Everlasting Embrace Page 5

  “Boston,” Alex muttered. Eduardo Tietjen had lived in Boston. Alex lived in Boston. Of course, it could be just a coincidence that this vampire was from the same place, but Alex didn’t believe in coincidence.

  He shoved the license into his pants pocket, then stood there, debating what to do. Ordinarily, he would have taken the vamp’s head, but he had left his blade in the car. Not that it mattered. Beheading a corpse on the street would leave a hell of a mess behind.

  Hoisting the body over his shoulder, he walked quickly down the sidewalk. He made a sharp left onto a side street and dumped the body, with the stake still lodged in its chest, under a hedge, and hoped the sun would find the corpse before the cops did.

  He was about a block away from the Roosevelt when Rhys fell into step beside him.

  “Dammit, man!” Alex exclaimed. “Don’t do that!”

  “You’re out late,” Rhys said. His voice was mild, but Alex didn’t miss the layer of steel underneath.

  “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”

  Rhys lifted his head and sniffed the air. “There’s blood on your hands, and it isn’t yours.”

  Keeping his face impassive, Alex wiped his palms on his jeans.

  “You killed one of us.”

  “How the hell do you know that?”

  “How the hell do you think?”

  “Oh.” There was no hiding his thoughts or his actions from the Master of the City, not since they had shared blood. “Was he one of yours?”

  “No, fortunately for you.”

  There was no anger in Costain’s voice, no threat, but fear twisted Alex’s gut.

  “Who was it?” Rhys asked.

  “I don’t know.” Alex pulled the vamp’s driver’s license from his pocket and offered it to Rhys.

  “Giordano,” Rhys murmured. “Whoever’s looking for you has a long reach.”

  Alex nodded.

  “You might want to find another hotel,” Rhys suggested. “And sign in under another name.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Rhys twitched one shoulder. “I’ve heard of Giordano. He was turned five or ten years ago. Before that, he was a hit man for the mob in New York.”

  Alex came to an abrupt stop. “The mob!” Good Lord, what had he gotten himself mixed up in now?

  “He’s not connected anymore,” Rhys said. “He faked his death when he was turned.”

  “So, what’s his connection to Tietjen?”

  “Maybe there isn’t one.”

  “Yeah, that’s why you told me to find a new place to stay.”

  “Better safe than sorry. Maybe you should move in with me for a while.”

  “Out of the frying pan,” Alex muttered as they reached his hotel.

  “I can stay at the club if that’ll help you sleep better.”

  “Thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that.”

  Alex left Rhys waiting outside while he returned to his room to pack. He wasn’t sure moving into the vampire’s lair was such a great idea, but he’d be safe as houses there.

  After checking to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind, Alex took the elevator to the lobby, paid his bill, then headed for the garage to get his car.

  Rhys was waiting by the curb when Alex pulled up in front of the Roosevelt. The vampire snorted contemptuously when he opened the door to a rather run-down Chevy and slid into the passenger seat. “Maybe you should drive my car, too.”

  “Hey, this was the only rental they had.”

  “Do you want to drive this, or my Jag?”

  “Are you serious? You’d let me drive your Jag?”

  “Only if you’re insured.”

  Alex pulled away from the curb, then glanced at Rhys. “All right, why are you being so generous?”

  “You gave me your blood when I needed it. Your sister is married to my best friend. And a vampire I don’t know attacked you in my city.” Rhys slid him an amused glance. “I can throw you out of L.A. if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Rhys gave Alex directions to his lair, and a short time later, Alex pulled up in front of a tall, glass-fronted building.

  “Park this heap in the garage,” Rhys said. “It’s an embarrassment to the neighborhood.”

  With a grimace, Alex drove down the ramp to the underground garage.

  “Pull in there,” Rhys said, jerking his thumb at an empty space adjacent to the stall where his smoke-gray Jag was parked.

  Getting out of the car, Alex grabbed his suitcase from the back seat, then followed Rhys to an iron-barred door located across from the Jag. Rhys unlocked the door and stepped inside. Overhead lights came on when he crossed the threshold.

  Alex glanced around as they walked down a wide corridor inlaid with black and white tiles to a bank of elevators. It was, he thought morbidly, quiet as a tomb.

  He knew a moment of uneasiness when he followed Rhys onto the elevator. What the hell was he doing here, in the middle of the night, with the Master of the City?

  Beside him, Rhys chuckled. “Too late to turn back now.”

  “Very funny.”

  When they reached the tenth floor, they took a private elevator up to the eleventh. Moments later, the elevator opened, revealing yet another door, this one made of what looked like solid steel.

  “Here we are,” Rhys announced, sliding his key into the lock. “Home, sweet home.”

  “You’re a regular laugh riot,” Alex said.

  Entering behind him, Rhys flicked on the lights. “Bedroom’s in there,” he said, gesturing toward a door to Alex’s right.

  With a nod, Alex stepped into biggest, most outlandish bedroom he had ever seen, and that included the orange horror of the guest room in Erik’s house. The walls here were papered in a dark red similar to that in Costain’s bar. The carpets and the heavy drapes over the windows were the same shade. A thick black quilt covered an enormous bed; a black stone fireplace took up one entire wall; a floor-to-ceiling TV screen took up another. There were more paintings in here. Alex figured they were probably originals, like the Botticelli in the living room. A curio cabinet held a number of figurines in varying sizes—all depicting demons, dragons, or vampires stalking their prey.

  “What are you running here?” Alex asked with a wry grin. “A brothel?”

  “I guess it is a little over the top,” Rhys said, coming up behind him. “But I don’t spend much time here since I met Megan. Still, she’s anxious to redecorate.”

  “Gee, I can’t imagine why,” Alex remarked, dropping his suitcase on the foot of the bed. “Are you still living at her place?”

  “For another month or so. We bought a house up the coast in Granite Hills just outside Frisco. It needs some major renovations, if you know what I mean.”

  Major renovations undoubtedly included installing state-of-the-art vampire security, Alex thought.

  “Well, make yourself at home,” Rhys said. “I’ll be at the club if you need me. The keys to the Jag are on the mantel.”

  “All right.” Alex took a deep breath. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rhys muttered, and then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished in a swirl of sparkling silver motes.

  Alex shook his head, amused to find himself holed up in the lair of a vampire he had once sought to destroy.

  Life didn’t get any weirder than that.

  It was a little after four in the afternoon the following day when Alex pulled out of the penthouse garage. He had to admit, the vampire’s apartment had every creature comfort you could ask for—the TV was the best money could buy, the furniture and carpets were top of the line. Alex had enjoyed the best night’s sleep he’d ever had in that big bed. The shower was large enough for two. Or three. The only thing missing was a well-stocked kitchen.

  Driving down Hollywood Boulevard, Alex’s thoughts turned toward Rylee. He wasn’t sure what to make of their friendship, or where it was headed. It was tenuous at best. They’d made no plans to meet when she got back from Frisc
o, he mused as he pulled into the parking lot of the first restaurant he saw.

  Inside, he took a seat in the back. There were only a handful of customers in the place, but then, he’d missed the lunch crowd and it was still a little early for dinner. After the waitress took his order—steak and eggs and coffee—he pulled out his cell phone and did a search of known vampires in the area. There weren’t many, and there were no addresses for those who were listed.

  It was just as well, he thought, as he tucked into his meal a few minutes later. Rhys had warned him, not too subtly, not to hunt in his territory.

  Thinking of vampires brought Giordano to mind. Had he been sent by the vampire who killed Paula? Looking back on what had happened in the clear light of day, it seemed unlikely.

  No one but his parents knew where he was. He had no ties to the bloodsucker who had killed his wife. And even if she—or he—had his scent, it was impossible to track him across thousands of miles. Wasn’t it?

  He frowned, thinking it wouldn’t surprise him if Rhys could manage it. But then, the Master of the West Coast Vampires was a law unto himself.

  Alex signed the check, added a hefty tip for the waitress, and left the restaurant. With nothing better to do, he hopped in the Jag and drove along the coastline.

  It surprised him how much he missed Rylee. He hardly knew her, yet she was constantly in his thoughts. What would she think if he told her about his past, about his vow to avenge Paula? Would she be horrified to know how he earned his living? Intrigued? Repulsed? Would she even believe him? What would she think if he introduced her to Daisy and Erik? Most people didn’t believe in vampires.

  He drove from Hollywood down to San Diego, stopped to buy a cup of coffee and a hamburger, then turned around and headed back.

  It was a little after ten when he reached West Hollywood. He pulled up in front of Costain’s lair, then pulled away from the curb and drove to La Mort Rouge.

  Rhys glanced over his shoulder when Alex entered the club. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you’d stolen my Jag and left town.”

  Alex frowned as he took his customary stool beside Costain. “How’d you know I was gone? Weren’t you lost in the dark sleep of your kind?”

  “Awake or asleep, I will always know where you are.”

  Alex stared at Costain. That was a disconcerting thought if he’d ever heard one.

  CHAPTER 9

  Alex woke early Tuesday afternoon, his first thought, as always, for Rylee. He hadn’t seen her since last Wednesday. Six days ago, he thought glumly. They been the longest six days of his life.

  Throwing back the covers, he headed for the bathroom where he took a quick shower, then pulled on jeans and a shirt and stomped into his boots. He was sleeping later every day, he mused as he ran a comb through his hair. Not surprising, since he’d been hanging out at La Mort Rouge with Rhys until the wee small hours of the morning.

  Alex dragged a hand across his jaw. He was living like a vampire. Maybe it was time to go home. He glanced around the bedroom, thinking he’d miss hanging out in Costain’s lair. The place was decadent and he loved it.

  Grabbing the keys to the Jag, he made his way down to the garage. He was going to miss driving the Jag if he left L.A., he thought as he slid behind the wheel and listened to the engine purr to life. But more than the car, he was going to miss Rylee.

  He’d had no destination in mind when he pulled out of the garage, but, somehow, he found himself pulling into the Java Hut’s parking lot.

  After taking a table near the window, he ordered ham and eggs and pancakes for breakfast even though it was way past time for lunch, then leaned back, coffee cup in hand, and chided himself for being a fool.

  He had finished the ham and eggs and was halfway through the stack of pancakes when Rylee walked in looking cute as hell in a pair of cut-off jeans, sneakers, and a blue t-shirt. The shirt had a picture of a Milky Way candy bar on it and beneath the graphic were the words, Save the Earth—It’s the Only Planet With Chocolate.

  She started toward an empty table near where he was sitting, smiled uncertainly when she saw him.

  And he knew in that moment that there was no sense in fighting it. He was crazy about her. He waved her over, felt a warm rush of relief when her smile grew wider. Hurrying toward him, she sank into the chair across from his.

  “You’re back early,” he said. “What happened?”

  “I missed you.”

  They were, he thought, the sweetest words he’d ever heard.

  Alex couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t ignore how her presence made the day brighter, warmer, happier. Damn, he felt like some horny kid in love for the first time. And in light of his current situation, that was just wrong. But, wrong or not, he couldn’t deny how he felt.

  He sat back in his chair as the waitress came to take Rylee’s order. “Are you finished, sir?” she asked, gesturing at his plate.

  “Yes. Could I get another cup of coffee?” He smiled at Rylee as the waitress left to turn in her order. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

  “I’m going to drive up the coast to see if I can find some sea lions.”

  “Are they lost?”

  She made a face at him. “No, silly. I’m doing some shots for a Greenpeace calendar.”

  “Oh. Well, you’ve got a nice day for it.”

  “I got some great shots of a couple of bottlenose dolphins on my way home on Sunday.”

  Alex nodded. Now that she was here, he’d hoped to spend some time with her, but she obviously had other plans for the day.

  “If you’re not doing anything, you’re welcome to come along.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Great.”

  Funny how just being with Rylee made everything seem possible.

  They made small talk while they ate. Alex overrode her objections when he insisted on paying for her lunch.

  As they left the restaurant, he suggested they take his car.

  “But my camera gear is in mine,” Rylee pointed out.

  “Yeah, but my car’s a smoke-gray Jag XKR that can do zero to sixty in less than six seconds, and I’m dyin’ to drive it again.”

  “All right,” Rylee said with a good-natured grin. “You win!”

  After they transferred her gear and an old blanket to the Jag, they were on their way.

  “This is really nice,” Rylee said, running her hands over the leather upholstery. “I’ve never ridden in a Jag before.”

  “It’s a beaut,” he agreed. “I wish it was mine.”

  “Whose is it?” she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

  “Belongs to a guy I know.”

  “He must be a heck of a good friend to let your borrow it. And rich, too.”

  Alex shrugged. He wasn’t sure he’d call The Master of the City a friend, but he wasn’t about to tell her the truth about Costain.

  “And a trusting one,” Rylee remarked. “If I had a car like this, I’m not sure I’d lend it to my best friend or anyone else.”

  “If anything happens to this one, he’ll just buy another.”

  “He must be really rich. What does a car like this cost?”

  “I don’t know. Somewhere around a hundred grand, I’m guessing.”

  “Wow. Must be nice,” she muttered.

  “Yeah.” Not that he was poor, Alex thought. He made good money as a hunter, but he would have to live a long time and take a lot of heads before he could come close to having the amount of money Costain had accumulated in the last five hundred years.

  He switched on the radio, found a station that played mostly oldies, and grinned when Rylee started singing along to “Walking on Sunshine.” She had a nice, clear voice. She seemed to be having such a good time, Alex decided to join in.

  They both burst out laughing when the song ended.

  “We make a nice duo,” she remarked.

  “Yeah, as long as the radio is loud and no one else is listening.”

  She punc
hed him on the arm. “Come on, we weren’t that bad.”

  “Well, you weren’t. How far up the coast are we going?”

  “Hobson Beach.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Well, it’s not really much of a beach. It’s off the highway and you have to climb over a lot of rocks to get to the sand. And that’s pretty much under water when the tide comes in.”

  “And you like it why?”

  “We used to go camping there every summer when I was a kid. A dead whale washed up on the beach a few years ago. That was really something to see. There was a little girl on the beach with her dad. She was only four or five years old and she started crying when some of the whale’s blood got on her tennis shoes.” Rylee laughed at the memory. “She didn’t like the smell, either. Can’t say as I blamed her. It was nasty. I got some great pictures, though. A couple of them appeared in the local paper.”

  Alex glanced at her, one brow raised. “I hope you’re not gonna use the dead whale photos in the calendar.”

  “Of course not! Still, it was an awesome sight. You see whales in movies and aquariums, but until you stand next to one, you don’t realize just how big they really are. The one that washed ashore was a blue whale about seventy feet long.”

  “What killed it?”

  “They think it was hit by a ship.”

  “I guess it happens.” He could see the ocean now, a vast expanse of quiet blue-green water that stretched away to the horizon.

  “We’re here,” Rylee said, pointing at the upcoming off-ramp. “Turn there.”

  It wasn’t much of a campsite—a small store, a couple of restrooms, an outdoor shower where you could rinse off your feet, a small grassy area near the end of the road. Huge boulders separated the campsites from the ocean below. Alex saw several squirrels scurrying around in the rocky crevasses.

  He parked the Jag, helped Rylee with her camera cases, then locked the car.

  He followed her up a set of stone steps and down the other side. The tide was out and they walked along the shore. Beach houses lined the street above the campground.

  Rylee found a place she liked and Alex spread the blanket on the sand, then sat down, wishing he’d brought a pair of trunks and a surfboard. Rylee sat beside him with her knees drawn up as she gazed out at the water.