Dalton, Tymber - Love and Brimstone [Brimstone Vampires 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (24 page)

“Is this where we have the action montage sequence of me doing the kick-ass ninja-slayer training so I can handle evil bad things?”

He looked at her strangely.

“You never watched
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
on TV, did you?”

“No. But I heard it received quite a bit of critical praise for the writing. Too bad the facts were totally wrong.”

“Well, I got my black belt in karate because of that show. I wanted to be like Buffy.” Taz sighed. “How was I supposed to know it was life imitating art? Sort of.”

He smirked. “Matthias had a fit when Tim reported that. He was afraid you’d get hurt, or hurt someone. Once I convinced him you having those skills could only help, he settled down.”

“Back to the brimstone.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, as you are well aware by now, there is nothing evil or supernatural about what we are. It’s a physical condition, like any other genetic anomaly.”

“But you just said vampires are paranormal.” She rubbed her temples. “And that there are other paranormal breeds. You’re making my head hurt.”

“Paranormal, meaning outside the realm of the normal. By supernatural, I mean those silly, old Hollywood myths. There are legitimate explanations for what we are and what we can do that science just hasn’t caught up with yet. And explanations for the other ‘creatures’ out there as well.”

She stared at him. “You’re really nitpicky about semantics, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure people would argue with you about us not being supernatural.”

“Probably. But the truth is, we are not much different from ‘normal’ humans.”

“Only we tend to live a long time, have freaky powers of quick healing, can sometimes read each other’s thoughts, and drink blood,” she snarked.

“We don’t drink blood.”

“Usually.”

He sighed. “We don’t need to feed on blood to stay alive. But I’ll concede the point. Yes, sometimes, we drink blood.”

“That doesn’t explain the Others.”

“Did you know they are still discovering new species of creatures in the oceans and in rain forests, in both South America and Indonesia? Animals and plants never before known to science. Just in the past few years. If there was an intelligent species that wished to remain in the shadows, don’t you think they could accomplish it? Especially when they were fervently persecuted throughout most of history?”

She considered it. “Werewolves, huh?”

“Not really. There are breeds of shape-shifters out there, but like us, they are more interested in not being discovered than they are causing trouble. The Others, however, have a chip on their shoulder. They have for centuries. And while it’s easy for the Clans and most other types of paranormals to blend in and go undetected, it’s not so easy for the Others.”

“What are they?”

“They don’t usually hang around long enough to have that discussion. Most of the time they keep to themselves and don’t interact with humans outside their groups. Some of them can transform like shape-shifters, or so we’ve been told. But some of them are very nonhuman in their appearance and cannot shift.”

“I saw the head.” The thought of the dismembered head made her want to urp her breakfast. What had Matthias done with that, anyway? She hoped she didn’t open a freezer at the house and find it.

“That’s right—you did. But that’s just one form they have.”

She asked even though she didn’t want to. “Why did he take the head?”

“DNA. To track down its group. It was easier to take the head than to try to wrestle the whole body into the car. I was having a difficult enough time just getting Matthias loaded, as injured as he was.”

“It won’t turn into a human head and be waiting in the freezer for us, will it?”

“I doubt it. That was probably its true form anyway. Had it been a shape-shifter, it would have shifted when it died.”

“Area 51?”

He laughed. “Do I look like a Wikipedia of the Weird? Your guess is as good as mine. But I’ve personally seen a ghost.”

She stared across the geyser basin. Old Faithful still spouted steam occasionally, and in the distance, steam clouds puffed from other geysers in the chilly morning air.

“What else is there out there we don’t know about?”

“‘We’ meaning you and I and those like us, or ‘we’ meaning the rest of the world?”

“That.”

He paused, weighing his words. She sensed there was a lot of carefully concealed knowledge in that brain of his. “There are lots of unknowns, Anastazia, even to those like us. Most of the European lines managed to survive the worst of the Inquisition, the Plagues, the upheavals. Then World Wars I and II nearly killed the entire Eastern European Clan.”

“Couldn’t someone have done something?”

“And bring more attention to us? As it is, some of the greatest myths were written by those like us.”

“Really?”

“What better way to misdirect than create works of fiction? No one would believe it was real. Now there are so many people claiming to be ‘real’ vampires all over the world, and as you’ve seen, they’ve got it all wrong, that no one bats an eye about us anymore.”

“Ha-ha.”

He looked at her for a moment and smiled. “Yes, I get it. Bats. Ha-ha.”

“Except for science.”

“Ah, yes. That’s the true threat, now. There’s plenty of room for myths when blood can’t be analyzed under an electron microscope. That’s why it’s desperately important to identify all those like yourself and Matthias and bring them in from the cold, so to speak.”

“What about you?”

He shrugged and studied his hands. “I’m a hybrid. As is Tim. We have traits and certain talents, but our blood looks nearly normal. Normal enough. Which is why it was useless to heal Matthias.”

They sat for a long time, watching the geyser basin while she tried to collect her thoughts. “I don’t know why I’m taking it out on him,” she quietly admitted.

“I do. It’s understandable.”

She shook her head. “No it’s not. I’m not like this. I’m normally a controlled, rational person. I’m not like this at all. I don’t like being like this. I don’t like being a bitch.”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You love him.”

Her heart rolled.
Yes!

“Do I? Or is it just some sort of stupid vampire hypnosis infatuation?”

Albert looked at her, and she sensed a deep, timeless sadness in his heart.

“Kindred hearts sometimes take a while to find each other, my dear. And when they do, they are so much alike sometimes they fight before they realize they don’t need to. It’s fear. It’s normal. The soul always returns home, Anastazia. Never forget that. The heart knows what it knows, and the soul always returns home.”

There was something melancholy in his voice and manner, something deeper she sensed she didn’t want to explore right then—or shouldn’t. She opted for humor. “New World Order?”

“Doesn’t exist.” Damn, he was unflappable.

“Masons taking over the planet?”

“Only if the Shriners make enough of those funny clown cars for them.”

She laughed. Then something inside her turned loose, and she laughed until she cried and had to lean against his shoulder for support. He hesitantly put his arms around her then pulled her to him, let her cry against him. He was a lot like Robertson. It was almost as much a comfort having his arms around her. Protective.

Loving.

When she pulled herself together and sat up, sniffling, he handed her a handkerchief. He waited until she looked into his eyes, and she again felt there was more than he was telling her.

“Just give Matthias a chance,” he whispered. “That’s all he wants. He doesn’t expect you to do anything you don’t wish to do. Especially now that he owes you his life.”

Taz dried her eyes. “I don’t know what to think. I’m still sure I’m going to wake up in the hospital with Robertson telling me someone spiked my drink at a party and put me in a coma.”

Albert reached for her left hand and tenderly touched her wrist where the thin white scar bore mute testimony to what happened. “When you think that, take a look at this. You risked your life for him, Anastazia, without hesitation or thought for your own safety. Remember, the heart knows what it knows.”

Chapter Nineteen

Anastazia wanted to walk the boardwalk trail around the geyser basin. Albert glanced at his watch. “You’ve got time, but you have to take them with you.” He indicated the guards.

“You’re not coming?”

“This is one place we can almost guarantee you’re safe. And you’ll have them.”

“If I’m safe, why do I need Moe, Larry, and Curly?”

“Because Matthias refuses to take chances with your life.”

“I thought there were things you wanted me to work on.”

“There are.” He stood. “You’ll probably figure out at least one of them on your walk. We’ll talk later.” He glanced at the guards and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Do not look them in the eye. Please, do not compromise them. Your anger is not at them. It’s at Matthias. Don’t risk their lives.”

She felt odd but soon realized the guards blended in with the surroundings. Of course they would. They were trained to protect and serve and to become one with the wallpaper. They didn’t speak to her, and she didn’t try to make them uncomfortable by striking up conversations. She understood their orders and why they had to follow them.

She damn sure didn’t want to put them at physical risk.

The tallest one she dubbed Moe, and noticed that Larry, who had short, curly hair, and Curly, who was bald as a cue ball, hung behind a few steps. Moe walked beside her, just close enough the casual observer would think they were a couple. She took pictures of the geysers and stopped to watch a bison near the boardwalk. The men cautiously put themselves between her and the large animal. As she watched it looked up at her with huge brown eyes like deep pools.

“Walk away
,”
she thought to it.

Surprisingly, it turned and left. Maybe that was one of the “things” Albert referred to.

“Huh.” She’d have to ask Matthias about that later.

If he was speaking to her.

At one point she stopped and closed her eyes and inhaled. Crisp pine. Harsh sulfur. Now she placed Babson’s weird scent at the office before he attacked her—sulfur.

Her eyes flew open. Sweat.

She stole a glance at Curly, who was wearing a navy-blue jacket. The other two wore white windbreakers. Curly’s dark jacket absorbed the sun and made him hot. Around his neck and on his upper lip and forehead, small beads of perspiration glistened in the sun. He had to keep his jacket zipped to hide the gun he wore holstered under his left arm.

Gun oil. She could smell it. Two of them used the same brand, the third a different one.

Holy crap, I’ve got a super sniffer!

She walked in a daze, no longer looking, but smelling.

The boardwalk wound close to a stand of trees. She smelled something different and looked up to spot an osprey nest high in the branches above her.