Dead Rising (6 page)

“Thank you.” I had to change the topic of conversation and quick. “So… how about those Orioles? Think they’ll make it to the World Series this year, or what?”

“They’re already out of the playoffs. So why are you not a Knight? Why are you living in a cheap apartment in Fells Point and not off playing polo or guarding the Temple?”

That stung. I suddenly saw us through his eyes, wealthy and entitled people who held themselves apart from the masses and kept to themselves. If I was honest though, that was what
I
saw when I looked at my Order. We’d fallen so far from the Knights we’d been hundreds of years ago. But none of that meant I was going to side with a vampire against my own family. “I’m on an extended course of study. Super-duper top secret. I’d tell you about it, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“So secret that you go around flirting with vampires in pubs, that you walk around with your Templar tattoo openly displayed? Come on, Aria, any extended course of study could be taken
after
your Oath. Why are you not a Knight?”

Flirting? I hadn’t been flirting! “I think that you misread my intentions. I’m not interested in you that way. You aren’t going to ever drink my blood, or do anything else with me, so get over the idea that I’ve been flirting with you.”

I knew my face was as red as the marinara on the guy’s plate at the table next to us. Oh sheesh, Dario
was
hot and I
was
tempted… but he was a vampire.

And I was a Templar.

“This hot and cold routine of yours sorely tests my willpower, Aria. I’ve never met a Templar before, and I’ll admit I’m intrigued. Forbidden fruit is always tempting. But you know that, don’t you?”

His voice had that soft note in its depths again. My eyes went to his lips and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. He was accusing me of teasing. Was I? Had I been? No. The Bloody Marys and notes might have been construed as flirtatious, but I hadn’t meant that. I’d never done anything to let him think I was remotely interested in having him in my bed—or his fangs in my neck.

Liar
. My pulsed raced and Dario’s gaze went to my throat. He was good-looking, sexy, and he was right—something in me loved to play with the forbidden. Play. Not have. I
had
been teasing.

“Sorry. I didn’t meant to lead you on like that.” My voice sounded as though I’d not had a drink of water in days. His eyes darkened.

“If you were human, I would have taken you months ago and locked you in my house to be my blood slave. Every night I’d arise to claim you as mine. I’d leave you in the morning so weak you could hardly stand.”

Why did that sound so hot? Oh. My. God.

“But I
am
human.” Why did I say
that
? It was as if I
wanted
him to carry me off. I knew what happened to blood slaves. It wasn’t pretty, and it was a life usually measured in weeks. Or months if your master had a decent measure of restraint.

“Yes, but unlike most humans
you
are a Templar. We vampires might outnumber you thousands to one, but Templars have access to a storehouse of weapons. I don’t ever wish to be on the business end of any of those weapons.”

The Temple. We were forbidden from using any of the artifacts. We were only to catalog them, to keep them safe. But…yes, we did have access to magical items that could level the world and destroy pretty much any being alive or dead. Still, if the threat of weapons in the Temple was the only thing that held him back, those tethers were gossamer thin. No Templar would break their vow and remove
anything
from the Temple.

Dario gave me a wry smile and reached out a finger to trace the column of my neck. “I remember enough of my lost humanity to know how a parent feels when their daughter is threatened. Truce or not, your father would unleash the hounds of hell if he thought I harmed one hair on your head.”

Not true. It was my mother he needed to fear. Dad would tell her which hounds to use, and she’d come to my rescue like a Valkyrie on the warpath. Lately our relationship had been rocky at best. She never missed an opportunity to remind me of what a disappointment I’d been, but if the shit hit the fan, she’d not hesitate to give her life in my defense. Or in vengeance.

“Even so.” Dario stoked the pulse that beat in my neck, his voice husky. “Even so, I might find death by some ancient weapon worth the risk. Immortality is but a punishment if one does not take the very things which make one feel alive. So be careful, Aria. I have lost control in the past, and that was nothing compared to the very primal urges I feel right now.”

I couldn’t breathe. Even after he took his hand from my neck and turned his gaze from mine, I still couldn’t breathe. At that moment, nothing seemed to appeal more than throwing my life aside for a brief existence of servitude to a vampire—
this
vampire.

His eyes locked on mine once again as he sipped from the wine glass. The red Chianti reminded me of blood and I curled my fingers against the table.

“Why didn’t you take your Oath, Aria?”

The words didn’t sway me as much as his dark eyes and seductive tone. I was in trouble, serious trouble, with this vampire.
Snap out of it, Aria
. “I didn’t want to. I may never want to. And that makes living with my family or with other Templars kind of uncomfortable.”

So much for not answering his question. Dario looked oddly pleased with himself. I wasn’t pleased—either with him or with myself. Some shitty Templar I was, giving in with a few sips of wine and sexy-vampire talk. Lord forbid I ever face serious interrogation. I’d fold like wet cardboard, especially if I had a decent glass of wine in my hand and a hot guy within half a mile.

“What was it like, growing up a Templar?”

I gulped down half of my wine. Might as well have something to blame all this on besides my hormones and lack of willpower. “It was pretty much like any other childhood. Well, except for training in swordplay and practicing protective blessings since the age of six.”

“So …soccer, birthday parties with bounce houses, and summer vacations at Disney World?”

I snorted and drained the rest of my wine. “Uh, no. No birthday parties, vacations were in France and Italy studying art history, and our sporting events were equestrian activities. It’s critical that we be skilled in riding, just in case we needed to throw on some plate mail and thunder across the fields of battle on our charger.”

He smiled. I actually got a vampire to smile—
this
vampire. Score one for me.

“So what was
your
childhood like?” The moment I asked I could have kicked myself. He was a vampire. His childhood was probably in the eleventh century.

The smile faded. “I don’t really remember my childhood. I’m fairly sure it didn’t include art history or equestrian activities, though.”

Where was that wine? I grabbed the bottle and filled my glass, taking another gulp.

He toyed with his glass, long fingers caressing the edge. “I
can
tell you what it’s like to be a vampire. Since you’ve been so forthcoming about your life.”

I set down the wine. “I’d like that.”

“Okay.” Dario set his wine aside and leaned forward, both arms on the table. “I was turned in Haiti and brought to what is now Florida. I remained there with my Master and
Balaj
until a rival clan forced us out. We made our way north until we found a territory we felt we could take.”

“Baltimore?”

He nodded. “We’ve been here ever since, about two hundred years, give or take a few decades.”

“But you mentioned a Master. Leonora didn’t turn you?”

“Thirty years ago my Master and Maker was killed. Leonora took over the
Balaj
as Mistress at that point.”

Holy cow. “Who killed him?”

I wasn’t aware of any Templar sanctioned purges in this century, and vampires didn’t like to leave their territory. I felt somewhat guilty about my prying but I was dying of curiosity. Yeah, I know, I had no problem asking a vampire about his resistance to garlic and his legendary ability to turn into a bat and fly, but I was uncomfortable that I’d asked him who killed his Master.

He shifted in his seat, rolling the stem of the wineglass with his long fingers. “That is not something I will share with you. I’ve told you enough already about us. It’s time to change the subject.”

Really? I think not after his seduction routine earlier. If he could dig for info on me, then I could do the same. “Leonora is your sister?”

He scowled. “Blood sister. She was turned long before I was. Have you made any progress on identifying the symbol? I saw that you were researching tonight.”

I ignored the question and concentrated on the information. Haiti. Dario had probably been a slave before he was turned, but Leonora was white. Had their Master been a plantation owner, or a vampire immigrant from one of the European families, coming to a new world in search of territory and the opportunity to begin a family of his own? It wouldn’t have been an easy journey, crossing the Atlantic with a severe sensitivity toward sunlight. Modern nonstop airline travel made things so much easier for vampires than a lengthy journey via boat.

Did vampires swim? Or sink? And if they didn’t need to breathe, what happened if they sank?

But another question took priority. “You’ve told me your timeline. You still haven’t told me what it’s like to be a vampire.”

The waiter arrived with our salads, and by the time he’d offered us cracked pepper and freshly shaved parmesan, I figured the moment had passed and we’d be off to another topic of conversation. I ate a few bites of the salad, reveling in the taste of fresh vegetables. I was probably on the verge of malnutrition from my cheap-food diet the last few months. This was heaven.

“Hunger.”

I halted the fork halfway to my mouth, thinking for a second about my own hunger before I realized Dario was referring to a very specific vampire hunger.

“It never ends. Never.” His voice was dark and husky as his eyes met mine. “You learn to push it to the back of your mind, to control your response so you don’t turn into a feral killing machine, but it’s always there. Every waking moment. Sometimes when sunrise comes, you welcome the oblivion of sleep because it’s the only time you don’t feel the hunger.”

The fork still hovered midway between the table and my mouth. That…that didn’t sound fun. I wasn’t sure what to say. What
do
you say to that sort of revelation? No wonder he didn’t smile.

“Everything else is secondary. Families are bonded together due to our maker, but it’s the hunger that truly ties us.” His eyes darkened. Before I could take another breath, his hand was gripping my wrist, the fork bouncing into my salad bowl. “There are things I want, things I remember, but the hunger overtakes all other desires.”

Total appetite killer. Now instead of crispy vegetables I was thinking of death by exsanguination and Dario’s fingers digging into the skin of my wrist. I felt a warmth, a burning heat. The vampire grimaced but held on for a few seconds before letting go. I saw the blisters on his fingers, watched them heal before my eyes.

“It’s spelled,” I explained, fingering my cross tattoo. “Adrenaline activated.” Which didn’t normally do anything but make my wrist hot while in traffic or base jumping. What idiot thought this was a good idea I didn’t know, but I was rather appreciative for the spell at this particular moment.

He grimaced, shaking his fingers as if the healed wounds still pained him. “I’ll remember to grab your left wrist next time.”

“Or some other part of me,” I joked, picking up my fork again. Sheesh, even after our conversation I couldn’t help but tease this guy. I must truly have a death wish.

We ate in silence for a while. By the time our entrees had arrived I’d worked up the nerve to continue my interrogation.

“So, as you noticed, I’ve started my research on the symbol and it appears to be related to summoning dead spirits.”

That didn’t elicit any particular response from Dario, but given his normal lack of facial expressions, I wasn’t surprised.

He toyed with his ravioli before speaking. “Have you determined exactly what it does?”

I scarfed down a few bites of my Lobster Alfredo. It smelled amazing, and tasted even better. If only I could eat this every night. “No. But I’m curious to know why your Mistress is wanting information on a symbol used in necromantic magic.”

“Consider it a precautionary measure.”

I waited, taking the opportunity to eat more of my pasta, but Dario didn’t elaborate. “Why? Surely you guys don’t run around checking graffiti all over the city just in case it’s magical in nature. What happened for Leonora to think this symbol was so important that she needed to bring in a Templar?”

There was a moment of frosty silence before he replied. “You don’t need to know that. Tell us about the symbol and you get paid. That’s our deal.”

Suddenly my food tasted like sawdust. “But the background will help me in finding out the rest of the details on the symbol. If you want a thorough report, I really need to know.”

“It’s not your business.”

Stupid, stubborn vampire. “It
is
my business, and not just because I’m doing this job for you. If there’s something going down in my city involving necromancy, I need to know about it. How the heck did Leonora come across this symbol and why does she need to know about it?”

His fingers tightened on the fork. “Those would be a question for Leonora, not me.”

“She’s not here. You are. This is important and I need to know.”

His eyes darkened. Suddenly he wasn’t that cute vampire I’d been pestering with drinks and annoying questions anymore. He was a powerful being who could end me right here, or in the parking lot behind the restaurant.

“You will drop this line of questioning right now.”

I felt like all the blood had dropped right out of my body. I’d seen Dario emotionless. I’d seen him intense and sexy. I’d never seen him like this. What was this “date” about? I knew he wanted me, or at least my blood. Right now, he didn’t even seem interested in that.

“Why are we here?” I waved a hand to the side. “Here. In the restaurant together eating pasta and drinking wine?”