.

  “Your back! You got shot, too! Put me down, Alec. I can walk.”

  My back is fine. The wounds are already healing over. Remember the attack by the demon? I heal very fast.

  “Yeah, but bullets!”

  “I’m fine.”

  Ulfur emerged from the room behind them, watching silently as Noelle squatted next to de Marco.

  “He’s out, but not hurt badly,” she said, hurrying after them.

  Alec stopped at the door, looking back at Ulfur. “Can you come with us?”

  Ulfur shook his head, gesturing toward the fallen man.

  “Has he bound you not to speak?”

  Ulfur nodded, his expression one with which Alec had more than a passing familiarity—utter despair.

  “I’ll tell Kris and Pia where you are. They’ll help.”

  Ulfur smiled, but it was a sad smile. Cora waved and he lifted his hand in response, watching with black eyes as they left the building.

  “Have you a car?” he asked, hissing in pain as the sunlight caught him full in the face. He glanced around quickly, but the sun was full on the house, giving no shade.

  “Oh man, you’re turning red,” Cora said, glancing toward the sky. “The thing about the sun is true?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “I’ll get my car,” Noelle said, running down a long flagstone walkway toward steps leading down to a parking area. Scrubby desert plants and a few small cacti lined the path, the air around them hot, and filled with the dusty scent of warm, dry earth. A small gecko dashed out from the shade of a rock in front of him as he started down the path toward the driveway.

  “Put me down, and go around the side of the house,” Cora ordered. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his hands and face, ignoring her demand.

  “Alec, stop! You’re getting blisters!”

  “I’ll survive. I don’t need you opening up those wounds again.”