Secret Life Of A Vampire (19 page)

LaToya snorted. “Tough break, creepazoid.”

“Her ability to resist is definitely good, but her inability to hear the psychic voice could spell disaster for her. Once Apollo figures out that he has no control over her, he will probably kill her.”

There was silence.

“She'll be safe as long as he's giving psychic orders to a group,” Jack continued. “She can mimic the other girls. But if he gives her a direct order, and she can't hear it and obey, the jig will be up.”

“I see what you mean,” LaToya said quietly.

“I could work with her and help her develop the ability to hear the psychic voice.”

“What if she loses her ability to resist his control?” LaToya asked.

“I'll teach her how to listen but not succumb. I strongly feel that she needs to do this.”

There was a pause. “Maybe.”

“I could find her myself,” Jack said. “I believe she's at Syracuse University.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. “I'm not confirming that.”

As far as Jack was concerned, she just had. “I don't want to force my presence on her, so will you tell her what I said? If she agrees to see me, I'll try to help her.”

There was another long pause. “I'll tell her.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me,” LaToya growled. “You try any tricky stuff with my girlfriend, and I'm coming after you. You'll wish you'd never left your home planet.” She hung up.

As the third Saturday in June approached, Jack was ready to rip his hair out. Every lead that he and his team had checked out had proven false. The damned resort could be anywhere. They had assumed Apollo would stay close to his hunting grounds, but with teleportation, he could be anywhere. Even Greece, although teleporting east, into the rising sun, was always a dangerous proposition for a vampire.

Roman extended their search parameters by asking coven masters around the world to report any leads in their areas of jurisdiction. This kept Jack and his team busy every night. Still, with a growing sense of despair, he realized time was slipping by. And LaToya had not called him back.

Lara must really hate him if she was willing to risk more danger rather than see him again.

When Saturday arrived, he paced around the conference table. One week to go before Apollo would strike again. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He hadn't seen Lara in almost a month, but his love for her was stronger than ever. His desperation to keep her alive was overwhelming. He was sorely tempted to hunt her down, grab her, and teleport her far away. She would never forgive him, but so what? He was already in hell without her love. How could it get any worse?

His phone rang, and he whipped it open. “Pronto?”

“Jack, is that you?” LaToya asked.

“Yes.” He held his breath and sent up a silent prayer.

“Lara wants to see you.”

Sunday night, Lara left the Graham Dining Center on the north campus of Syracuse University and strolled down the street to her new home. The special task force had found her a room in Day Hall, since the last victim from Syracuse had lived there. No doubt Apollo found it amusing to kidnap a girl who lived off Mount Olympus Drive.

She could have taken the passageway from the dining center to the residence hall, but she wanted to get away from the constant noise of jabbering students. How could she worry properly if she couldn't hear herself think? And she had a whole lot to worry about.

She glanced to the west, where the setting sun was gleaming pink and gold off the Carrier Dome. Jack would be up soon. Rising from the grave, she thought with a shudder. Would he call her? She was so nervous about the prospect of seeing him again that she'd hardly touched her supper.

She'd asked LaToya to call him last night. LaToya was supposed to give him her new cell-phone number and ask him to call tonight. Lara had been a nervous wreck all day.

Damn that man! She'd tried so hard to put him out of her mind. And her heart. She'd immersed herself in the preparations for her assignment. Hours of martial arts, strength training, and coaching on how to handle stress and the criminal mastermind. And still, Jack had crept into her thoughts. With every muscle in her body aching from exhaustive workouts, she still felt the ache in her heart.

It was akin to mourning, she'd decided. She'd lost the man who could have been the love of her life.

She'd tried denial at first. There were no such things as vampires, and poor Jack was simply crazy. He couldn't be a vampire. He didn't act like a monster. Sure didn't kiss like one. Or make love like one. But she refused to think about that. Denial had worked well. For about two hours.

Then anger had taken root, growing into rage. How could such monsters exist unknown for centuries? And how on earth could she fall for one? How could she have missed all the signs? And how dare Jack pursue her as if a relationship was actually possible? A mortal would have to be clinically insane to marry a vampire.

Then she recalled Shanna and her beautiful children. Shanna was obviously a happy woman. But how could anyone marry a monster who fed on people? She had to admit, though, that Jack had never tried to feed on her. He'd always behaved like a perfect gentleman. Well, more like a naughty gentleman, but he was a Casanova, after all. The few times she'd seen him drink, he must have been drinking synthetic blood. Did that mean he didn't like to bite people?

And then the revelation had hit. Jack could have been transformed against his will. He could have been a victim, much like the poor girls who were kidnapped by Apollo. He could have been forced to bite people for years just in order to survive. Was that why he referred to the nine circles of hell so much? He was trapped in a living hell.

Lara shook her head as she entered Day Hall. She couldn't allow herself to feel sorry for Jack. He was over two hundred years old, so he'd obviously bitten a lot of people. She ought to feel sorry for his victims, not him.

She stepped into an elevator and punched the button for the eighth floor. Great. A couple was kissing in the back corner. She kept her back to them and ignored the moans of passion. The memory flitted back of her elevator trip to the top of the campanile in Venice. Jack had been so romantic, so sweet. Why couldn't he have been a normal guy? Would you have been so fascinated with him if he were a normal guy? Would you have fallen in love?

“I'm not in love,” she muttered, and the elevator lurched to a stop on the fifth floor.

“Then find another guy,” the young woman said with a laugh as she exited the elevator with her boyfriend.

Lara groaned and pushed the button to close the elevator. Another guy? There was no one who came close to Jack. No other man had that combination of cleverness, old-world charm, and mouthwatering good looks. She'd been totally intrigued by his unusual powers and the mystery surrounding him. Until she'd found out the truth.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears as she recalled the look on his face the last time she'd seen him. She'd yelled at him to leave, and there had been so much pain and sadness in his eyes. Poor Jack.

“Aargh!” She was doing it again. Jack was not a poor, abandoned puppy. He was a vampire. She exited the elevator and trudged down the hallway to Room 843.

The problem was, now that she was under cover, she had too much time to think. It had been easier when the special task force had kept her busy.

They'd given her a new identity—Lara Booker. Everything was set. Her only job now was to check the bulletin boards every day in the twenty residence halls spread over the huge campus. She was waiting for the flyer from Apollo to show up.

The FBI had determined that Syracuse University was the most likely place for Apollo to strike next. Even so, they were covering all the bases. Female special agents were checking bulletin boards at several colleges. Whenever the flyer appeared, Lara would be called into action. She'd attend the seminar and get herself kidnapped.

But what if Jack was right, and her immunity to mind control backfired on her? It wasn't a problem she could discuss with the special task force. How could she tell them about mind-controlling vampires? The only one who would understand was her friendly neighborhood mind-controlling vampire, Jack.

Her heart raced as she entered her single dorm room and locked the door. Would he call soon? Would he come to see her? Did he still love her?

No! She wouldn't think about love. She would accept his help, then say good-bye. But what if he looked at her with that pain and sadness in his beautiful eyes? She couldn't bear to hurt him.

We're not all bad, he'd told her.

She leaned over the desk to peer through the window blinds. The sun was completely gone now. She removed her new cell phone from her handbag and set it on the desk. She stared at it, willing it to ring.

If what Jack said was true, then there could be good vampires and bad ones. Did the good ones attempt to keep the bad ones in line? LaToya had told her that Jack was trying to locate Apollo, but hadn't succeeded so far.

She paced across the room. The damned phone would never ring as long as she stared at it. What was Jack doing now? Was he drinking synthetic blood? Taking a shower? Getting dressed? Did he still love her?

The phone rang. She whirled to face it. Jack. She approached slowly, letting it ring again. “Hello?”

“Lara.”

The sound of his voice poured over her like a hot bath. She just wanted to soak in it for hours. She mentally splashed cold water on herself. This was strictly business. “Hello, Jack. LaToya mentioned your offer to help me hear psychic voices. I'm willing to learn, if you're available.”

There was a pause. She wondered what he was thinking.

“I have cleared my schedule for the next few hours,” he said finally. “We could start immediately.”

Lara exhaled with relief. He was acting businesslike, too. Thank God. “Just a moment, please. I'll check my schedule.” She glanced down at the bare desk and drummed her fingers on the wooden surface. One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. “Yes, we're in luck. I can fit you in this evening. Do we need to do this in person?”

“Yes, we do.”

She frowned. There was a strange echo on her phone.

“You can hang up now,” he told her.

“Excuse me?” She heard a click behind her and turned. “Ack!” Her phone tumbled to the carpet.

With a hint of a smile, he slid his closed phone into a pocket of his black leather jacket. His gaze drifted to her bare desk. “So kind of you to fit me in.”

She grabbed her phone off the floor and set it back on the desk. “You shouldn't sneak up on people like that.”

“I thought you were expecting me.” He walked toward her.

She jumped out of his way.

He paused briefly, frowning, then continued past her to the desk. With a silent groan, she realized he had been headed for the window all along.

He peered through the blinds. “This is Syracuse University?”

“Yes. Day Hall. The girl Apollo kidnapped from here last August lived in this same dorm.”

“Does anyone remember her?” Jack asked. “Is her roommate still here?”

“The roommate graduated last December. I asked around, but everyone thinks the missing girl dropped out of school and went home.” Lara perched on the edge of the narrow bed that was pushed against a wall. “She never made it home.”

Jack paced back and forth down the length of the tiny room. She cast a few furtive glances his way, not wanting to be caught admiring his lean, graceful stride or his broad shoulders.

“Is there any way I can convince you to quit?” he asked.

She lifted her chin. “I'm not a quitter.”

“Are you sure about that?” he muttered under his breath as he continued to pace.

Was he referring to their relationship? Lara's cheeks heated with indignation. He was a two-hundred-year-old vampire, for Pete's sake. Was she supposed to be happy about that?

“I'm not a quitter, either.” He removed his leather jacket and draped it on the back of her desk chair. “I'm going to find Apollo before you end up doing something foolish.”

“Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence.” She glared at him.

He glared back as he sat down. “You're plenty tough for a mortal, but you're still no match for a vampire.”

She looked away. “Exactly. I shouldn't be matched with a vampire.”

“Let's get started.” His voice sounded strained.

“Fine by me.” She turned back to him and clasped her hands in her lap. “What do I need to do?”

“Nothing. I do all the work, and you just try to be… receptive to me.”

She gripped her hands tighter. “Okay.”

He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his thighs, and studied her intently. The gold flecks in his eyes seemed to grow until the entire iris was gold and gleaming.

Lara looked away, uncomfortable with the fierce energy radiating from his stare. The room seemed awfully hot. Her skin began to tingle all over. Especially her breasts. The tingling sensation took a sudden turn south. She pressed her thighs together. She was suddenly desperate to feel a man inside her. And not just any man. Jack.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered.

She gulped. His eyes were actually glowing now. “What are you doing?”

“Turning up the power. This is how a vampire lures people in.”

She stiffened. “So you can bite them?”

“I haven't bitten a woman since 1987, when synthetic blood was introduced.”

“How considerate of you.” She lifted her chin and gazed nonchalantly across the room. “I guess you're a bit rusty, 'cause I'm not feeling much of anything.”

“Maybe you're just insensitive.”

She shot him an annoyed look.

His mouth twitched. “You are feeling it. Your heart is pounding. Your temperature has increased. I can feel the heat coming off you like—”

“All right.” She clenched her teeth. “Is there a point to this? I thought we were going to concentrate on hearing voices.”

“I'm trying to assess your capabilities. Your sense of touch seems to be working fine. I think it's only your hearing that's off-kilter.”

A blast of cold air nearly knocked Lara on her back. With a shiver, she righted herself.

“You felt that.” He watched her closely.

“Yes.” The cold air swirled around her, sweeping icy tendrils across her brow. “You're trying to invade my mind?”

He nodded. “Normally, I would be in by now.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You don't make people squawk and do the chicken dance, do you?”

Now he gave her an annoyed look. “Do you hear anything at all?”

She shut her eyes and focused. There was a buzzing behind her ears that sounded like radio static. “Are you saying something now?”

“Yes.”

She wondered what. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, frowning with all the concentration she could muster. The buzzing sounded louder and more masculine, more like Jack, but she couldn't distinguish any individual words.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes. “This isn't working. All I'm getting from you is a buzz.”

His mouth curled up. “Was it good for you?”

“No.” She scowled at him. “It's like having a pesky mosquito in my head.”

“Damned bloodsuckers. I hate them.”

“Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?”

He smiled slowly and leaned closer to her. “I need to touch you. Now.”

She gulped. “I… but…”

“On your head,” he explained, still smiling. “I can make a stronger connection that way.”

“Oh.” She recalled how he had touched Megan's head in order to release her suppressed memories. “I guess that will be all right.”

Her heart speeded up when he sat on the bed beside her. Icy currents swirled around her, brushing against her skin and raising goose bumps. She shivered.

He rested a hand on top of her hand. “Concentrate.”

She closed her eyes, and the buzzing returned. It was deep and masculine now. It ricocheted from one ear to the other, a jumble of words that she couldn't isolate. The harder she tried, the more her temples throbbed.

“Can you hear me?” he whispered.

She shook her head.

His fingers tightened their grip, digging into her scalp. A sudden burst of pain stabbed like an icy dagger between her eyes. With a gasp, she fell back and broke contact.

“Ow.” She rubbed her brow. “What the hell was that?”

“I used too much power. I'm sorry.”

“It's just a headache.” She massaged her throbbing temples. “It'll be worth it if this helps keep me alive.”

“I would do anything to keep you alive.”

“That makes two of us.” She scooted back on the bed so she could rest her back against the wall. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, willing the pain in her head to subside.

I'm still in love with you.

Her eyes flew open. “We shouldn't talk about that.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“But…” She could have sworn she'd heard him speak. Had it been wishful thinking? She caught her breath when she realized what had happened.