Lost Girl: Hidden Book One (18 page)

I felt my face flush hotter. “My demon. Not me. Remember?”

“Bullshit.”

“Your words,” I reminded him.

“I lied.”

“We’re getting off the subject. We need to focus,” I said.

“You’re just using me for my rage,” he said, meeting my eyes. Humor there. Holy shit the effect just his eyes had on me.

Down, girl.

I tried to shake it off, cool him down. “And as my own personal punching bag.”

“Yeah, but that only turns me on more. You’re hot when you’re in a demonic rage.”

My stomach somersaulted. I shook my head. “You’re in a mood again. Rein it in, devil boy.”

He smiled. Then he tangled his fingers into my hair and pulled me toward him. And when his lips met mine, when he pressed my body to his, when he set me on his lap, kissed me senseless and marked my throat with his teeth over and over again, I did the same to him. And finally, I held nothing back.

♦ ♦ ♦

A couple of hours later, long after the sun had set, I disentangled myself from Nain and headed down to my car. I wasn’t ready for what was obviously on his mind. On my mind. Not just yet.

The demon could
kiss
.

Good Hades.

I had that feeling again that I could fly if I only set my mind to it. I was full of power, I was strong, I was giddy. Everything in the part of my brain that was still sane was screaming at me that this was stupid, that it would only end badly, because, duh, demons, and I wouldn’t come back from it unbroken.

I ignored that part of my brain, for once in my life.

So I was grinning when I stepped out of Nain’s building and into the parking lot. Stone and Brennan had brought my car over from my house earlier in the week, so I’d have it if I needed it. Veronica had forgiven me, grudgingly, for ducking out on her. When I got to my car, Brennan was standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the driver’s side door.

“Brennan,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “Something you need?”

“How did training go?” he asked, and the venom in his voice surprised me.

“You saw,” I said.

He just looked at me. Angry, disappointed. Jealous?

“Bren…” I began.

“Just don’t,” he said. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

“You and I are friends. There was never even the possibility for more,” I said, as gently as I could.

“You could have told me that before,” he said.

“I didn’t realize it was necessary. I didn’t know–”

“You can read emotions and you didn’t know? You’re pretty shitty at it, then.”

“I read it as flirting. I knew you were attracted to me. I didn’t expect this.”

“So, what? That’s it?”

I just stared at him. “How did I miss this?” I asked, myself more than him.

He just glared at me. I could feel it, then. I’d hurt him, more than I ever would have guessed.

“Brennan, it’s always been Nain,” I said, blushing, knowing the words were true as they left my lips. “Always. As much as I hate him sometimes, as much of a bastard as he is…it’s him.”

“Because of the demon thing?”

“That, and everything. Whatever he is, it’s part of me and I’m part of him. I didn’t realize it fully until I said it just now, but, yeah. He belongs to me.”

“How nice for you,” he muttered.

“Don’t do this,” I begged. “You’re a good, powerful, gorgeous man. You have women throwing themselves at you just walking down the street. I’m the last thing you need.”

“Just forget it,” he said, turning and walking back into the building.

I was watching him storm into the building, when the imp leader popped out of the Barracuda.

“Hey,” I said to him.

“Mistress. Lost girl. East Side imp brigade reports intel that she’s in a house in Indian Village.”

“Normals, or something else?”

“Vampire.”

“Just one?”

He nodded. “Still might want to call demon skin,” he said, ears twitching. “Vampires nasty.”

I glanced at the building. “I can handle one vampire,” I said.

The imp’s disbelief was evident on his face. “As Mistress says,” was all he said. We got into the car and headed toward Indian Village.

Leader imp, deputy imp, and I drove to Indian Village. I circled the neighborhood, driving past the house twice. This was a ritzy neighborhood. The homes were large, well-tended. Expensive cars sat in the driveways, and the word “manicured” aptly described everything from the lawns to the people. I’d noticed a private security car driving around. I’d have to avoid that. The last thing I needed was to have to answer questions about what I was doing sneaking around in this neighborhood, wearing all black.

A house like this was trickier than the dumps I usually had to make my way into. One like this could have alarms. Hell, that was probably a given. Especially if the person living there had something to hide. Like a girl.

I parked the car a couple of blocks away, in the parking lot of a little neighborhood coffee shop. I got out and disappeared into the night, jumping fences and making sure I avoided the security squad, making my way back to the brick Tudor where, right this very moment, someone might be living or dying solely on the whim of a sicko creature of the night.

Times like this, when I was getting ready to run into the unknown, I felt more alive than at almost any other time, especially until I’d met Nain. Rage filled me, adrenaline pumped through my veins, and I could feel my power singing within me. My body felt loose. It was the only time I felt normal.

Man, I was one screwed up chick.

I got into the back yard and crept around the house, listening. I could hear a television on somewhere on the first floor. Probably the family room. Or, what did rich people call them…dens? Maybe in the den.

I went around the back. A window was open, letting in the cool night breeze. I listened outside, heard nothing. Cutting the screen and climbing in was simple. This was ridiculously easy.

I was in a bedroom. Dark and empty. I stood and listened, let my eyes adjust to the darkness. The den was across the hall.

“I hear you in there. You might as well come in here talk to me, Angel,” a male voice said. And now I knew what a vampire felt like; an energy signature so smooth, so powerful, that it was easy to see how the Normals succumbed to their charms so readily.

I held my knife and walked out of the room and into the den. The imps were still following me. “Sure about this, Mistress?” leader imp asked in a raspy whisper.

I nodded. “Too late now to turn back.”

We walked into the den. The vampire was sitting on a dark red wingback chair. He was not a bad looking fella, for an undead parasite. Rather handsome, actually, with wavy brown hair and dark eyes. Pale skin. Fangs.

“Your little network works quickly, doesn’t it?” he asked, folding his hands in his lap.

“Yeah, well. We try.”

“It’s an imperfect system, it would seem. There are no girls here. Well, there weren’t until you arrived,” he said, smiling.

Oh, shit. I exchanged glances with leader imp. “We been set up, Mistress,” he said, shame flooding through him.

“It was easy. Start a rumor or two, get the right people talking. I knew I could count on your imp army to carry word to you.” He was still smiling. I surveyed my surroundings, planning, always planning. “Are you afraid? You are.” He smiled again as if we were discussing the weather.

“Nah. I’m just disgusted by your decorating choices. Very old lady,” I said, still looking around.

He laughed, though I felt irritation coming from him. He wanted me afraid, trembling. Good luck with that, buddy. I’d be afraid later.

“So, now what? Shouldn’t there be organ music or something playing, Dracula?”

“Watch it, Angel.” Irritation. This one was vain. I could use that. Hopefully.

“So, how are we going to do this? Are you just going to be a nice vamp and admit you made a mistake luring me here? Or am I going to have to hurt you?”

He smiled at me again. His fangs grew. “Oh, I think we should play a while. I can’t keep you, unfortunately. Reward to collect and all, but I bet your blood would be spectacular,” he said. “I’m sure Astaroth won’t begrudge me a little taste.” And he got up and charged at me, faster than I would have thought possible.

I grabbed a heavy marble ugly candlestick thing off of a nearby table and swung it at him, Detroit Tigers style, just as he reached me. I made contact, and my arms jerked with the impact. He fell down, but was right back up again. His head was bleeding, but he shook it off and sprung at me again. I kicked out, catching him in the gut. Note to self: have Brennan teach me more martial arts when he’s done being pissed at me. Those kicks came in damn handy, I thought as I watched the vampire fly back against the expensive mahogany bookcases.

I advanced on him, swung the candlestick at him again while he was down, and he caught my wrist in mid-swing. I kicked him between the legs, and he let go of my arm. While he was bent double, I brought the candlestick down on the back of his head, twice. The second time dropped him.

I didn’t waste any time in binding his wrists behind him and his ankles together with the zip ties. I had no illusions that they would hold him forever. Vampires were strong, and I’d gotten lucky. I needed to remember to start carrying silver or garlic or something with me.

Vampires. Holy shit.

I added an additional zip tie to both his wrists and ankles. Then I glanced at him one more time and crept through the house. I’d make sure he didn’t have any snacks stashed anywhere before I left. The first floor yielded nothing, as did the second floor.

I peeked in at him, noted that he was still out, then headed down to the basement.

Nothing. Well, that much was a relief.

“Gotta go, Mistress,” the leader imp said, pulling on my pant leg. “Should have left already.”

“I know. I had to be sure. We’re going.”

Then, of course, I heard footsteps on the basement stairs. I cursed myself for not moving faster. My life was like one of those horror movies where you’re yelling at the girl “no, no, don’t go in the basement” and she does it anyway. Dumb, dumb, dumb. The imps shrunk back, giving me a fearful glance.

I grabbed the candlestick again. It had worked wonders so far.

Chapter Twelve

The vampire was now visible on the stairway. And the further down he came, the better I was able to see him.

And he carried a sword.

Candlestick-wielding mindflayer versus sword-wielding vampire. Great.

I tried using my mental power, even though, from what little I knew, I didn’t think they’d work on vamps. “You want to drop the sword now,” I said, filling my voice. He simply laughed and shook his head.

“Mortal mind powers have no effect on the undead, bitch,” he said, coming slowly toward me. “It’s convenient that you made your way down here. Blood is so hard to get out of the upholstery.”

Keep him talking. “It’s ugly furniture anyway. The blood would be an improvement.” He kept coming at me. “That’s quite a bump there, Fangy. Poor baby,” I mocked.

“I can see why you have so many enemies,” he growled. “It will be a pleasure to have you unconscious for a while.”

“Well, I’ll just stand here, trembling in fear. Oh, wait. No. No, I won’t.”

“What are you going to do, mortal?”

“I am going to kick your pale ass so hard you won’t know which hole to piss out of.” Then I thought a second. “Wait. Do vampires even have to piss?”

“We do not.”

“Oh, well. You get the point.” And I lunged at him, surprising him, and he met my candlestick arm with his sword, sweeping the candlestick easily aside.

After a few more hits, it became clear that getting into a fight with a vampire was among the dumbest ideas I’d ever had.

He kept sweeping the sword at me, and the best I could do was try to time it to knock the sword away. I earned a series of cuts along my arms, shoulders, and sides, and I could feel my blood soaking through my clothing. I was weakening. I was strong, when I was fully focused. But a lot of my power was going toward closing and healing the wounds I was getting. And I was accumulating wounds faster than I could heal them.

He was pushing me back, toward the wall, trying to corner me. His fangs were fully extended now, and he had a crazed, hungry look in his eyes. All the blood.

He struck at me, hard, with the sword, and I backed up, trying to miss the blade that was aimed for my neck. I ended up overbalancing, and tripped over a crate on the floor behind me, fell back, hard, onto the concrete floor.

He laughed, gleefully, like a madman, and tossed the sword aside, leaping on top of me. I struggled, but vampires are freakishly strong, and I was weak from healing. I needed more energy. I cursed my stupidity.

Fire. Fire and vampires didn’t mix. I tried to call my fire as the vampire lowered his face to my throat.

Nothing. Too weak.

Stupid. So freaking stupid, I cursed myself.

I felt his fangs pierce the side of my neck, in slow, agonizing detail. I could feel the instant fang punctured skin. I could feel my blood start to trickle, felt each pull as he began to drink from me. My neck and shoulder were on fire.