Tempest was shocked to find herself doing exactly that. She didn’t fucking want to take his bloody hand, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had no intention of getting near him, but, as if she’d blacked out for a few seconds, she found her body jammed against his. In fact, he was stroking her ass cheeks and pressing her against his huge hard-on, and her body apparently liked it. He bent down and licked the side of her neck, then groaned.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve definitely got some unfinished business, beautiful offspring.”
Offspring? Jesus Christ. What was this guy into? Why wasn’t she kicking the shit out of him with her pointy boots? Why was she just standing there like a blow-up doll?
“Don’t make yourself crazy, Tempest. I do happen to be a
frickin’ vampire
, and as they say in all the old movies, ‘You’re under my power.’ Bwwwaaaa!” He laughed so hard his cock rocked against Tempest’s mound, and they both groaned.
“I’m going to see if there’s something convenient to wrap you in so you won’t be cold on your way to the Jag. Stand still.”
Stand still, my ass
. She struggled to break free of whatever he’d done to her, but couldn’t. Her muscles wouldn’t move. She’d apparently had a stroke or something, and the signals weren’t getting from her brain to her limbs. Right. As if she was just going to go somewhere with him in his car. Her mother hadn’t raised any idiot children. But then she remembered her guitar and briefcase and figured it would be good to at least retrieve her belongings before she escaped. He hadn’t actually hurt her. Yet.
Her eyes struggled to track his movements, which seemed faster than she could explain. She watched him rifle through some cabinets along the wall, tossing unwanted contents on the floor, before he found several blankets. Suddenly in front of her, he wrapped two of the heavy wool squares around her, and she began making grunting and whining noises, trying to move her lips.
“What? You can talk,” Malveaux said.
Her jaw resisted, aching, as if it hadn’t been used in hours rather than minutes. “My jacket! I want my dad’s jacket!”
“Well, shit.” He frowned. “Where is it?”
It felt weird that the only part of her capable of movement was her mouth. “It has to be in here somewhere because I had it on until they taped me to the chair.” She struggled to turn her head. “Hey, fuckwad. Unfreeze me, and I’ll find the jacket.”
“Fuckwad?” He laughed. “Ah, Tempest. So charming. How have I managed to live without you for all these years? All right. You can move.”
And she could.
Physically shaking herself to release the strange remnants of her catatonic state, she scanned the area and located the jacket draped on the back of a chair. She pointed, “There it is.” She shuffled in that direction, and found her path blocked by the twin corpses of Brown Teeth and his clone. Brown Teeth’s eyes were wide open, his face locked forever in stunned surprise. Even though they’d been assholes, her stomach lurched as she stepped over the annihilated bodies.
It wasn’t as if she were some fragile flower, always protected from the stench of death. She’d seen her share. Her band had even played in a club where a mob hit went down. With the first gun blast, the band members had all kissed the floor. When the smoke cleared, the blood bath was beyond description, but somehow this was worse. She’d had sex with the . . . thing . . . that did this.
She grabbed her jacket and turned to gaze at the thing. He smiled, still managing to look like some kind of dark angel rather than a psychotic demon.
“Brace yourself,” Malveaux said, shoving the jacket into her hands inside the blankets. The next thing she knew, he’d swept her up into his arms, and they were outside in the frigid air.
The snow had stopped falling, the wind had calmed, and stars sparkled in the cloudless sky. The full moon preened in the vast nothingness, its light reflected off the surface of the white-washed world. Tempest sucked in some air and was just about to complain that it hurt to breathe when they reached the car, and she was thrust inside. She immediately twisted her body so she could see the contents of the back seat and was relieved to find her missing possessions. How she was going to grab the guitar case and the over-stuffed briefcase in order to bolt from the car she had no idea. She shivered. It was so fucking cold that she dreaded leaving the blankets behind, but she’d do whatever she needed to. Getting away from the pretend vampire psycho was all that mattered.
Malveaux took his place in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and pulled away from the curb. She watched him for a moment, waiting for him to give some clue that he was freezing his ass off . . . his
naked
ass . . . and he was still sporting a damn erection. There had to be something seriously wrong with the guy. He had to be some kind of blood-drinking sex mutant.
He laughed and tipped his head in her direction. “Well, I guess that’s as good a description of me as any.”
She sure as hell knew she hadn’t said any of
that
out loud.
“What are you? Some kind of psycho mind reader? How do you keep knowing what I’m thinking? Did you get hit by lightning or something? Have you been abducted by aliens? Did you just guess I was thinking about you because you saw me looking at you?”
“I already told you.” He chuckled, slanting a glance in her direction. “I’m a ‘frickin’ vampire.’ I drink blood, read thoughts and emotions, and can change into other shapes. You know, like the movie guys in the black capes. Only my temper is much worse than any of those characters. I’m sure you noticed.”
“Yeah. I noticed a lot of things.” Tempest decided she’d be safe as long as the discussion remained calm and unthreatening, as long as she didn’t piss him off.
Fuck that. She’d never been known for her patience.
“So, where the fuck are you taking me? Are you going to kill me, too? Maybe you’re just going to let me freeze to death.”
He turned his head toward her, and raised his eyebrows. He clicked the heater on, and the warm air flooded the car. “Shit, I’m sorry. Vampires aren’t overly sensitive to heat or cold, and I rarely have a human passenger. Is that better? Feel free to turn the level up or down. I really don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Hmm. You don’t want me to be uncomfortable? I notice you didn’t answer my other questions.”
“Where are we going?” He glanced at her, expression serious. “We’re going to my secret lair, the one nobody knows about. It’s a few minutes out of town. Am I going to kill you? Well, that’s a tricky question.”
Having let the warmth and the illusion of safety lull her into a false sense of security, his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. She sat up rigidly and jerked her head in his direction, her stomach knotted with anxiety.
“What? What was that you said about killing me? What’s tricky?”
She’d met plenty of criminals and society’s dregs in her time, but something about the insanity of this situation threatened to turn her bowels liquid. Something about him. After what she’d seen him do, she understood that she was in dangerous territory. Who knew what would set a psycho off?
She eased her hand onto the door handle and estimated how fast the car was going. Malveaux didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to plow through the packed snow to reach their destination. He kept the speed at about around twenty-miles-per-hour. She could just lift the handle and roll out. The snow would cushion her abrupt exit. She’d be a human Popsicle, but at least she’d be alive.
Slowing her breathing, she darted a glance at him to find him studying her. Shit. Could the asshole really read her mind?
Apparently.
“What about your guitar? And your cherished briefcase? I thought those things were important to you? How will you take them with you if you just leap out of the car right now? It’s so cold out there, your gorgeous little ass might freeze right off.” He smiled, and rested an arm along the back of Tempest’s seat. “But by all means, try the door. Satisfy your adorable curiosity. I’ll let you.”
The combination of fear and anger made her feel wired and exhausted at the same time. It probably wouldn’t be good to launch into a feminist discussion of the “I’ll let you” comment. She doubted if bloodsucking monsters worried about being politically correct.
If the psycho found the idea of her opening the door entertaining, that meant he was up to something. He probably had it locked, or booby trapped, or some weird-ass thing. But she couldn’t not try, damn it, even if the asshole got a rush out of it. Shit. She was thinking again, and he was probably listening in.
He smiled, gently nodding his head. “You have the most amazing mind, Tempest. We’re going to make such a marvelous team. And, yes, of course the door is locked.” He tapped a button on his door. “I wouldn’t want anyone to reach in and pluck out my precious cargo.”
She swiveled her gaze to the window, almost expecting to see plucking hands reaching out for her. She released the breath she’d been holding and snugged the blankets more tightly around herself. It figured that Malveaux’s ride would have locks only he could open.
“Okay. I get it. You’re all-powerful, and I’m trapped in the car. Go back to the ‘killing me’ statement. Why is it tricky? Either you’ll kill me or you won’t.” Her eyes shifted down to his lap. “And why the fuck do you have a continuous hard-on?”
He smiled, the blood spattered all over his face and clumped in his hair making him look like one of the Scottish warriors in
Braveheart
at the end of a losing battle. “My continuous hard-on is the reason you’re here, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. And you actually won’t be dead. Well, maybe you will be, technically, but not in the quantum sense.”
Anger and Impatience wrestled down Fear and took center stage.
“What the
fuck
are you talking about? Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? I’m just a struggling musician, paying my dues. All I want is to sign a recording contract, have a great band, and get laid when I get the urge. Just your ordinary, everyday American gal. Why would you target me for this kind of perverted psycho-shit?”
She couldn’t believe it was possible for this sick whacko to still be gorgeous while covered in gore, but Malveaux was. It should be against the rules for a fiend to come in such a perfect package. He met her gaze with wide eyes, looking as innocent as a blood-covered demon could.
“I didn’t target you. Meeting you was actually a stroke of monumental luck. I had just eliminated a couple of newborn vampires in an alley down the street and chose that bar because it was close. I didn’t know that particular establishment had entertainment, at least any kind that involved people wearing clothing. I’d just been thinking about my need to find a permanent sex partner, and there you were.”
“Hold on, sailor.” She glared at him. “What do you mean, permanent sex partner? Permanent how?”
“Permanent, as in forever. Ah, here we are. Lair, sweet lair.”
Malveaux stopped the car, and Tempest finally noticed that they’d driven away from the lights of the city – which she could see in the distance – and were in a relatively deserted section, in what appeared to be a ghost town. Of course, it probably wasn’t a real ghost town, just an abandoned area.
Thanks to the illumination of the full moon, Tempest could make out the silhouette of a huge, dilapidated factory behind a broken chain-link fence. An old sign identified the building as an auto factory, which had apparently been a casualty of one of the country’s frequent economic downturns.
“Is this where we’re going?” She pointed at the empty building. “You live in this rat-infested death trap? Holy shit, did I have the wrong idea about you. No wonder you didn’t want to go to your place to fuck.”
“Well,” he laughed, “I’ve certainly spent time in worse places, but the factory isn’t our destination tonight.” He pointed across the street from the factory. “Welcome to one of the oldest churches in the Midwest. Not only is it old, but it has an illustrious history. Some enterprising souls dug secret rooms and tunnels underneath. It’s vampire heaven, so to speak.”
“Wait a minute.” Tempest stared at the large, boarded-up church. “Haven’t you got your mythology all messed up? If you’re pretending to be a vampire, shouldn’t you be afraid of churches? Shouldn’t you burst into flames if you even stick a toe in one? And, for that matter, wouldn’t that box of crap back at the mobster’s office have sent you screaming? Holy water, crucifixes, garlic? Aren’t those usually the weapons of choice against you bloodsucking night crawlers?”
Malveaux smiled wide, the tips of his fangs waving hello. “This is so great. It never occurred to me that I’d find an offspring with a quick and clever mind, in addition to her other attributes. I can’t wait to seal our bond and have you with me forever.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Although, we do need to expand your vocabulary so it includes words with more than four letters in them. But to answer your questions, all that stuff is bullshit. I won’t go into specifics about how we can actually be killed – the true death, as it’s called – but I’ll say that it involves more than jewelry, water, and a bulbous plant. Religion became associated with vampires long ago for political reasons. We were, after all, such convenient scapegoats. Rest assured that if I feel myself about to combust, I’ll give you fair warning to get out of the way.” He laughed heartily, turned the steering wheel, and drove slowly along the side of the church. Reaching the rear, he angled the Jag into an old shed, only a few feet wider than the car, and turned off the ignition.
“Listen, pretty boy.” She shook a finger in his direction. “There’s nothing wrong with my vocabulary. I know lots of words with more than four letters. I just have a few personal favorites, you cocksucking bastard. See? My language is well-rounded. Plenty of long words.”
“Ah, well.” He laughed. “I stand corrected.”
“Why do you care if I say
fuck
or not? Since when are you the arbiter of good taste?”
“Arbiter?” He grinned. “Well, now I
am
impressed.”
Quicker than it should have been possible, Malveaux flashed out of the car and stood in the tiny bit of space left between the open passenger door and the wall of the shed. He extended a hand. “Your chamber awaits, m’lady. I’ll have you all warm and writhing in no time.”