The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo (Love at Stake) (8 page)

“Death cannot change a person’s character,” Emma explained. “Bad people become evil vampires, and good guys like Angus—well, he’s my hero.”

Leah hated to admit it, but Emma’s story sounded a bit romantic. “And you’re married to him now?”

“Yes. We’re very happy.” Emma’s smile grew wistful. “He reminds me of a historical hero—Braveheart or Rob Roy. And the way he talks—it still melts my heart.”

Abby nodded in agreement. “There’s something about a guy in a kilt. I’ve been trying to talk Gregori into getting one.”

He snorted. “I’m not wearing a damned skirt.”

A vision of Dougal flitted through Leah’s mind. She’d thought he was wonderfully attractive until she’d caught him assaulting a woman. Or a doll. “I still don’t understand why Dougal was attacking a rubber doll.” She shuddered, remembering the shock of seeing the arm rip off and the blood squirt out.

The room grew silent. Emma and Gregori exchanged a worried look.

“I-I’m sure he had a reason,” Abby mumbled.

“Like he’s a violent pervert?” Leah asked.

Abby winced. “He never struck me that way. I always thought he was shy.”

“Actually,” Gregori said, “I don’t think he approved of us bringing you here. He questioned if we had the right to drag you into our world.”

Leah sat up. Was that why he’d looked so tense and agitated when everyone else had been cheerful? Was he actually on her side? She shook that thought away. He was a violent, wild person. She didn’t dare trust him.

Emma’s cell phone rang. “It’s Angus. I’ll take this in the hall.” She hurried from the room.

Gregori picked VANNA up and headed for the door. “I’ll get rid of this.”

“Permanently, I hope,” Abby muttered, then shifted on the bed to look at Leah. “So you’re okay now?”

“I guess.” Leah shrugged. “Did you have a hard time accepting all this supernatural stuff?”

“Not too hard. I was desperate to find some plants in China that I thought would help my sick mother, but it seemed impossible. That’s when my father arranged for the vampires to teleport me there.”

“So you were well motivated to accept them.”

“Exactly.” Abby smiled. “The Vamps and shifters took me there and protected me.” Her smile faded. “At one point, we were captured by Master Han, and while we were escaping, one of the bad guys came at me with a sword. Gregori jumped in front of me and was stabbed in the back. I almost lost him.” She blinked away some tears and smiled. “I cry way too easily these days. Must be the hormones.”

Leah slid off the bed and paced across the room. Abby and Emma made their husbands sound like heroes. Undead heroes fighting against the supernatural forces of evil. It sounded as fanciful as the stories her grandfather used to tell her.

Grandpa had always said there was a world beyond science, a magical world that could not be explained with logic. Her mother had warned her to pay no attention to his silly tales. Grandpa could never stroll along a rocky shore without looking for a selkie, or roam the green fields without searching for the fae. He had claimed his Uilleann pipes could entice the leprechauns to come out of hiding.

Mom had rejected her father and Ireland. She’d moved to the States to study at MIT, and there she’d fallen in love with a brilliant physics professor, Dr. Kai Ling Chin.

Leah had been raised on a strict, home-school regimen of science and rationalism. Her mind had thrived on it. But her heart had loved the one magical summer she’d spent with Grandpa. Her parents had been invited to speak at several prestigious conferences, and her two teenage brothers were already in college. After realizing that a nine-year-old girl was too young to fend for herself all summer, her parents had shipped her off to Ireland.

Grandpa had made her feel loved instead of abandoned. And wonderfully free. She’d danced barefoot in the meadow while he’d serenaded her with the pipes. She’d gathered flowers without learning their names in Latin. And she’d reveled in Grandpa’s stories where nothing was what it seemed. If he were still alive, he would laugh and drink a toast to this bizarre, new world she’d stumbled into.

So what should she do? Run back to her safe, secure world that made sense and followed the rules? Where dead people remained dead without waking up and craving blood, and humans remained human without shifting into killer cats? Her parents would say run. It was the logical choice.

But Grandpa would lean close to her ear and whisper, “Life is an adventure, lass. Live it to the fullest, and never look back.”

If she were fanciful like Grandpa, she would suspect that somehow his spirit had guided her here. She recalled the odd feeling that had swept over her earlier. As if her whole life had been a series of small steps leading her to this one moment in time.
Fate.

She shook her head. She was too logical to believe in fate. Her decisions had been her own. She was master of her own destiny. She’d accepted the perfect job, one that required a physician and geneticist. And Dr. Lee had offered great benefits and an outstanding salary.
Because the Vamps wanted you.

She’d been drawn into this world on purpose.
Fate
. And she’d felt it the first time she saw
him
. Dougal. The Undead pervert who ripped arms off lifelike sex toys. She could almost hear her grandfather’s cackling laughter.

“Dougal!” Emma’s voice yelled in the hallway. “You shouldn’t go in there.”

Leah spun toward the door, her heart thudding.

“Angus told me about your prosthesis malfunctioning,” Emma continued. “I’ll explain it to Leah.”

Prosthesis? Leah’s thoughts raced as she searched her memory. The room had been dark, but she’d clearly seen the blood splatter across Dougal’s pale face and white shirt, the shocked expression on his face, and the bloody arm clutched in his hand. A metallic, bloodstained hand. A vampire with a prosthetic hand? And, apparently, a malfunctioning one. Did that mean the bloody assault had been nothing more than an accident?

When a deep voice responded, she stepped closer to the doorway.

“ . . . my fault. I should apologize. I frightened her out of her wits.”

She smiled to herself. He had pronounced
out
like “oot.” And his lilting accent sounded like sweet, soothing music. She slapped herself mentally. What was she thinking? That a vampire was attractive? His voice and handsome looks hardly made up for the fact that he was a bloodsucker. And why was she so eager to excuse the assault as a simple accident? He had looked like a wild man, his hair flying and his voice roaring in anger.

Her heart jolted when his large frame filled the open doorway, and his gaze immediately fixed on her. Green, expressive eyes that studied her intently.

He was even bigger close up. His navy polo shirt clung to every muscled contour of his chest and shoulders. He still wore his bright and colorful kilt, made of a green, black, and red plaid. Green knee socks hugged his muscular calves.

He stood with his feet wide apart and his hands at his sides. His right hand was gray and metallic. A series of tiny clicking noises emanated from it as he curled it into a fist. Was it strong enough to tear a real person’s arm off?

She eased back a step, then lifted her gaze to his face. To the injured look in his eyes.

“I doona blame you for being afraid of me,” he said softly. “But I willna harm you.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’m not afraid.”

His eyes softened. His skin was pale, a stark contrast to the dark whiskers lining his chiseled jaw and the long black hair brushed neatly back and tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck.

A wide brow, high cheekbones, strong chin, and an abundance of lean muscle in all the right places. He was the type of man who could actually be called beautiful and still be wonderfully masculine.

A shame he was dead.

A bigger shame that she found him so appealing.
Vampire,
she reminded herself. Strong and wild enough to rip a woman’s arm off.

She lifted her chin. “You were watching me on the cameras, weren’t you? Did you enjoy the show? Was my performance amusing?”

His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Nay. I dinna enjoy it.” He stepped into the room. “But I thought ye were verra brave and strong.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest.

Emma walked into the room, pocketing her cell phone. “Well? Are you going to explain, or shall I?” she asked Dougal.

“I will.” He turned to Leah and lifted his right hand. “My hand locked on VANNA’s arm. The prosthesis wouldna obey my command to release. I dinna mean to tear her arm off. ’Twas an accident.”

That was a relief. Sorta. He had still reacted like a wild man. The volcano might be sleeping now, but who knew when he would erupt again? Leah’s eyes narrowed on his hand. “How do you command it to do things?”

He hesitated. “Mind control.”

She suppressed a shudder. He probably had the power to tamper with her mind like Dr. Lee had done. “Then what was malfunctioning—the hand or your mind?”

Dougal winced. “My mind, I think.” He rolled his right shoulder. “I’m no’ crazy. I just lost control. I’m no’ sure why.”

Well, at least he seemed honest. It would have been so much easier for him to claim mechanical failure. “How did you lose your hand?”

“In battle.” He shifted his weight. “I’m no’ a bad swordsman. I was outnumbered. Five to one.”

“You were fighting with swords?”

“Aye. I lunged at one, and another one sliced my hand off. It turned to dust.”

Leah grimaced. “That had to be awful to see.”

“It dinna feel verra good, either.”

“You can . . . feel pain?”

He gave her a wry look. “Ye think my feelings are dead?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

He lifted one brow. “I can feel anything ye can.”

One look at his expressive eyes and she knew that was true.

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “May I have a word with you, lass?”

Her heart fluttered. She hadn’t been called a lass since the last time she’d seen her grandfather. Odd, but this man was probably older than her grandfather, even though he looked fairly young, only a few years older than herself.

“In private,” he added.

“Not a good idea,” Emma said. “We can’t have you scaring her away.”

He cast an annoyed look at her. “Verra well.” He turned back to Leah, and his dark brows quirked slightly with a questioning expression. “Do ye wish to leave?”

Her breath caught. “Leave?”

“Aye. If ye want to go home, I can take you.”

He
was
on her side. A burst of warm hope spread through her chest. She could go home. Dougal would help her.

“Dougal,” Emma warned him.

“Aye, I ken.” He shot her an irritated look. “Ye want to drag the puir lass into our world and our problems. But has anyone asked her what she wants?” He shifted his gaze back to Leah. “We have no right to keep you here. If ye want to go, I can teleport you home right away.”

Leah blinked. “Teleport?”

“Dougal,” Emma spoke more sharply. “We need her.”

“She doesna need us.”

Emma sighed. “We can’t simply let her go, not when she knows about us. There’s protocol to follow—”

“You mean erasing my memory?” Leah asked.

“I willna do that,” Dougal said.

“What?” Emma stiffened. “That’s against regulations, and you know it.”

“To hell with yer regulations,” Dougal growled. “If ye trust her enough to expect her to help us, then ye can trust her to keep our secret.” He turned back to Leah. “Am I right? Do ye plan to make us public?”

She shook her head. “Everyone would think I was crazy. And then I’d have a really hard time getting another job.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Aye, there is that.” He moved closer. “Shall we go?”

She stepped back. Her prior reluctance to remain had stemmed from feeling forced, but now that she actually had a choice, she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. Any other job would seem boring compared to what she could do here. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get away for a few days to think it over. “How does this teleportation work?”

“I hold onto you and read yer mind to see where ye want to go. Then we go.”

The prospect of him holding onto her was intriguing, but she had serious doubts about the mind reading or going part. If he read her mind, he might see how attractive she thought he was. And the going part simply sounded impossible. “You mean we disappear and rematerialize?”

“Aye.”

“That can’t be safe. What if our bodies get accidentally fused together?”

He leaned forward and whispered, “Lass, if our bodies fuse together, ’twould no’ be by accident.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stepped back. Was he referring to sex? The gall of the man. He certainly wasn’t as shy as everyone thought. “How could I rely on you to take me home? You might take me to . . . to your underground lair.” Wasn’t that what vampires did?

His mouth twitched. “I’m fresh out of underground lairs.”

He’d said “oot” again, but she ignored the way it made her heart flutter. “I don’t trust you.”

“I understand. Ye doona know me.”

No, she didn’t. And if she refused to stay at this job, she might never get to know him. And that suddenly seemed like a terrible shame. How old was he? When and where had he been transformed? Why did he look at her like he was starving, and not just for blood?

Would it hurt to stay in New York while she made her decision? Would it hurt to even try the job for a few days? It might be the most interesting work she’d ever find. What if she could actually help these people and save lives? Maybe her own life would seem more like an adventure. Maybe, for the first time, she would find a place where she could actually make friends. These people would never consider her a freak, not when they were abnormal.

She took a deep breath. “I think I’ll stay here and give the job a try.”

Emma clapped her hands together. “That’s wonderful! Thank you!”

Abby rushed forward, grinning. “I’m so excited! It’s going to be great working with you.”

Leah smiled. “It should be interesting.” She cast a nervous glance at Dougal, who was watching her with a fierce gleam in his green eyes. Was he excited or angry? She couldn’t tell. “Are you going to be here?”