Accidentally Married To...A Vampire? (21 page)

Heading southwest, eyes fixed to the rain sleeked road, he leaned to his right and grabbed another Snickers from the glove box. Just two more days, and they’d be there. He’d send a message to Niccolo, and Reyna would finally be his. Perhaps after three hundred years, he’d finally see an emotion touch her eyes. Terror. Yes, even the cold-hearted queen would feel
that
when he took her head.

***

Helena sensed the faint hum of an engine as her mind slipped out of a deep sleep. If it weren’t for the discomfort of a seat belt digging into the top of her head, she might have slept another day. She wiggled her toes and lethargically sat up.

“Good morning, Helena,” Andrus said in a groggy, deep voice. “Or, should I say afternoon?”

“What’s good about it? I feel like the world just sat on my head and kicked me in the stomach.”

Andrus did not respond.

“Hey, are you okay.” She leaned between the driver and passenger seats to look at him. His eyes were glued to the road, but his lids were at half-mast.

“I am…tired.”

Helena noticed the pile of candy bar wrappers on the floor of the passenger side. “I hope Demilords have a good health plan.”

“I only wish I could get sick, then maybe I’d die.”

“Jeez. Morbid enough?”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m tired. That's all.” His eyelids notched down another fraction of an inch.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Two weeks ago.”

Lord love a duck! Even Niccolo slept daily, and he was tough as nails. “Pull over, let me drive.”

Andrus shot daggers with one glance. “No.”

“Oh, I get it. Only big strong men know how to drive a Hummer?”

“What car do you drive, California girl? Wait. Let me guess. A convertible VW or a Prius.”

Ha, was he going to feel stupid! She was one of the lucky ones who commuted less than five miles each way to school. So when Ann’s brother wanted to sell his truck for the bargain price of two Gs, she pounced.

“A 1974 Bronco.”

Andrus’ head swiveled. “Windsor V8?”

“What else?” Helena loved that frigging gas-guzzler. The hard top was a bear to put on in the winter, but in the summer, that truck was a little slice of heaven. She felt strong and free riding that beast down the highway along the coast.

“Fine.” Andrus pulled off at the next exit into the gas station.

***

As soon as Helena topped off the tank and hit the freeway, Andrus was sawing logs in the backseat. For her, the seat had been spacious, but for a man his size, he looked like a bear crammed in a shoebox. As soon as she found a good spot, she’d pull over and rent a room so he could stretch out. In all honesty, she could use a hot shower and bed herself. Helena flicked on the radio and picked an oldies station. The Beach Boys came on, and it suddenly reminded her of the night Niccolo saved her.

She changed the station. She didn’t want to think about him; she wanted to think about going back to her old life with her mom and friends.

But they’re moving on with their lives. Shouldn’t you?

She’d spoken to Jess and Ann just last week. They’d already moved away to start their careers. Her other friends had gone off to get their doctorates. What was she really going back to? Just a place with lots of memories of surfing at sunset and running on the beach.

What about your mom? She’s still there.

But even her mom had her own life now that Helena was grown. Helena hadn’t really left anything behind in Santa Cruz.

Well, there’s your career. You had to give that up.

Actually, Niccolo never said she’d have to give it up, only that she wouldn’t have to worry about money.

So that just left the question of what was behind door number three? What would her world be like if she had to live as a vampire? She knew it was a must if she wanted Niccolo; otherwise their relationship would always be about him trying not to hurt her. They’d never be intimate either. Total deal-breaker. But could she handle living in his dark world? It seemed so violent and cruel.

He said things would be better after your transformation. Don’t you trust him? He saved your life.

Yes, she did. But
he
didn’t trust her. That hadn’t changed. He also said he didn’t love her and never could. That mattered.

But so does the fact you want him. And…with time, he might learn to love. Look how long it took you.
It was true; Helena had never tried to open her heart to anyone until Niccolo came along.

Helena glanced at Andrus through the rear view mirror. His head was propped against the door, arms crossed against his chest. God—
oops
—gods, he was beautiful. His thick dark brown hair swirled in random spikes, his dark lashes fanned out along the slit of his closed eyes. His lips had a slight fullness to them, making him appear as though he was puckering for a kiss.

Helena shook her head.
He's still not Niccolo.

There was also something about Andrus she didn’t trust. Maybe that dark cloud following him? Whatever it was, she still couldn’t resist wanting to help him. He was in pain, alone. She could relate.

Chapter 13

“Crap!” Andrus sat up in the backseat of the vacant Hummer. It was parked in an empty lot behind a motel under a shedding tree. Yellow and brown leaves covered the windshield along with a light sprinkle of rain.

He jumped out and scanned the area. Where the hell was Helena? There was no trace of her smell. The rain had washed it away. Could she have gone to the hotel?

He charged toward the side of the building and found the entrance to the reception. A young woman with short strawberry blond hair stood behind the counter. The moment she looked up her smile melted away.

“May I help you?” she asked with a shaky voice.

Andrus leaned over the counter, his height and size easily bringing him a foot from the woman’s face. “I am traveling with a young woman. She has shoulder-length, blond hair. Where is she?”

The woman smiled nervously. She handed him a small envelope with a card key. “The young woman was just here and asked me to direct you to your room.”

Andrus let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Where the hell are we?”

Confused, she answered, “Amarillo, Texas.”

He nodded and turned toward the elevator.

“But,” the clerk added, her voice barely a whisper, “she also asked me to tell you that she’d gone for food.”

“Where?”

The woman backed away from the counter and pointed across the street.

***

Seriously? Is this the only place to get food? What a nasty dive,
Helena thought as she pulled open the stainless steel door of the roadside bar.

The parking lot was littered with Harleys, beat up trucks, and, well…litter. The building was worn and nondescript except for a crooked, washed out sign over the entrance that read
Bar.

As soon as she opened the second set of doors, her heart stopped and so did every leather-clad man in the cesspool. Every face—unshaven, bearded, or just plain dirty—swiveled towards her.

The inside mirrored the outside decorum: floors and walls painted black, no windows, and one neglected pool table in the corner.

Not exactly an Opentable.com establishment, is it? Neither open, nor any tables.

Helena’s eyes migrated to the only splash of color and light in the entire establishment: a giant neon rainbow over the cash register behind the bar. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s
Free Bird
played on the jukebox.

She sighed with relief.
Gay bar! Sweet lord, thank you.
She lifted her chin, and smiled. “Where can a girl get a killer Mojito around here?”

A few of the men smiled at her and turned back to their conversations. One man, who was wearing leather chaps, jeans, and a leather vest, pointed toward the bar. “Fernando there, makes the meanest Mojito this side of the Caribbean. Just hope you’re a fan of hangovers.”

Fernando—a lanky, tall man with short brown hair—looked up from behind the bar, shaking a martini, and gave her a wink.

Helena bellied up to the only open space at the very end of the bar. For a middle of nowhere gay bar, the place was packed.

“Mojito, sweetheart?” Fernando asked.

Helena paused, rethinking her choice. “Actually, make it a double Don Pedro and keep em’ coming.”

Tonight she just wanted to forget. Forget that a vampire had broken her heart. Forget that there were gods abducting vampires and making them into Demilords to kill Obscuros. Forget that she was “married” to a vampire she hadn’t actually married and who didn’t love her. God-effing-double dammit, life bit hard!

Pity party again, Helena?

Yes! Okay…Yes! I am having my pity party so…get out the pity-piñata and the pity-pretzels!

Fernando slid a thick tumbler her way. Helena caught it in her hand and threw it back. She wiped her mouth with her hand and nodded to Fernando. He raised one brow and returned to refill her glass.

“Man problems, honey?” Fernando asked as he refilled her glass.

Helena sneered. “You could say that.”

He rested his hand on top of hers. “Let me give you a piece of advice: none of them are worth it. They’ll say anything to get in your pants—promise you the stars—then leave you the minute they get bored. Save yourself the trouble and take up tennis or yoga.”

“Oh, put a clamp on it, Fernando,” said the redheaded man next to her. He was wearing black jeans and a wife-beater. “Don’t listen to him, honey. He’s just bitter because Pepe dumped his ass for a stockbroker.”

Helena’s chest buzzed with warmth as the second double shot took hold. She hit her palm on the bar and said, “That’s because men are pigs! What do you expect?”

Fernando laughed. “See, Joe. She gets it.”

“Maybe the problem isn’t the man, but the toy. I’ve never been dumped,” Joe bragged.

Fernando rolled his eyes. “You’re just in denial.” He moved down the bar to fill empty beer glasses.

“Really, honey. Don’t you listen to him,” Joe said. “You get what you deserve in life, and that includes your relationships.”

Helena snorted. “Maybe.” But what the hell did she do to deserve this paranormal soap opera? “Maybe not. Sometimes life is just unfair.”

The man chuckled. “What’s your name?”

Something about the redheaded man seemed vaguely familiar, but Helena couldn’t put her finger on it. “I’m Lena.” She threw back the third glass. “Recently brokenhearted and currently drowning her sorrow in the finest tequila money can buy.”

The man nodded. “I’m Joe.”

Helena smiled. “Well, Mr. Never Been Dumped, what’s your secret?”

He took a sip from his frosty mug. “Simple. I’m a man; I know what they want,” he said with a wide grin.

Helena laughed. “I’m pretty sure that even if I nailed that part, things wouldn’t change for me.”

Joe raised one brow. “It’s not so hard to figure out—all starts with the kiss. It’s your lover’s calling card. Get that right…and a man will follow you to the ends of the earth no matter what happens.”

“Ha!” she snorted. “Am I drunk, or did you just tell me I have relationship problems because I can’t kiss?”

Helena noticed the room starting to swirl. On her empty stomach, the tequila had just traveled at supersonic speed to her bloodstream.
Hiccup!
Helena covered her mouth. “Okay, maybe I am a teensie bit drunk. But you’re crazy if you think a kiss could get a man to love you.”

Joe chuckled. “The kiss is the most powerful tool in your box. In fact, I bet I can teach you to kiss so hot you’ll set lips on fire and even a gay man would pay
you
for lessons.”

Helena laughed. “What the hell. I’m in.”

***

Andrus charged through the parking lot, anger spilling from every pore. What the hell was the woman thinking going into a dive like this? Images flowed through his mind of finding Helena screaming as some man roughed her up, intending to do vile things to her innocent body.

Andrus raised his arm and slid his hand under the neck of his leather duster, readying to pull the sword strapped to his back. He yanked open the first set of doors and then stopped dead in his tracks.

On the other side of the second door he could hear men screaming loudly.
Shit!
He swung it open.