The Vampire's Protector (14 page)

Chapter 17

O
nce she'd wandered in to the Acquisition's reception area Summer didn't get a chance to say “hi” to the receptionist before the redhead gestured for her to head immediately into the director's office.

She stepped onto the metal grate surrounded by a biometric scanner and waited as the machine read her stats. Vampire. Retriever for two years. Thirteen successful retrievals. Marked for termination? She hoped not.

She exhaled as the scanner flashed green, signaling she could walk forward through the tall wood doors that opened into Ethan Pierce's office.

Pierce was also a vampire and kept his office dark and cool. She liked that. And he was an amiable man, always welcoming with his bright smile. Tufts of gray peppered above his ears in otherwise brown hair, so she'd often wondered how old he was. If vampire since birth it would take a long time to gray naturally. If he was a created vampire he could have been gray when it happened.

The man behind the desk gestured she sit in the leather chair before the desk, and she did so. “Good morning, Santiago.”

“Director Pierce.”

She smiled and crossed her legs, clasping her hands over her knees. Then changed her mind and put both feet on the floor, straightening her back. And then—hell, she hated being nervous. She wondered if CJ had already secured the violin? Was there magic strong enough to contain something the devil Himself had created?

She looked to Ethan to start with a battery of questions, but he merely stared at her. Not assessing or judging, but waiting. Mercy, just out with it!

Finally, he said, “Talk to me.”

Shoot. She would have preferred a drill of questions. Not free speech. She tended to ramble. And even when she wasn't talking, her thoughts rambled. Like now!

“Santiago?”

“Ah, yes. Er. So do you have a new mission for me?”

“Santiago,” he said more sternly.

“Right. Current mission discussion. Where to start?”

Ethan tapped a few keys on the keyboard and eyed the laptop screen to his right. “CJ just checked in Paganini's violin. Let's see if it stays put this time, eh?”

“We can certainly hope for that.”

“And the musician?”

CJ had probably sent Ethan a note about the alley snafu.

“He's...contained.”

The director leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the granite desktop. His eyes now looked into her. Summer's neck muscles tightened. Again, he silently nudged her to speak.

“I brought you the violin. That should be all you need. Please don't ask me to turn Paganini in,” she began her argument. “He's...alive. Renewed. He looks a man of thirty and not the fifties he was when he died. And he's cognizant, learning new things consistently. Did you actually expect me to shove him back in the ground? We Retrievers don't take lives unless that life presents a clear and immediate danger to innocents. He hasn't harmed a soul!”

“But he will, should the curse be enacted.”

“You don't know that.”

“CJ reports Paganini was mad to get his hands on the violin just now out in the alley. Santiago, that violin is cursed.”

“It's more a bargain than a curse.”

Pierce lifted his chin, not caring for her petty semantics. “A mere few notes raised him from the dead. Can you imagine what will happen if he plays a song on it?”

Certainly she could. Destruction. Chaos. Beneath rising. Probably Nicolo and Himself getting together for a good ole father-son reunion. Diabolic magic would abound. Things would go wild. People would probably get hurt. Should she tell the director he was Himself's son?

“Exactly,” Ethan said. “He has to be contained.”

“For how long? He's a living, breathing person. It's not as if we can cage him up forever.”

Ethan's raised brow alluded that perhaps that wasn't such a ridiculous suggestion.

Summer leaned forward, hands clutching the chair arms. “Don't tell me Acquisitions has imprisoned people?”

“We do what is necessary to prevent chaos.”

“Nicolo is not chaos.”

“Nicolo?”

She looked down at her hands and slumped back against the chair. Oops. That had been a little too much information.

“Have you had sex with him?”

“What? What kind of question is that? I just found him a few days ago.”

A tilt of his head and he delivered the classic stern father's reprimand. And Summer felt it as an admonishing wag of the finger.

“What does it matter if we've had sex?” she tried to save her humiliation. “The man is not a danger to innocents. I can vouch for that.”

“And what are you going to do with him? Babysit him? Start dating? Keep him from the violin for decades? Aeons? It's not a task I believe you are up for, Santiago.”

Thanks for the vote of confidence. Not. And she could date whomever she wanted to date. This man could not tell her otherwise. But the issue wasn't about her relationship with Nicolo Paganini. It was about what he was or could become.

“We can destroy the violin, and then he'll be free of its whispers,” she offered.

“Whispers?”

Shoot. “He says it whispers to him. I heard it myself when I first located it. It's not any language I've ever heard. I suspect it's...” She shouldn't have brought that up.

“Summer, you know what that is. If it's been cursed by the devil—”

“Yes, the whispers are likely demonic.”

“Diabolical,” Ethan corrected.

“Sure. But all we have to do is destroy the violin to set him free of those whispers. I'm sure of it.”

Ethan sat back in his chair. She suspected he was pondering her suggestion. She hoped he was. Nicolo needed a chance. To be free from the violin. And from there he could start a new life. With her. Perhaps even play the professional circuit again. And she wanted to help him with that.

Her feelings toward him aside, he did not deserve death. No job was worth that to her.

“Summer, I'm sorry.”

She wasn't going to like what came next.

“As the director of Acquisitions it would go against protocol to allow the man to remain free. He presents a danger to any and all.”

“But after the violin is destroyed?”

“Why would we destroy such valuable magic?”

“What? But— It's the darkest magic there is. It's diabolic! It's the devil Him—” She paused when Ethan put up a hand.

“You've stepped out of line, Santiago. You will be reprimanded severely if you do not turn over Nicolo Paganini.”

Summer sat back in the chair. Her legs wobbled, and she slapped a hand onto her knee. “I don't know where he is.”

“I thought you were just with him?”

State the obvious then?

“If CJ's binding spell has depleted, I'm sure he took off. Paris is new to him. He has no way to navigate the twenty-first century.”

“Then you have a new mission. Find Paganini. I'll give you until tomorrow morning to bring him in. If you do not, you will be taken into custody until we can solve the dilemma of the undead musician. That is all.”

Mouth hanging agape, she didn't rise. Taken into custody? For what? Refusing to imprison an innocent man? What kind of organization was this? Okay, a secretive one maintained to keep order. No matter the emotional cost.

Emotional?

No, she would not go dramatic on the guy. It wasn't her style. She was strong. And she always followed orders.

“You may leave, Santiago.”

Standing, she quickly exited, fists balled near her thighs. She raced through the scanner and out the door that opened into a long underground hallway that twisted and finally ascended two flights of stairs to the surface. She stepped out onto cobblestones, deep in the 11th arrondissement. Only then did she let out a frustrated shout and punch the air with her fists.

Following orders had never felt so wrong to her before. And caring about someone took a lot more out of her than she'd expected. Was that a tear wobbling in the corner of her eye?

She swiped a fist aside her eye. She was acting like a stupid girl.

* * *

The house was cool and shadowed. Summer returned just before noon. She didn't expect to find Nicolo because he probably had no idea where to find the place. Had she lost him? She needed to train him on the witchbox. And make sure he was still here.
In her life
. She needed a hug from him, actually.

She got out of the car and strode into the kitchen, where the new iPhone sat on the counter. The store had set up an account for him on her tab and given him an email so he was ready to go.

A breeze from a window fluttered through her hair. She smiled at that, then realized—the only window that ever opened far enough and was positioned to get a breeze was the one between her bedroom and the shower. Turning, she spied Nicolo standing by the window, arms across his chest and head bowed. His silhouette entertained a regalness that made her gasp.

He smiled at her. Extended his hand for her to take. So she did. And he pulled her into a hug that surprised as much as it released her apprehensions. He was still here. In her life.

“I am sorry,” he said. “It was the violin making me act so cruelly toward you.”

“I know that. Don't worry about it. I'm good.” If not a little emotionally off balance. Why did she have to care about him?

“Did you get sacked?”

“I'm under evaluation. The director insists I bring you to him for safekeeping.”

He pulled back and stroked a dash of hair from her eye. “Safekeeping?”

“I assume that means in a cage in a dark dungeon. I had no idea that Acquisitions secured living beings, but the director alluded there may be others in captivity. Dark, dangerous beings.”

His eyes found hers, and in them she found a welcome place in which she wanted to stay. “Am I so dark and dangerous?”

“You're dark.” She stroked his hair. “Mysterious. Sexy. A man out of time. But I don't think you're a danger to me. Or others, for that matter. At least not...yet.”

He raised a brow, but didn't need to question that one. They both knew his future balanced on a violin string.

“And did you hear when CJ said you don't have a soul?”

He nodded. “I've been thinking about that. Does the devil have a soul? Perhaps when I rose from the dead I returned soulless? But what does that imply?”

“I'm not sure, but it may be why I can bite you without you going mad. That's a good thing.”

“That's a very good thing.” But his expression did not match the positive statement.

“I'm not going to turn you in, Nicolo.”

“But your job...?”

“It means nothing to me if it requires I harm an innocent man. I think if I can destroy the violin then you'll be safe from its wicked control over you.”

“And how did that go the first time you crushed and buried it?”

She sighed and dropped her head against his shoulder. His hair smelled great. She wanted to twine herself within it and snuggle there. Forget the world. Just...be.

Kissing his neck, she nuzzled into his skin, drawing in a deep breath. She noticed the bite mark and tapped it. Should take a couple days to heal completely.

“Were you marking your territory?” he asked.

“Yes.” But she sighed, despite his light tone. Because it was forced. They were both attempting to walk around the huge elephant in the room. “I've been given until tomorrow morning to bring you in.”

“Then you must.”

“No. I'll figure something out.”

“Indeed. Then we must create a plan.” He smoothed a hand down her back. “They've taken the violin into custody. With no intention to destroy it?”

She shook her head. “Surprises the hell out of me. Then again, I imagine the Archives is a dark and foreboding place.”

“Can a person simply walk in and out of that building with it?”

“Probably not. CJ has warded it securely this time.”

“That witch's magic is powerful. It hurt.”

“I'm so sorry. But you shouldn't have followed me.”

“I was lured by the whispers.”

“Right. Which means we have to act fast before you are unable to resist. I might pay CJ a visit in the Archives to see that he's properly stored the violin. Get the layout of the place.”

“So we can then break in? Do you think you, a vampire, have the skills to stand against one so powerful as the dark witch?”

“Stop stating the obvious. I just want to keep you safe. Is that so wrong?”

“It's rather sweet. I think you favor me.”

“I do favor you.”

“And I you. But you mustn't think I will stand aside and allow you to do the protecting. I am the man. I will take care of you. And in the process, myself.”

“Sounds good to me. So let's figure this out.”

* * *

Summer sat at the counter, talking on the witchbox with various friends. People, she told Nicolo, who could help their situation. She'd given him what she'd termed a crash course in using the witchbox. He understood the GPS app. And the book of face app intrigued him. Summer told him she'd set up an account for him later, after he'd established himself with a new name. (Though he still didn't understand what an
app
implied.) And she put her contact number in so they could communicate. She'd called him, and it had been oddly remarkable to hear her voice in the little box. But more remarkable? She'd fixed the ringer to play the first notes from his
Caprice No. 5
.

Now he studied the violet violin, running his forefinger along the inner curve, finding he favored the unique, fantastical design. Why
not
make changes to the traditional wood instrument? This one was not only visually appealing, but it also put out incredible sound. If he had the money he would buy it from the owner. Alas, he needed to find work.