“You are right. But I think she has been led astray by Aspen. I sense—no, I believe she is special. And if given the chance, she can do good things for this world.”
“Okay. I like choo, Vanderhorrssthst. I will give you my word—”
“Thank you.” I sigh with relief.
“Choo did not allow me to finish!” He holds up a pale finger. “I will give choo one year to determine if she is truly special.”
I feel my stomach knot, the dread pooling in my feet.
He continues, “One year to submit your petition and turn her. If you do not,” he flicks his wrist, “we will put her down.”
What the… “No. I think you misunderstood. She doesn’t know who we are, and technically, she hasn’t broken any rules, so—”
“Yes or no, Vanderhorsssthst?” He glares. “And sink very carefully about your answer because I have cliffhanger on zi brain and I am not happy.”
Sonofabitch. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”
“Very good. Now let us go and get zi men. We have two naughty, naughty vampires to kill.”
The good news is that if by some chance Miriam has figured out who and what we are, she will not be executed. The bad news is I have exactly one year to turn her or see her die.
As feared, the night has most definitely gotten worse. I can only pray that nothing will go awry.
“Let’s go get my librarian.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Are you out of your mind?” Lula says as the men and I prepare the necessary gear to go after Aspen, Jeremy, and Miriam, from Kline’s house.
“I am so pleased you are feeling like your usual, hypercritical self,” I say, handing her a bottle of orange Gatorade.
Yes, it comes in quite handy when one has been severely depleted of electrolytes—vampire or otherwise.
She takes the bottle, chugs it, and hands the empty container back. “Then I’m coming with you.”
“Absolutely not, and there is no time for squabbling.”
“Good point. So I’m coming.” She starts to rise from the bed only to be jerked back by the one shackle still remaining.
“Oops,” I say. “Looks like you’re stuck.”
“Oh my God! Michael Vanderhorst, you free me this moment, or I swear I will never, ever—”
“Whine, complain, criticize, or bust my balls again? Deal.”
Her brown eyes narrow. “Do not do this. Please,” she begs.
“Lula, I almost lost you tonight and you are weakened. So if you believe for a moment that I will allow you to come with me, you are sorely mistaken.”
“But who will have your back?” She leans in and whispers, “These guys are all council dogs. They won’t put you first—not above serving their ridiculous notion of justice.”
“Hey, I heard that, woman,” growls Alexander from the corner of the room, where he stands over her like a protective guard dog, proving her point.
She rolls her eyes. “You excluded, mutt.”
He narrows his eyes, and she reaches out to dig her fingernails into my arm. “Michael, I am begging you.”
“No.”
“Then say goodbye to me right here, right now.”
“You’re being dramatic, Lula. I am simply going to free an innocent human and capture the men who did this to you. You. Why must you turn this into more than it is when the truth is you will be a hindrance?”
She looks down at her lap, her cheeks rosy, her lips pink. “I don’t know.” She shrugs.
I reach for her hand and squeeze gently. “Tell me.”
“I dunno. I just don’t want anything to happen. You’re all I have left now.”
“I understand your worry, Lula. But the council’s fine, fine soldiers,” I say loudly for Alexander’s sake, “are doing all of the work. I will merely be there for support.” I reach up and brush her cheek. “Do not worry, my sweet Lula. All will be well.”
She covers my hand with hers and nods. “I hope so, Michael. Because if you die trying to save her and she lives, I’ll kill her.”
I drop my hand. “Please tell me you do not mean that.”
“Come back alive. Then she won’t have to find out.”
The plan is simple. The council’s men will go in first, and I will watch from afar, only allowed to enter after the situation inside has been contained—i.e., Aspen and Jeremy are dead.
As for Miriam, everyone is clear that regardless of her relationship with the two vampires, she is to be left unharmed. The only exception being if it’s a matter of vampire life or death.
Let us hope it will not come to that.
Alexander has stayed behind with Lula as a favor to me. And given her foul mood when I left, I am fairly sure she plans to take advantage of him in the most illicit of ways. Nice is now on the council’s private plane at the Mesa airport, binging on vampire romances, and no one but myself finds that the least bit disturbing.
Lying on my stomach in the dirt, downwind from the hacienda I saw in my vision and in Miriam’s photo, I listen in on the walkie-talkie, waiting to hear the go.
Right now the men are silently spreading out around the perimeter of the property, which is situated on miles of wide-open desert under a crisp dark sky. The stars are just as I saw in my vision, billions of magnificent twinkling points of light. It is truly beautiful out here, and I bet it’s one of Miriam’s favorite places to read. So peaceful.
The word go quietly blurts out over the walkie-talkie, and I hear the team rush the house like a deadly breeze. I hold my breath, focusing all of my attention on my ears.
The moments click by. Then I hear the front door crash open and the sound of the guards pressing inside.
I expect a tussle to come next, but there is only unnerving silence.
“Vanderhorst,” a deep voice comes over the radio, “you need to come in here.”
Oh God. No. Aspen and Jeremy killed Miriam and vanished.
My heart starts pounding, and my face heats from the rapid movement of oxygen through my body. I bolt inside the house to the first room—a wide-open space with high ceilings, Saltillo floors, and a kiva fireplace.
I am expecting to see Miriam’s body drained of all life on the floor.
“What the…?” Instead, I see two piles of dust sprinkled over two sets of men’s clothes. The outfits are exactly what I saw Aspen and Jeremy wearing earlier. Black slacks, black jackets, and white shirts. One tie is green, the other blood red.
“What happened?” I say.
“Ask her.” The man from earlier—Martin—points to an unconscious lump wearing a blue dress in the corner of the room.
“Miriam?” I rush to her side and carefully inspect her. There is a deep cut across her temple, but the blood loss is minimal and her breathing is steady. I can hear a steady heartbeat, too.
I bow my head, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Thank you,” I mutter, unsure who I am speaking to. All I know is that she is alive.
“You think they’re really dead?” Martin asks, looking at the two dusty suits.
It takes a moment to understand what he’s getting at. But I’m no stranger to vampire ways. Sometimes we die. Sometimes we merely make it look so.
“I do not know,” I say.
“If they’re really dead, how do you think it happened?” one soldier asks.
I look at Miriam’s frail, mortal body. In a million years, she would not be powerful enough to take down two vicious vampires. “I have no clue.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Three hours later, I am exactly where this journey began, sitting at Miriam’s bedside. She is unconscious, her brain is swelling, and the X-rays have revealed her skull is fractured. It is three in the morning, and Nurse Soft Lips is on duty. Luckily, Lula arrived within five minutes of me, so there have been no attempts to elicit smooches in exchange for visiting privileges.
“What are you going to do this time, Michael?” Lula asks, leaning against the wall behind me.
I take Miriam’
s warm hand and hold it, praying for an answer. “I do not know.”
“I don’t think Jeremy or Aspen gave her any V8 recently. She would be healing by now if they had. And your,” she leans in to whisper, “blood’s worn off by now. If she dies, this all ends. You’ll be free.”
I turn and look at Lula. “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean?”
I shrug defensively.
She frowns. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me you don’t know.”
“Stop, Lula. Clearly I don’t know, and it serves no one for you to act like a petulant child.”
She steps forward, folding her arms over her chest. “The blood you gave her only lasts a day—two tops.”
I blink. “Sorry?” I don’t think I’m hearing her right.
“Freaking Clive. Don’t tell me he never explained this.”
Apparently, Clive left out a lot of things. And since vampires are not the most communicative, and I am apparently the equivalent of Vlad the Impaler—and have been since profession #2 in the 1600s—no one has stepped up to give me the vampire birds and bees talk. Also, like I said, I never had an interest, so I never asked. I’ve simply made lots of assumptions.
“Lula?” I snarl, urging her to continue.
“The only blood bond that truly lasts is between a maker and progeny. Giving a human your blood heals them and creates a temporary connection—but that’s it.”
“That cannot be,” I argue. “I felt it. I felt a connection between us tonight.”
I see the heartbreak in Lula’s eyes. “Well, if you did, it wasn’t because of your blood.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Fine. Ask Nice-osaurus or one of the other crusty old vampires you know. But I’m telling the truth. I mean, think about it. If she were bonded to you for life, it would mean your blood is in her when she dies, which means she’d turn. The same would be true for every human who’s ever had a sip of V8 for medicinal purposes. How many humans die of old age and then turn?”
I think about what she is saying, and she’s right. Not a lot of elderly-looking vampires running around.
How can I not know all this?
I suddenly realize it’s a testament to the way I’ve lived my life, seeking skills, but not knowledge about my kind because I have never truly embraced my world or even what I am. I pushed it all away, claiming to be a lone wolf. I blamed my need for control or told myself it was to keep Clive’s secret.
The truth is, I have never let anyone in because I never stopped loathing myself and accepted what I am. The truth is, I feel the loss of what I once was every single goddamned day, and for the first time ever, I find myself wanting to move on.
I give Lula a look and then turn away, facing my quirky little librarian. “Perhaps she was brought into my life for a reason.”
“Michael,” Lula hisses, “don’t be silly.”
“I am not.” From the moment I met her, I felt drawn. Not lust or love, but drawn. As if our lives together might mean something.
Lula steps to my side and scowls down at me. “If you heal her, if you continue this absurd relationship, then you do it alone.”
“What are you saying, Lula?”
“I’m going back to Cincinnati, my home. Our home. Where we are respected and comfortable. Where we look after our society and we are appreciated.”
I whoosh out a breath and run my hands through my hair. I cannot bear to part with Lula, but this is different. She is threatening to part with me. “You must do whatever makes you happy,” I say.
“Michael, no.” I hear her voice crack.
I look away. “You can stay. Here. With me. It is your choice, but I am not ready to go home.”
A long moment of silence passes, and when I look over my shoulder, the room behind me is empty.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wincing from the pain. I know that vampires do not like to share, but Lula would never have to share her place in my heart because I am beginning to see it has an endless capacity to love. Even when we haven’t wished it or acknowledged its presence, the heart does what it wants, and mine has expanded.
I lower my face into my palms and begin to cry for the first time in three hundred and eighty-one years. Not only do I need to mourn Clive, but I realize I’ve never mourned my own death.
I miss you, Clive. And thank you for saving me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The next morning, my cell phone wakes me. I jolt upright, realizing I fell asleep in the chair next to Miriam. I jerk to my feet, not wanting to wake her, even though she will be fine and waking soon.
Yes, I gave her my blood, and I can only hope that the days ahead, with a renewed bond and Jeremy gone, will provide me further insights, including who she really is or why she was brought into my life. Also, if bonds only last a day, why did she not feel our connection before? Jeremy had not been around to give her his blood or influence her in any way. Then there’s the question surrounding what happened at the hacienda.
Miriam is a mystery as much as a blessing, and I am grateful for whatever forces have brought her into my life.
My phone rings again, and I hold my phone to my ear, stepping out into the hallway. “Yes?”
“Vanderhorsssthst!”
I wince. “Nice, sir. How may I serve you?”
“I am told you plan to stay in Phoenix.”
“Yes, sir. For the time being.”
“And your territory in Cincinnati?” he asks with a critical tone.
I breathe deeply. “I know that I am now the elder, bu—”
“Good. Diss is good. Glad choo are willing to honor our ways, given they are ancient traditions.”
“Yes, bu—”
“And you know,” he adds, “that fabulous vampire novel wasn’t written in a day.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m uncertain what he means, but I know I won’t like what’s coming.
“Rome. Rome, too,” Nice adds.
I nod slowly, feeling a sickness creep up my throat. Where the devil is he going with this?
“And…?” I say.
“And change happeths slowly. This new order is only three hundred years old—a speet in the booket.”
“Speet?” I ask.
“Yes, speet. You use the speet in your mouth and you speet in the booket!”
“Oh. You mean spit in the bucket.”
“Yes! Diss is what I said. And you cannot leave your post, Vanderhorsssthst.”
I blow out a breath, placing one hand on my waist. This is what I feared. It is what Clive warned me about. “Enjoy your youth, Michael. Enjoy your freedom. Because sooner or later, your destiny will choose you.”
Nice continues, “But choo know, Michael, Clive was a very good friend. I lobed him like a brudder. And I know he would have been very proud of you for doing this. Unity was always his dream.”
“I am not following,” I say.
“The council has met, and for di sake of stability, you must succeed Clive as leader of Cincinnati. But, also, choo must remain in Phoenix.”
I think Nice needs a nice vacation.
“Errrr, my most sincere apologies, Nice, but I still do not understand.”
“Congratulations! Choo are the first in our history to lead two territories.”
Oh no. “That is such an…” I gulp, “honor.” It is horrible. Exactly the wrong direction I wish to go. I’ve finally reached a point in my existence where I am ready to begin facing my past and who I truly am. I am in mourning and need time to heal. I want to be the leader of nothing.
“We are on di phone, so I weel not say too much,” Nice explains, “but a courier will arrive shortly with instructions for a special project. There is much work to do in diss despicable desert of yours. You will make it happen. Be to the office in twenty minutes to get your package.”
“Uhh…but—”
“I must go now. I am told di soldiers have located diss Mimi Jean person.”
“Mimi who
?”
“Di writer, stupid. Di writer! I weel force her to make more Fanged Loves. Goodbye.”
The call ends, and I can hardly breathe. I’m the leader of two societies now? If those weren’t enough, there is some “special project” I have to work too.
“Well, hello there, Michael. I’m off in an hour. You interested?” Nurse Soft Lips smiles, but I can’t muster anything besides a frown.
“Can you tell Miss Murphy I had to leave—an urgent matter?”
I hand her a hundred-dollar bill. “Please, as a favor to me, would you mind making sure she gets home?”
I turn and head for the stairs.
When I arrive to the office of the Arizona Society of Sunshine Love—Gah! Must change name immediately—I am expecting the usual changeover support crew, appointed by the council. What I am not expecting is to see Viviana holding open the door.
“Mr. Vanderhorst!” She runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck, cutting off my circulation.
“Errrr…Viviana, I cannot breathe.”
“Oh, sorry, sir.” She drops her viselike grip and beams up at me with big, joyful tears. “It’s just…” She hugs me again so tightly, I’m fairly sure I hear a rib crack.
I pry her off. “Okay. Okay. Let the big vampire go now.”
She sighs. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“What did I do?”
“Mr. Aspen was a monster. I never wanted anyone to get hurt—especially Mr. Bakker.”
“All right.” I gesture for us to step inside, where it’s more private. I follow her in and secure the door.
Viviana jumps me once more with her womanly tentacles.
“Vivi-ana! Enough hugs, woman.”
She releases me and takes my hand, kissing it with enthusiasm. “Muah, muah, muah, muah!”
I snap it away. “What has gotten into you?” Perhaps the council did something to her during the interrogation—gave her some crazy pills. I can also see the entire office has been cleared out save the horrible furniture. No filing cabinets or computer. The council took everything, I’m sure.
“He made us all serve him, Mr. Vanderhorst,” Viviana says. “And he made me do horrible things, like lure innocent people here every day for his fancy rich friends’ lunches.”