Vampire Trouble (2 page)

Maya slammed her mind shut, preventing any further communication, which clearly annoyed Trixie. She flipped Maya the bird with a ring-studded hand and shook her head disapprovingly. Maya was so aggravated, she wanted to fly over there and yank Trixie's pink, spiked hair right out of her head. For a girl who looked like a punk-rock rebel, Trixie was sure stuck on following the rules—and unfortunately, even in the world of vampires, there were rules and limitations.

Can't go in the sun or risk turning to dust.

No more sterling silver jewelry because it burns like a bitch.

No feeding on customers from the club.

Blah, blah, blah.

Maya was getting sick and tired of other vampires telling her what to do at
every
turn. It was starting to make her crazy. So what if she liked to play with human men? She fed on them and teased them a little. She took them right to the brink of sex and then denied them the one thing they wanted—but she never hurt them. Hell, after she glamoured them, they never even remembered being with her.

Like all live feeds, Maya absorbed blood memories of her prey, and every time it confirmed her suspicions about what kind of men they were. She had a knack for picking boys who liked to hurt girls, and their blood memories always proved what her gut instinct told her. Most of the men she fed on thrived on dominating women in and out of the bedroom.

In her experience, all men wanted sex and most were driven by lust and desire. The majority of the guys Maya toyed with had used violence at some point in their lives to get sexual gratification. Sex and sexual power were all they wanted, and Maya swore she would never give that to another man again.

Nor would she let anyone take it.

Maya didn't want to kill these men or even hurt them. She simply wanted to know she had control and possessed power she'd never had as a human woman. None of the men she had dallied with had any real memories of their time with her, but Maya did—and it was the only thing that helped quiet the nightmares.

After Olivia turned Maya, she told her that within the first ten years of being changed, all vampires stop dreaming. Maya couldn't wait for that particular part of being a vamp to kick in because she was still having dreams.

Well, not dreams exactly. They were more like nightmares.

She let out a short laugh and punched buttons on the touch screen of the register.
Dreams?
Far from it. The dreams she had as a human would have been a welcome respite from the dark, frightening memory that haunted her sleep more days than she cared to count.

Maya's final mortal night, the last terrifying minutes before she died, replayed when she slept. No matter what she did, regardless of how much she begged and pleaded, her attacker didn't stop. In fact, her cries seemed to excite him more. No one heard her screams for help or her whimpering pleas from the alley, at least not until it was too late.

That's where Olivia had found her five years ago. Raped, beaten, and a heartbeat away from death in the alley behind the club. Left there like garbage by a man who treated her like less than nothing. He was like so many other men who passed through this club night after night, looking for a woman to use and abuse with no second thoughts, no remorse.

During the first few days after Maya was turned, she didn't remember what had happened. In fact, most of her human life was a fuzzy blur. But about a week after she became a vamp, the nightmares started and horrifying terror came with them. She never felt safe, but more than anything else, she loathed feeling like a victim.

Before Maya moved into her own apartment beneath the club, she'd stayed in the guest room of Olivia's place. Some nights Maya's cries woke her maker and she would come running. Olivia would always ask Maya about the dream, but she'd pretend that she couldn't remember and insist it was nothing.

To speak of it with anyone would only feed the fear. The only thing that helped ease Maya's anxiety and gave her some semblance of control was to dominate the human boys who attempted to seduce her. Sometimes, it would even keep the nightmare away for a sleep or two, but eventually the dark memory always came back.

Maya closed out Spike's tab and slid his receipt to him with one pink manicured nail. She smiled, knowing how easily his human mind could be manipulated by the glamour of a vampire. Male or female, no human was a match for her kind, which meant Maya could play all she wanted. There was never any question about who would come out on top, and that was just how she liked it.

Spike was babbling on and on about his motorcycle and how hot she would think it was to ride on it. Maya smiled and fiddled with the teardrop-shaped emerald in her gold necklace, playing up the dumb-blond bit, pretending to be impressed by his blathering.

The smooth, cool stone whispered beneath her fingers, and she fiddled with the ropy gold chain. Though she wore the necklace every day, there was always something soothing about holding the heirloom in her hands. She had no idea why. Her foggy, jumbled memories of her human life were like puzzle pieces scattered on the floor.

However, she suspected the necklace had been in her human family for generations. When she concentrated and really focused, Maya could picture a smiling, elderly lady wearing the necklace. Her gut instinct told her it was her grandmother, and most of the disjointed memories she had included this woman.

The sad truth was that she had no clue who her family had been or who
she
had been. When Olivia found Maya, she carried no identification, and in the days following the incident, there were no missing persons reports on the news with her picture. Olivia even did an extensive search online but nothing showed up. Even Maya's blood memories were limited to the night she was killed, and the only other piece of information Olivia was able to get was Maya's name.

It was as though Maya never existed until the night she became a vampire.

Tears pricked the back of her eyes at the reality of what that meant. It was heartbreaking to realize that no one was looking for her. What kind of person had she been? Apparently, she wasn't one worth finding.

“So, you wanna take a ride?” Spike asked, bringing Maya back from her thoughts.

Maya let out a sigh and nestled the stone safely in her ample cleavage. No point in dwelling on things or people that no longer made any difference. Her human life was behind her, and the powerful existence of a vampire was the only world that mattered. The gnawing hunger tugged at her gut while she smiled at the human. She was itching for closing time and running out of patience. Thankfully, the place had almost totally emptied out and she wouldn't have to wait much longer.

“Sure, baby. I'd love to take a ride with you.” Maya ran one manicured nail over his fingers that clutched the beer. “Just gotta take care of a few things and then I'm all yours.”

Maya glanced past her would-be suitor and caught a glimpse of Olivia's long, curly red hair as she ushered out the stragglers. She shot Maya a disapproving look and pointed at her while mouthing, “Stay there.”

Maya suppressed a satisfied smile. Normally, vampires could telepath with their makers, siblings, or progeny. However, ever since Olivia found her bloodmate, Doug, more than a few changes had taken place. There was one side effect of Olivia and Doug's unique mating that impacted the rest of the coven, at least aside from her mood swings. Ever since she mated with Doug, Olivia could
only
telepath with him.

To complicate matters for the coven even further, Olivia and Doug were now the Czars of New York City, and both of them had become daywalkers. But the real kicker, the cherry on top, was Olivia's pregnancy.

Jeez, and she thought Olivia was cranky
before
she got pregnant.

Not having the comforting connection of telepathy with her maker had been unsettling at first, but at moments like this, it was a blessing. At least the scolding was limited to verbal lashings.

“Last call, sweetie.” Maya winked a long-lashed eye at Spike and leaned on the bar, a move she knew would accentuate her ample cleavage.

The black leather bustier did a fine job on its own, but a little extra pop couldn't hurt. She noted that Spike's lascivious gaze flicked to the sizable emerald in her necklace. With any luck, he'd try to steal it and give her an excuse to kick his ass. Maya never hurt the men she toyed with, not only because it would cause trouble for the coven, but also because violence like that just wasn't in her nature.

Being violent was almost as frightening as being victimized.

“Is there anything else I can
do
for you?”

“Sure,” Spike said with a lopsided grin. He took a long pull off his beer and leered at her over the bottle. “Come with me after you get out of here, and I'll get you off about ten minutes after that.”

Maya suppressed an eye roll but kept a smile plastered on her face. Just when she was about to tell Spike she'd meet him outside, a dark shadow loomed large next to the young man and a powerful wave of energy wafted over her.

Shane
.

Maya flicked her gaze to the hulking form that appeared out of nowhere. Though Shane wasn't looking at her, and his energy was tuned into the human, she was still transfixed.

Shane Quesada was one of the sentry soldiers for the Presidium in New York. He also was easily the best-looking specimen of a man she'd ever laid eyes on. Maya was only five foot five, and he loomed over her at well past six feet. He had gorgeous olive-toned skin, a thick muscular build, and a head of wavy, chestnut brown hair that looked silky soft.

The man was a feast for the eyes, and the only thing hotter than how he looked was how he sounded. Something about the deep, rich baritone of his voice made her weak with desire, but after meeting him a few months ago, she quickly discovered that Shane was about as much fun as a nun at a keg party.

He was totally uptight, all about following the rules, and she was fairly sure he left his sense of humor in another century. Not only that, but he moved like a ghost and had developed the nasty habit of messing up her dates like it was part of his freaking job.

“It's time for you to go.” Shane's voice, quiet and powerful, captured Spike's attention.

Spike held the bottle in midair and stared straight ahead, wavering slightly when the glamour effect took hold. Watching the scene unfold, it dawned on her that Shane wasn't making eye contact with the kid and was glamouring the human with only the sound of his voice. Maya swallowed and took an involuntary step back, unnerved by the scope of Shane's power.

The combination of Shane's inescapable presence and the unsettling attraction she felt for him created an overall feeling of unease. It made Maya feel out of control and vulnerable—two things she loathed. Since becoming a vampire, the only other time she felt that way was when she relived the attack in her dreams.

“You did not enjoy yourself here, and therefore, you won't return.” Shane leaned closer, his voice dropping to almost inaudible tones before he flicked his dark, piercing gaze at Maya and whispered, “Never again.”

Maya's stomach fluttered, and when his eyes locked with hers, an odd sense of recognition crept into her mind. From the deep corners of her memory, an image of that dark, piercing stare ran through her mind, and in a rush of panic…
she
remembered
.

Shane had been in her nightmare.

Those deep brown eyes—intense, laser sharp, and full of fury—had been in her nightmare yesterday. Her brow furrowed. Shane had been there, lurking in the shadows of her nightmare
. Watching
. Maya's body tensed and shook with confusion as the gravity of this revelation settled over her.

Shane's eyes narrowed and he stared back at her, but his hulking form didn't flinch. Was that really possible, or was she imagining it? Could Shane have been in the dreamscape? Was he so powerful a vampire that he'd found a way to infiltrate the dreams of a youngling vampire like her?

Maya's jaw set. The how wasn't important, but the
why
was. Why would he spy on her and watch her being attacked while doing nothing to help? What kind of sick, evil son of a bitch gets off on watching something like that? Not only that, but who the hell gave him permission to spy on her in the dreamscape or right here in the bar?

Anger and confusion flashing, she shoved herself away from the bar and glared at him. Shane didn't retreat but simply held her stare with his usual calm arrogance. Was it arrogance or was it something else…distaste? Did he think she was a whore for flirting with this human and others like him? Did Shane think she deserved what happened to her that night?

Maya bit back tears, refusing to cry in front of him even though the accusing voice of shame kept rolling around in her head. The truth was, Shane wasn't the one saying those things,
she
was
.
She
had
been drunk that fateful night and had flirted with her date from minute one.

Maybe she had asked for it.

“This place sucks.” The boy blinked and put his beer down while giving Maya a wary look. He took cash out of his back pocket and tossed it on the bar before mumbling something inaudible and walking away. “I'm outta here.”

“Good riddance,” Shane murmured as he watched the boy leave.

“You're a killjoy,” Maya said, scooping up the money, turning her back on Shane, and closing out the sale. “What's your deal, anyway? Do you get off by ruining my fun?”

She slammed the register drawer shut, grabbed a wet rag from the sink, and started wiping down the bar. She had to create busywork for herself and get out from under the weight of Shane's accusing gaze. She was remarkably unsettled by that flashing memory of his eyes in her nightmare but determined to shake off the feeling. She refused to allow this stodgy, old vampire to steal the tiny bit of sanity she clung to.