Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Amber Quill Press www.amberquill.com
Copyright ©2007 by Brit Blaise
NOTICE: This eBook ...
13 downloads
870 Views
419KB Size
Report
This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Amber Quill Press www.amberquill.com
Copyright ©2007 by Brit Blaise
NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.
Distributed by Fictionwise.com
2
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
SLAYERS INC. By BRIT BLAISE **** ISBN 978-1-60272-140-1 Amber Quill Press, LLC www.amberquill.com
3
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Also By Brit Blaise Another Cave Creek Cowboy Cave Creek Cowboy Cave Creek Cowboy Christmas Cave Creek Cowboy In Vegas Cave Creek Cowboy: Too Many Brides Fix This! Galaxy Gone Wild A Lady's Lessons Out Of Space Music Man Taking It Slow Two Weeks In Paradise The Virginia Model-Logues 4
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Wanton Warrior Wild And Wanton
5
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CONTENTS CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 Brit Blaise ****
6
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 1 Phoenix boasts many refined drinking establishments where a nice girl can chill with a fruity drink topped by a colorful little umbrella. She can lounge on a misted patio and enjoy tall palm trees swaying in the dry heat of the Santa Anna winds. A nice girl can count on the certainty that one or two preppie college boys will weave their way through the lush, tropical fauna to deliver their latest line. This isn't one of those bars. And I, Jenna Bradley, am not a fucking nice girl ... not anymore. Not since a blood-sucking vampire sank his teeth into my neck, and that's not the worst of it. The bastard murdered my best friend, Rosa. I'm about to enter a dilapidated bar thirty miles from civilization in the hot Arizona desert. Under a cosmetic coat of chipped stucco, a million termites hold hands to keep the hovel upright. This place would give hellish nightmares to a nice girl. Not me. I took a second to enjoy a sense of elation, mixed with a stiff shot of adrenaline, zinging along my nerve endings. My first step into the bar would mean that after nearly a year of non-stop preparation, I'd finally get to start the kick-ass part of my quest. This is my chance to prove how much my best friend meant to me. And if I'm lucky, I'll get a chance to kill the vampire who made me.
7
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
When I gave the rickety door a gentle push, it opened with a resounding whack against the wall. I pretended I meant to do it. Everyone would've stared at me anyway ... they just do. I pushed my Hollywood shades into place because it bugs me when people comment about the unusual amber and green shade of my eyes. I'd tried to put "puked-up Skittles" in the color box on my driver's license, but the DMV wouldn't let me. Go figure. Besides, I wear them to hide my eyes. One little fit of temper and they start to glow. Nobody wants to see neon puked-up Skittles. On a good day, I carry a chip on my shoulder, although I don't think it's noticeable. The loss of my best friend, Rosa, turned the chip into a log. Becoming a vampire made it a fucking tree. I hadn't counted on how dark it would be inside, but at least I had an advantage. My fledgling vampire powers include super night vision. I'd planned exactly how I'd look on the day I officially started the gun-toting, stake-carrying, hell-raising part of my mission. My fringed leather vest hid my gun perfectly. It cradled nicely against my waist. For backup, I carry a fourinch, plain-edged knife hidden in a hot-molded sheath fitted to one of my custom boots. The other boot holds a pure silver stake. A long, low wolf-whistle from a dark corner of the room made my heart start to race. Yeah, right. My heart may be a shriveled raisin for all I know. 8
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"What can I do for you little lady?" the bartender asked once I reached the corner of the bar. Little lady? I'm four inches short of six feet. Jerk. "I'll have a shot of tequila and a Bud Light." No girlie umbrella drinks for me anymore. Besides, the closest thing to a novelty umbrella in this joint would be a cactus needle with a peanut husk attached. Only two stools were occupied, but if I sat at the bar I wouldn't be able to watch the room. Everything I've read about vampires tells me I should be lightning quick. Not. I should be able to zoom from one part of the room to the other in a blink of the eye. Can't. I should be able to disappear. Wrong. The only good I can find in all of this ... I don't thirst for blood. I take supplements instead. Bunches of them. "I need to see proof you're legal." The bartender reached his hand toward me while I dug my license out of my back pocket. "Huh. Twenty-four. You look younger." "You can sit next to me, honey," one of two guys at the bar said. "You got balls, Sam," the guy sitting next to him said. "Looks like she could break you like a toothpick," "My kind of gal," Sam said, winking at me before he patted the seat next to him as an invitation to sit. Touching the edge of my vest, I had an urge to flash him. One look at my gun and I bet he'd take back his sweet invitation. A woman accessorized with deadly weapons can have that effect on a man, a sane one anyway. 9
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
The bartender slid a salt shaker across the bar toward me. "You want some lime with your tequila?" "Sure," I told him. I've got a way with words. "We get a bunch of guys in here every Saturday night— makes it worth my while to pull a few limes off my wife's tree." Bingo on the guys coming in for the limes. They were the men I'd planned to meet, the men of Slayers Inc.—vampire slayers. They'd set up a training compound not far from the bar. After the bartender delivered my drinks, I made my way slowly to the corner of the room and sat with my back to the wall. The waitress approached after I'd tossed back the cactus juice. "Can I get you another one?" I shoved the lime into my mouth and gave her the universal hold-your-damn-panties-on sign. She waited patiently. Maybe she wanted a reason to get a closer look, because the waitress critiqued every inch of me while she lingered. I returned the favor. Her hair looked like she'd just stepped out of the beauty parlor. She had the kind of 'do you could duck behind for cover if you weren't worried about the color making a good target. I guess you'd call it plain purple, so it wouldn't worry me. Besides, I don't have to worry about ducking for cover ... I'm already sorta dead. "Another?" she repeated.
10
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Sure," I managed to squeak after a couple of tries. I still hadn't gotten the hang of eating and drinking, but I need to do it to appear normal. "Be right back," she said and smiled. "Take your time," I told her and meant it. From behind my dark glasses, I surveyed the room without moving my head. Seven men, with ages varying from about twenty-five to fifty, nursed their drinks. Six of them took an interest in watching me. The seventh didn't look at all. Now that interested me. I peeled the damp label on my beer bottle and studied him. He had dark hair hidden under a red bandana and a neatly trimmed mustache with a popular, goatee-type tuft of hair under his bottom lip called a soul-patch. It made him appear street-wise and sexy. I decided he could easily be one of the vampire slayers I planned to meet, but not anyone I recognized. When he got up and headed toward the john, I had an epiphany. That's WASP speak for a sorry-ass idea. I grabbed my duffle bag and followed him. I stayed back far enough to enjoy the view. I made a bet he'd gone commando under his tight washed-out jeans. They hugged his shapely bottom and muscular thighs. A fitted white T-shirt took a sharp angle down from his wide shoulders into his belted waistband. I stopped outside the door to wait a couple of seconds before I trailed him inside. He stood with his legs apart in front of a urinal when I slipped inside. After pushing back against the door so nobody could join us, I said the first thing to come to mind. "Now I know why you didn't look at me. You must need tweezers to get that thing out of your pants." 11
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
At the sound of my voice, he jerked in my direction. Until this point I really hadn't seen his cock. Sheesh! The joke was on me. Of course, with my eyes hidden by dark glasses he couldn't see me blinking rapidly. "Madre de Dios! Are you crazy, woman?" He turned his back and shook King Dong before he zipped his pants. While he walked to the sink, I pretended to inventory the paper towels. I'm good at pretending, especially in uncharted male territory accented in classic dirty porcelain. Even if he hadn't spoken Spanish to summon God's mother, I knew I hadn't been wrong about him. His ethnic machismo stood out in the close confines of the restroom. He had a heavy inflection in the delivery of his words that screamed Latino. I love a man with an accent. I pulled a paper towel from the dirty chrome holder and folded it neatly over my arm while he washed his hands. "What gave me away?" he asked finally. "I'm not egotistical, but I at least deserve a look." His sensuous eyes locked on mine, despite my dark glasses. "Believe me, I looked." He ignored the towel I held out to him and leaned into my space to pull one from the dispenser. He cocked his head to the side and gave me a sexy grin. "I could give you more than a look if you'd like." He spoke in a husky growl above the gurgle the ancient water pipes. I thought about what I'd seen moments earlier, even though I'd no intention of taking him up on his generous—and I mean generous—offer. Another side effect of my vampire curse is having the raging hots every waking moment. From 12
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
the second my maker sank his teeth into my throat, I'd become undead-estrogen ... walking. "I think I'll pass," I told him, even while in the throes of a female hard-on. If I were a man, my cock would be about twelve inches long and as big around as my wrist. "You know, Coop isn't going to be too happy with me, seein' how you made me so quick." In no hurry to leave the delightful ambiance of the men's room, he grabbed a second towel. Coop equals Marc Cooper, my nemesis and the man voted most likely to end my life, if I'm not extremely careful. His name was the magic word allowing me to speak openly. "When does Coop plan to be here?" My voice sounded normal. Not a hint of the turmoil I felt about Marc Cooper to betray me. He torments me, even though we'd never actually met. Yet. "Coop's running late. He sent me to keep an eye on you and make sure you didn't get in trouble with any of the locals. Name's Joe. Joe Mendez." He smiled widely after his introduction. Joe had the kind of smile that transforms a face. It made him go from attractive to knockout. His dark hair gleamed under the bare hundredwatt bulb perched high above the rust-colored sink. His deep, gunmetal gray eyes sparkled with a blend of mischievous cleverness, and other things—delightfully carnal things. Things I'd willing do. Any normal woman would find him totally irresistible. His face said so. I believed his face. Did that mean I wasn't normal? No surprise there. 13
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
He reached his right hand toward me and flashed me another toothpaste commercial smile. "I can take care of myself," I said under my breath, before I locked onto his extended hand to shake, and firmly planted my feet apart, while he took a step closer—too close. Joe couldn't know, but I have superpowers I attribute to the sexy undies Rosa's mother makes for me. Today I'd picked black lace panties with cherry-red satin hearts appliquéd over both butt cheeks. Rosa would approve. And, of course, I may have gotten a little stronger since the bite of death. "You don't look much like your picture." Joe reached to squeeze my hard-earned bicep with his free hand. "I couldn't be sure it was you. It's your hair. That's an interesting color." "I think it's called strawberry parfait-olé." I'd dyed my blonde hair a light auburn color I thought might interest my mark. And besides, nobody questioned a redhead with icky pale skin. I'd always worn it in a tidy braid down my back, now I don't give a shit. I let it explode and fly. "It looks natural." "Let's say we go have a couple of drinks," I said, "and get to know one another." I flexed the muscle he held, while I tightened my already-firm grip on his hand as we continued to shake. I used to be a cop, but I quit after I died. Well, maybe quit isn't the right word. I'd been given a choice—stop acting weird or leave. I left. I figured sooner or later they'd discover my bloody little secret. Besides, I have plenty to keep me busy finding Rosa's murderer and my maker. Rosa and I had bonded over 14
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
crayons in kindergarten, beheaded Barbies by the second grade and then advanced straight to boys—chasing, not beheading. Nobody had a better friend than Rosa. No way could I have predicted how hard I'd take losing her. I didn't have a clue how dependent I'd become on her ... on how much my identity had melded with hers. I couldn't forget about the murdering, scum-sucking vampire who took her life any more than I could stop breathing. Technically incorrect, since I pretended to breathe—most of the time. "I've only got a couple of bucks to last until Coop gets here," Joe said. "I've got you covered," I told him. "You don't look like you could drink too much." "First, you question my manhood, but I know you lie," Joe said with his sexy accent and best smile yet. The temperature soared. "Now you question my ability to drink? This will be interesting, querida. Very interesting." I resisted the urge to tell him to stop calling me sweetheart. I didn't want to tip him off I spoke fluent ghetto Spanish with a couple of proper textbook phrases thrown in for good measure. "I'm nosy about Marc Cooper. I don't suppose I could get you to answer a couple of questions?" Joe pulled a cell phone from his waist and flipped it open. He hit speed dial and put it to his ear. "Bradley made me. I think I could be in trouble here, boss." Joe rolled his eyes and winked at me. "No, I didn't—she thinks she's going to get me drunk and learn all our secrets, then maybe fuck me, so maybe you'd better get over here 15
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
fast. She just may succeed." Before he flipped the phone shut, I heard a loud, angry voice. "Coop?" I relaxed. I liked Joe. Damn! I didn't want to like any of the vampire hunters. My plan to stay detached was already in the crapper. "Coop may be the boss of Slayers Inc., but he's also my cousin, so he can't hurt me too badly." Joe leaned a fraction closer and chuckled. I stood my ground—the personal space I think of as lined with rusty barbed wire, in need of a good dusting and a pint or two of whole blood. What's worse, I needed a proper fucking and it seemed to show. "I'm betting you know everything there is to know about my personal life. So that means you know I'm not looking for love." He winked. "Who says we have to be in love?" I needed some space or hosed down with icy water. "That's enough, Romeo. Let's go have a drink before I lose my temper and we get off to a bad start." Joe opened the door and then stood off to the side. Sheesh! Didn't this guy know the bad-boy rules? I grabbed my duffle and walked ahead of him. I reached under my vest with my free hand to touch the handle of my semi-automatic, 9mm Mini Firestorm and gave it a quick caress. There are smaller guns I could have chosen, but the simplicity of the Firestorm drew me to it when I'd first decided to become a gun owner. And maybe the name. It's simple to break down for cleaning, has fixed sights and a grip which fits my hand perfectly. Of course, I know a lot more about guns 16
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
now, yet I stubbornly stay with my first choice. When I form an attachment, it's forever. Period. Joe followed me out the door, where we bumped into the nosy waitress. "That was great, Joe," I said, for her ears only. The woman pressed her lips together and gave me a look telling me she'd relegated me to slut status. If she only knew. Joe didn't seem to mind what I'd said. "So, what do you want to know about Coop?" he asked once we were seated together at my table. "First, I need to know how Coop and I can avoid shooting each other two minutes after we meet in the flesh." "Before we speak of my cousin, I think you should tell me what you know about John Wilson," Joe said. "Not the image he gives the world as a famous movie producer. What kind of man is he?" "You probably know as much as I do." "I'm new to this operation," he said. "Humor me." I'd figured him for new, so I gave him the basics without giving away any secrets. "John Wilson has the bucks to fund several treks into Colombia to get the vampire who killed Rosa and John's brother, Brent. Big money he's willing to spend to make the Sandovals disappear forever." Joe frowned at my words, momentarily stopping me. Maybe my take on what happened didn't match what he'd heard. I continued, "Carlos and his brother Micos Sandoval were having a night on the town when Micos started getting rough with his date. We didn't have a clue we'd be dealing with vampires in downtown Phoenix. Rosa wanted to help the young girl, so the three of us followed them into an alley 17
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
behind the club. It was over so fast I've a hard time remembering. In a matter of seconds, Rosa and Brent were dead." "And you?" This is the part I don't remember. I saw Rosa and Brent's necks ripped to shreds and then nothing ... "I was knocked unconscious. I think they would've killed me, too, but the guys from my squad came to my rescue." "You were lucky." Lucky I knew the cops and they didn't examine me too closely or I'd already be in the State Facility for the Undead. Lucky some gung-ho rookie didn't staked me first and ask questions later. In truth, I went home and crashed. It was days before I came to and realized exactly what had happened to me. I still haven't figured out the why or how. "The killers vanished before they could be apprehended. They resurfaced in Colombia, where toleration of the criminal element reached a new high when the country openly acknowledged acceptance of vampires. Now, Slayers Inc. is on the job." Joe nodded. "My cousin is happy to work for a man like Wilson. He understands a man willing to stand up for his family." This time, when Joe spoke, he inched his chair closer. "A man with much money and so generous. But Coop will not be pleased to have you involved. He thinks he'll scare you off so he can do his job in peace. I think Coop will have a hard time getting rid of you." "I know he will," I said. "I haven't come this far to be told to get lost. Come tomorrow morning, I'm on a plane headed 18
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
to Bogotá. You can either use my help or stay the fuck out of my way. Besides John Wilson, I have more at stake than anyone involved in this." "I've heard you have as much money as Wilson, too? Perhaps you would like to marry a good looking Latino?" Joe winked at me and flashed his mega-watt grin. "I'll think about it," I told him. "But if you're under the mistaken impression I have as much money as John, you'll be disappointed. Nobody has that much money, except John Wilson." Joe took a strong pull on his beer, not taking his gaze away from my face until he'd emptied the bottle. He made the universal two-finger motion at the waitress to bring more drinks. "Maybe you'll do." "I'm not here for an audition." "Forgive me," he said softly. "I didn't mean to make you angry. We've been told how important your friend was to you." "Rosa wasn't just a friend. We grew up together in the same house. I went on a hunger strike in kindergarten to make my mother hire Rosa's mom as our live-in maid." I started to choke-up and held it. Damn! If I can't breathe, why the hell can I still cry? "Rosa matters," I said, after I composed myself. "Not because she was a fellow officer. She matters because no one deserves to be murdered by vampires. That's all I have to say." It's still too painful. Even while the words rushed from my mouth, I felt another stab to my shriveled heart. Just the thought of her could make me blubber. Another thing they 19
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
forgot to mention in the handbook—The Vampire's Guide to Better Living. "Coop will try to make you quit and go home. He thinks your emotions will get you killed. Or worse, one of us." Joe wasn't saying anything that surprised me. What Coop might do worried me. If Coop had managed to get my medical records, I knew exactly what to expect. It could get ugly. "Are you wearing shades for a reason? Take them off so I can see your eyes, chica." Joe started to smile at me again. Then his eyes swiftly narrowed and he stared down at my waist. I didn't think my anatomy interested him—much, so I moved my arm to make sure he couldn't see my gun. I could tell from his frown my movement gave me away, but he didn't get a chance to comment before the front door slammed open. A loud, boisterous crowd of men walked single-file into the dark bar. "Aah, los hombres peligrosos del diablo." Joe stood to motion them in our direction. The devil's dangerous men, I mentally translated. Hard men. Men, who wouldn't back down, couldn't be bluffed and wanted me gone. Men who refused to believe I could gut it out. I sat up a little straighter in my chair. "Bring 'em on." [Back to Table of Contents]
20
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 2 All but one of the men came over to greet Joe. Each appeared to be at least part Latino and looked as if he kicked newborn puppies for fun. "Que es la mujer?" One of the men demanded of Joe. Who's the woman? "Coop told you no messing with the locals," said another, even younger man with two silver earrings in his left ear. I guessed him to be at least three years younger than my twenty-four. "This is Jenna Bradley," Joe said. I stayed mum as a cute guy with a wild Mohawk haircut insisted I looked too good to be Jenna Bradley. "No, I tell you, it's her," Joe insisted. "I wouldn't argue with a woman carrying a gun." Joe laughed as they all began to examine me from head to toe. That's one for you, Joe. The glimmer in his eyes said he'd known exactly what they'd do. "Thought you was broke," the biggest guy said to Joe as he eyed the drink in Joe's hand. "Jenna meet Yam. Jenna's buying," Joe said. Two points for Joe and zero for me. However, if it took a few drinks to keep these guys happy, I didn't have a problem. The sound-level in the bar hitched upward a couple of decibels as the men pushed tables together and pulled chairs across the wooden floor, while they loudly vocalized their deep appreciation for free booze. 21
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"You guys want the usual?" the waitress asked once everyone had settled down. "Carry on without me. I need to visit the little girl's room." I really needed a second to regroup and make sure my fangs weren't showing. I stood and swung my duffle bag over my shoulder. The guys were all still trying to find my gun. Or something. As I walked across the bar, prickles ran down my spine, which had nothing to do with heat. Not the kind of heat an air conditioner could cool. I resisted the urge to look around for Coop. Once inside the single-stall bathroom, I locked the door before rummaging through my bag for my make-up. Just to keep them wondering, I glam'd myself with a quick swipe or two. Yeah, right. I'd promised myself I wouldn't let Coop see how he affected me, yet here I stood with my face in a damned mirror, yet another inaccuracy. My reflection had survived the bite. Before leaving, I readjusted my gun. The Mini Firestorm holds ten, 9mm Luger loads in the cartridge and another in the chamber, but I almost never chamber a bullet since it would really piss me off if I accidentally blew a hole in my side. Since so far, with almost nothing what I'd expected, maybe I'd still be undead, only with a big hole I'd have to hide, too. The minute I stepped out the bathroom door, I could tell something had changed. The men seemed subdued, and I found the reason quickly. Coop stood with his back to me while he talked to them. 22
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Dressed all in black, like the proverbial bad guy, he seemed bigger than I'd imagined him. Taller. Well over six feet. His dossier had said only two inches over, but he looked seven feet tall to me. His tight black, sleeveless T-shirt exposed his well-defined biceps and then it clung to his wide shoulders before it veered down to his trim waist. His faded black jeans hugged a taut, rounded bottom that seemed to magnetize my eyes. No matter how hard I tried to look elsewhere, his ass kept bringing me back. My mouth started to water, and so did that other part of me that nice girls can ignore. I nearly reached the table before he shifted to look at me. The moment was suspended in time. Pure torture. Nothing registered in his face except—interest? No way! Something caught in my throat. He mirrored the mug shots from a tactical montage on my living room wall. Despite his scruffy, unshaven face and overall rugged, wolfish appearance, his piercing blue eyes turned me to pudding. These were the same eyes that had followed me around my living room for almost a year, yet nothing could have prepared me for the real thing in living color. I'd never seen eyes so intense—cold, blue diamonds as dangerous as fire, with crystal-lined centers, circling pinpoint black pupils despite the dim light. His disgustingly long, thick black eyelashes made them appear to glow menacingly. I'd heard he'd been bitten a couple of times, but not turned. Maybe the bites left him with a residual effect. 23
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop's half-Latin heritage showed in his tanned skin and raven hair brushed back tightly against his head, then bunched into a long ponytail. He was one hell of a bad boy. Holy shit! I pitied any woman who might lose her heart to this one. It almost made me glad I no longer had one in working order. I took the seat where I'd been earlier. Coop's new expression, half bored, half threatening, warned me to take it easy. "Pass me a beer." I pretended to ignore him and left off saying please so he'd get the idea I'm a badass. "Hey, Coop, looked like you were getting to ready to hit on her," one of the men taunted. It didn't exactly look like that to me, but I also didn't exactly mind the idea. The waitress arrived in time to hear and adopted a quick attitude. Christ, I don't even know this woman and she's out to get me. She made a motion toward me before she directed a rigid pointed finger at Joe and gave it a shake. "These two made it in the men's toilet earlier. She came out braggin' about it." Why did she have to do that? I sank down and cursed my big mouth while Joe chuckled. All of the guys gawked at Joe in disbelief and then turned back to Coop to catch his reaction. Marc Cooper's already stone-cold face hardened to titanium steel. "I want to talk to you now," he said to me. His thick voice resonated with a low, steamy rumble something like honeycoated cactus needles, both prickly and sexual at the same time. Joe stood up, but Coop continued to stare at me, waiting. 24
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"I think maybe he means me," I told Joe. Coop's face remained unreadable as we all watched the waitress gather the empty bottles. When she finally left, I expected all hell to break loose. Coop cracked his knuckles. Give me a break. "So, you're the little lady who thinks she can kill a master vampire?" Little lady? Just a tad condescending? And exactly when did I become little? Maybe I'm just too fucking sensitive. With seven pairs of eyes trained on me I couldn't pretend I didn't hear. I'd hoped to avoid a confrontation for at least another minute or so, but I could feel my congealed blood warm to the task. "Was that a rhetorical question?" I asked, after I put my beer down and dabbed the corners of my mouth with a paper napkin. Manners before mayhem. My mother would be so proud of me. "I'll be goddamned if I'm going to let you get any of my men killed," Coop barked. "That's it? Is that supposed to get rid of me? You need to swing your dick a little harder because you didn't move me." I held my arm up, turned it palm up and then down. "Look. No goose bumps. Want to try again?" Some of the guys hooted and Coop laughed—not the kind of laugh that sounded as if I'd amused him. I shrugged and sat back in my chair. The strange effects of the tequila on my undead body didn't help one bit. I didn't want to speak too fast, but could feel the collective frustration as everyone waited for my response. I picked up my almost empty bottle of beer and held it suspended in front of my mouth. "I can hold my own. Get over it. I'm here for the duration. As I told 25
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Joe, I'm on a plane in the morning and there's nothing you can do about it. Accept it or not ... I don't care. Just don't get in my way." "I think Wilson should have his head examined for letting you get involved in this," said a young man with a white scar cutting across his whiskered chin. "If you were my woman I'd—" I slammed my bottle back on the table and gave him a talk-to-the-hand. "I read where over two million women get arrested each year for violent crimes. Want to raise those stats?" "Two words—anger management," Coop said. "Two words—fuck you." My mom always told me nice girls don't get mad. Why did I always seem to prove her right? If they weren't careful, they'd find out just how angry I could get. I blame it on the really gross side effects of being a vampire. "Don't worry, your protector got word to us to stay away from you," Coop said. His words startled me. John Wilson was no more than the moneyman. I could have gone to my wealthy family for the money or even used my own trust fund. I figured letting someone else foot the bill would keep me out of the spotlight. "John told you to stay away from me?" No way. "You two got something going on?" Coop asked with a knowing smirk and jerk-off motion with his fist. "I can't think of any other reason he'd let you come with a bunch of horny men." 26
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
For some crazy reason, this made me angrier than his earlier remarks. Go figure. "Maybe John started without me and forgot to ask me to participate. It's a common male trait. And nobody is letting me do anything. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Like a spring loaded, snake-in-a-can joke gimmick, my butt left the chair. I had so much energy ready to fly out of me I did the only thing I could do. I kicked the table leg. It snapped off and thankfully only flew a few feet into the air. Somehow Joe kept everything from hitting the floor as if he'd expected it. "If you're the type who thinks they need to have the last word let me warn you," I said to Coop. "Not now!" I didn't wait to see anyone's reaction to my temper tantrum, just in case they could see my eyes glowing behind my glasses. I turned and stomped away. I was blowing it—big time. Even with my face buried against the nicotine-stained glass of the jukebox, I could feel Coop walk up behind me. "I've spent every waking minute for the past year getting ready for this." I twisted around to face him, careful not initiate body contact. "If John has romantic feelings, he hasn't said anything to me. This isn't about romance. It's about justice." "Trust me, he's interested. I imagine he's just biding his time until you get your blood-thirst sated." Coop answered and took a step—closer. "He's probably intimidated by you right now. You may be a little too physical for a blue-blood like him." For a second I wondered if he'd guessed my secret. "You think I overdid it?" 27
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Things go south on this op, you'll be thankful for every muscle in your body," he said, and moved nearer still. I could feel heat radiating off of his body and a zing from a vibe thing I had going with him. He tapped his fingers on the glass as I started to leave. "There's my song," he said, more air and growl than sound. Before I could formulate a thought, he stuck his coins in the slot and punched some buttons. He'd been punching my buttons before I'd even met him. As soon as the music started to play, he pulled me into his arms. It wasn't that he held me too tightly against his hard body, it was that a little of his body went a long way. I nonchalantly entered an orgasmic vortex and tried to figure a way to worm myself back out before I had my way with him then and there. I followed the slow gyration of his hips and locked both arms around his neck. Moisture flooded my special panties. Coop flinched when he felt my gun. "What's wrong?" I pretended not to know and pushed harder against him. It added a little more drama as I rubbed the butt of my gun along his hip. It felt good to be in a man's arms. It felt beyond incredible to be in Coop's strong arms. I wanted to rub my nose against his neck, he smelled so good. But I had no intention of falling into bed with him or any other man, unless it was by accident. Especially not one I already had a serious Jones for. "Why the hell are you wearing a gun? I could make you eat it before you blinked twice." 28
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Maybe," I said. "But while I'm chowing down on my gun, I could always use my knife." He growled again and pulled me still tighter. The feel of him, alternately paralyzed and—what?—electrified me? This man had a rap sheet longer than my arm, not that it mattered for a vampire hunter. How could I rationalize having any kind of feelings for him, even if they were only sexual? Very, very sexual. His fingers ran along the small of my back. "Maybe we should save this conversation for later." "I didn't think you wanted me to have a later." "Go home," he said. "We'll make sure the Sandovals never kill again." "Save your breath. I can get them without you." That sounded nuts, even to me. Everything I knew about vampires filled hundreds of pages, but already my own experience had me questioning the so-called experts who wrote the books. And shape shifters ... if any were involved, I didn't know what I'd do then. "You aren't what I expected, I'll give you that. You don't look much like the prim and proper picture we had of you. That alone tells me you're more dedicated to this agenda than I believed. But forcing yourself into the middle of something that could get someone killed..." "My part in this is ambiguous at best." I outright lied. "I'm just a decoy. I'll dance for Sandoval and get him to come after me. I promise I can do it." I intended to be much more than bait. 29
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"You're a cop, not a vampire hunter. You're out of your element. But I agree you'll get his attention." He nuzzled into my neck and, even though I don't like anything or anyone near my carotid, I loved the sensations. I felt the warmth of his breath. The unique smell of him filled my head. It was a cross between spice and musk with pure-fuck as the main ingredient. And there was something else, a scent I couldn't name, but I wanted more. If I stiffened, he might guess how he affected me. I forced myself to relax. "I'm not a cop anymore. Technically, I'm nothing now. I thought Wilson covered all of this. I have no intention of going home. You've got the power to send me packing if you can convince him I can't cut it physically, but you have to give me a chance. Plus, John knows I'll hunt the Sandovals on my own if you refuse to help me. So you really don't have a choice." "I've agreed to give you a chance, but that doesn't mean you can waltz in here and start trouble with my men." "If you think I'm here for anything other than business, you don't have a clue about me." "I know all there is to know about you." I prepared myself for what came next and gave him credit for being upfront. I didn't imagine he'd just come out with it. Then again, maybe he felt free to speak candidly because of his Alpha-male status. They all probably suspected my dark secret. "I'm sure you think you know everything," I told him. "I've seen your medical records." Bingo. "So?" I kept my face void. 30
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"So, what's the word they use for women who can't get enough?" That's it? He's thinks I have a sexual disorder? I almost didn't stop the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Use the word nympho and you'll be sorry. I have an organic glitch, an overly active production of hormones, nothing more." "An organic glitch?" He sounded amused. "PSAS, if you want the latest, modern clinical name. Female Persistent Sexual Arousal Syndrome." I jerked back, arched a brow above my glasses and silently dared him to make a wise crack. "PSAS, huh? And I have no reason to be concerned?" He pressed into the juncture between my legs where I was already on fire. I could count the change in his pocket, if not for the more significant lump distracting the hell out of me. I knew what he wanted. He thought he could scare me off with this? Bring it on. Please? With a quick jerk, he slipped my T-shirt from my waistband to skim his warm hand along bare skin. I know enough moves I could've avoided this. Frankly, I wanted to see how far he'd go. Yeah, right. My reaction was fast and furious as an implosion of sensations rocked me to the soles of my feet, but I didn't let it show. Holy macaroni, the man knew how to rotate his hips, once he'd shut his mouth and danced. A million questions buzzed in my pheromone-soaked brain. If this guy was 31
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
already getting to me, I had a problem. I needed to find a solution. Fast. The irony of being in the arms of a man whose primary mission in life was to kill vampires gave me the willies because it felt good—too damned good. I wanted him and I wanted it bad. I thought back to the days I'd decapitated my Barbies and reminisced about what I'd done to Ken. Poor Ken. Did I dare try it on a living, breathing man? Since I didn't have any cherry bombs or Superglue, I needed another plan. "What were you saying about hormones?" He touched his hot lips to my ear and let his words brush down my neck. This made my concentration flash on and off like a traffic signal in hyper-drive mode. Stop equals concentrate. Go equals feel. Concentrate. Feel. Feel. On fire, and fucking stuck on go, I burrowed against him with a surge of lightning-like passion frying my internal justsay-no circuits. "It's okay for you to have a hard-on, but I'm not allowed to feel the same?" "I'm only trying to be accommodating." "I'll accommodate myself until the vampires are dead." I gave him a shove and he let go of me. I turned back toward the table. At least my arousal wasn't visible across a dark room. Coop grabbed my arm from behind to stop me as I started to walk away. He pulled me back into his arms and snaked an arm around me, cradling the back of my head and neck in his large hand. The other hand, he brought up to cup my chin. As 32
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
he ran his thumb along my throat, a pulse in my crotch beat so strongly it signaled my toes to start curling. His moist lips first delivered a whisper of a kiss and the moment I allowed my mind to wrap around the poignant sweetness, he deepened it. That heart-stopping, mindnumbing kiss took me to a place I didn't know existed. Never dreamed could be real. A place so full of promise, I felt a sharp sting at the back of my eyelids. This warned me I could burst into tears. Sheesh! He kissed me like he wanted to erase my memory of ever being kissed by another man. Did he ever! With one single, magnificent kiss, he obliterated my past and put my entire future in jeopardy. I fought for control and instead got a surprise. My heart began to steadily beat in my chest. Not the intermittent, or rushed and out of control beats since my death. This was ... normal? My preternatural blood pumped through my veins like before I'd received the bite of death. What would happen next? I decided I didn't want to know. Not right then. Not in a crowded bar. On the verge of a spontaneous orgasm, his kiss also adrenalinized me and one thing I know to be true about vamps. I'm strong! I just reacted. A bolt of raw, pure, invigorating karate energy and the next thing Coop saw was the ceiling as he lay flat on his back. To give him credit, I don't think he expected me to cut loose on him. I jumped back, pretending to worry he'd reciprocate. 33
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop sat halfway up, leaning back on his elbows with a silly grin on his face. Extraordinary. If I'd known getting his ass kicked amused him, I would've done it sooner. In the next second, his eyes darkened. "Get your gear and meet me outside. We're heading for Colombia in the morning. You can dance for Sandoval, but that's the extent of your involvement." "We're done battling for now?" I took another step back, to make it look good. Then it sunk in. I'd won! "Yes, sir," I said with a salute. I walked back to the table to grab my duffle. My luggage had already been delivered and stored at the airport. The locals remained conspicuously silent while Coop's rowdy gang made juvenile remarks about what I'd done to Coop. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the waitress duck into the restroom. "You've got a lot to learn," Coop growled over my shoulder. Maybe I should check my vampire manual. [Back to Table of Contents]
34
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 3 I pulled the shimmering gold material down over my head and let it float to touch the thick shag carpet under my gold sandals. The floor-length mirror in my posh room in Sandoval's Bogotá hotel had to be magic. The woman staring back didn't look like tomboy terror Jenna Bradley. I fought the urge to yelp. The gown cut downward over my shoulders with a wideopen vee in the front that ended at least eight inches below my waist and showed off my emerald-studded bellybutton. Since I'd soon be doing stomach undulations and shimmies, I used double-sided tape at the shoulders to keep it from falling off. The gold thong underwear made it appear as if I wore nothing from behind. Plus the dress dipped to show the crack of my ass and the two dimples on either side of it, in case anybody couldn't see through the material. In front, the small triangle of matching gold cloth on the thong saved me from showing I'm not a natural redhead. I might as well have worn a windowpane over my gold-dusted skin. My bare, overflowing C-cups would be visible for anyone who cared to look. My explosion of hair would cover them and even my ass, but I have a tendency to flip my hair. I reached up for the gold chain-link belt hanging over the corner of the mirror. The bells sounded at my touch. With a hundred tiny bells spaced an inch apart, it would make a racket when I danced. I fastened the belt low on my hips to 35
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
follow the line of my thong. The ends hung to reach the hem of the dress. "Are you tinkling?" Joe called from the main room of our hotel suite. I heard him both live and in the receiver in my ear. Joe, Coop and I would all be able to communicate via our nearly invisible transmitters and receivers. I watched myself roll my dark kohl-rimmed eyes in the mirror and almost smiled for the first time in days. I hadn't had much to make me happy since we'd arrived in Bogotá. The lame-brained idea for me to get Sandoval's attention by dancing in his club seemed more like a way to fuckin' humiliate me. I'd agreed I'd do it months earlier, when John Wilson had first broached the idea. I like to think I'm tough, but this whole getting-naked-in-front-of-everyone thing scared the undead shit out of me. After giving my hair a final tug, I strategically positioned it to cover my gold-glittered nipples. Next, I applied goldflecked lip gloss. John had thought of everything. There wouldn't be any jokes about combat boots tonight. "Are you about ready in there?" Joe called. I sat the gloss on the counter and took a deep breath. I could face a murdering vampire, but I felt squeamish about showing a little T-and-A? Well, maybe not a little. "I think I'm ready," I called out to him, then steeled myself. It'd be easy to face Joe, but Coop was another matter. The necklace John had given me at his brother's and Rosa's funeral winked at me. I touched it reverently. There 36
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
were three stones. The largest in the middle was a chatoyant or cat's eye emerald. For whatever reason, Sandoval wanted this pricey necklace. He'd bid on it at an estate auction and lost almost before I'd even been born. The idea was, if I couldn't tempt him with my body, the necklace would get his attention. When John gave it to me, he made me promise never to take it off. His assurance the necklace would eventually bring Sandoval to me had made me promise. And I'd kept my word. I didn't even take it off when I showered. I heard Joe walk into the bedroom. When I looked away from the emerald, his gaze glued to my bare ass made me cringe. Joe swallowed so hard I could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You look like you've been dipped in gold. I'm dying here." "I feel better then." I did a sarcastic whoop-tee-do doubletwirl with my rigid index finger covered with gold-glitter nail polish. "Have you heard from Coop? Is Sandoval at the hotel?" "Why don't you think about wearing your hair up or maybe shaving it off?" He gave me a funny, exaggerated wink in the mirror. "Sandoval is here. I haven't heard from Coop. He's got a bug up his ass about your involvement so don't expect much." Joe didn't have to tell me that Coop was unhappy. His absence communicated it clearly. To make matters worse, from the moment he'd kissed me, something serious had happened. I needed to know what. 37
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"How about a drink?" Joe extended his pinkie with his thumb near his mouth and rocked his hand back and forth like he was pouring from a bottle or the hang loose gesture I'd seen from half-Hawaiian Yam about a dozen times on the plane ride over. I followed Joe out into the main room to the mini-bar and waited while he made us both a drink. Joe handed me a glass of Laproaig scotch before he held his to his to nose and sniffed loudly. "I'm not a connoisseur of blended whisky," I told him before I walked onto balcony. The warm night air cocooned me. Torches burned around the Olympic-sized pool below while several people enjoyed the water. It made a nice picture, but I couldn't relax and enjoy it. "You look tense, Jenna. Want a backrub?" Joe teased as he joined me. "I'd rather kick a little ass," I told him and felt another smile start. "How about a fight instead?" "Are you two done with your lover's quarrel?" Coop's voice in the receiver hidden in my earring startled me. It was the first time I'd heard his voice since we went our separate ways at the airport two days earlier. I looked at Joe to see if he'd heard. Joe nodded at me. "Where are you?" I asked. "In the lobby with Yam. Sandoval went into the lounge a few minutes ago with his mistress. Yam and I are going to find a place to sit where we'll be able to see the show. The place is filling up, so don't be long." "We'll be down pronto," Joe said. 38
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop didn't answer. Joe put his hand under my chin and lifted until I met his hard gaze. "It's not too late. You don't have to go through with this." I shuddered despite the warm breeze. "Yes, I do." I walked back into the room, the tiny, golden bells jingling as I moved. Joe followed, took the glass from my hand and laid it on the coffee table next to his. "Ready?" he asked. "Let's get this over with." I didn't wait for him. I kept my eyes straight ahead and moved toward the door. Joe caught up at the elevator and pressed the button. When the doors slid open, there were three people inside, but I pretended the elevator was empty. They could have been standing on their heads and I wouldn't have given any indication I noticed. That was hard enough, but the walk through the crowded lobby was like walking on hot coals. But with each slow, precise step I gained strength and resolve. Every movement was measured, clear-cut and without fault. Anyone watching would believe me to be oblivious to my surroundings—and nakedness. They'd be so wrong. Coop had been on the mark about the lounge filling up. Joe had to part with several bills to get a table next to the dance floor, near where we knew Sandoval would be sitting. From the second we walked into the dimly lit, swanky nightclub, my skin crawled with fissions of heat, while the smell made me nauseous. Two feet inside the door we came face to face with a vampire. He looked like any normal, beautiful man, but 39
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
vibes like touching your tongue to a battery ran along my nerve endings. The male vamp watched me with undisguised interest in his coal black eyes. Joe reached his arm around me while we continued to walk. I couldn't be certain if Joe knew we'd just encountered our first vamp or if he went into protective mode just naturally. When we passed a table where two more vampires sat, they stopped talking to look at me. I kept my eyelids hooded, allowing Joe to lead. The wormy spirals of heat inside my undead body raged out of control and a cloud of cloying, weblike restraint shrouded me. Much worse than the battery to the tongue thing, I searched for a reason. Then I saw him. Sandoval. My maker. We walked past Sandoval and his mistress as if they didn't exist, but my body was on fire. When we were shown to our table, Joe pulled my chair out. Before I sat down, I turned into his arms and planted a kiss on his mouth. I liked Joe and I didn't mind kissing him in the least. Joe was shorter than Coop, so we almost stood nose to nose. To anyone looking, we would appear to be devoted lovers. Poor Joe. I should have told him I planned to kiss him. His arms surrounded me as I moved my body against him, fusing my mouth to his. I could taste the scotch as he opened his mouth to me. His kiss began to cool the fire in me and the invisible restraints began to lift. Joe's kiss, nothing like Coop's, gave me a way to disconnect from whatever was happening to me. I didn't want to stop, however, the large 40
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
protrusion in the front of Joe's trousers signaled trouble. When I started to pull away, for a second he resisted. At the sound of a growl from my receiver, Joe let go and reached for my chair. His eyes were dark and unreadable, almost making me wish I hadn't been so impulsive. A waiter came to ask for our drink order. "Champagne?" Joe rasped. "Only the best," I said. "After all, I do have an expense account to pad, darling." The waiter moved in for a closer view of my chest. "Your best bottle of champagne," Joe said. "Right away sir." The waiter spoke English with a heavy Colombian accent. After he left, Joe pulled my hand up to his lips and stared into my eyes. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll get even with you. You should've warned me." "A kiss, no biggie," I said and listened to Coop growl again. "No biggie? Just business." Joe looked away. "How much do you suppose their best bottle of champagne costs?" "The cost doesn't matter," I told him. "John can well afford it." The frown on his face worried me. Joe looked unhappy. "Can you hear us Coop? Where are you?" I resisted the urge to look for him since we didn't want anybody to connect the two of us until we were ready. "As long as I live, I'll remember that dress," I heard Yam say. He wasn't wearing a mic, so Coop had to be picking up the sound of Yam's voice. 41
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"The way she looks in it—the way she moves," Yam continued. "Shut the fuck up," Coop said. "Guess they're here," Joe said to me. "Guess so," I agreed. "This dance you'll do," Joe said. "It's called the dance of enticement?" "Redundant, isn't it?" I shrugged. The see-through dress over my naked gold body was all the enticement anyone needed. "Maybe overkill is more appropriate." Joe stroked his chin between his thumb and forefinger like he had a beard. I could see the wheels turning behind his gray eyes. I just couldn't tell what direction they were headed. If his mood was about a single kiss, I didn't know what to do about it, and this wasn't the time to worry. "There are two seats opening up at the bar," Coop said. "Yam and I will be over there. Jenna, it's a direct route to the ladies room. Let's get this show on the road. Make your lover jealous." "I already am." Joe finally smiled, but his eyes stayed dark. Our cover story, Joe and I on a lover's holiday, seemed real now that he was pissed at me. When I stood, I caught sight of Yam. Easy enough since he's a very big boy. I headed his way. Every step sent a signal. My movements vibrated the bells in a unique siren song. As I walked, I could feel the caress of my hair swinging at my ass. Then, I saw Coop—a different kind of Coop. 42
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
My breath caught in my throat. Not that Coop had looked like he'd spent time in Turkish prison, all tortured and grosslooking before, but he'd for sure captured the market on badboy-biker-rugged. Now he was GQ-edible-eye-candy. That was the moment I found myself immersed in as I looked at Coop. It sucked any air I might have left, right out of my gold chest. My golden girls pointed to him like they thought I hadn't already seen him. Dressed in black Armani, accented with a crisp, white, tailored shirt open at the throat to expose the dark hair on his chest, Coop looked so delicious my mouth started to water and I started to caress myself in public until I realized. His long hair, always pulled back tight, hung free over his shoulders in shining mass of glorious black. His eyes narrowed as he watched my approach. The nude-gold dress stroked me with each step until I vibrated with need. My desire had to be visible. I could feel it shimmering in the air around me. It had a force strong enough to make people stand back to make way for me. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked as soon as I came close enough for him to speak. I hesitated and then stopped just like we'd planned. "Have we met?" "In my dreams," Coop answered. "How about that drink?" "I'm sorry, but I'm with someone. Maybe another time." I reached out to touch his chest and gave him a slow, seductive smile. With the contact, my heart pumped in my chest so hard I nearly fell on my ass when I jerked my hand away. What had happened in the bar hadn't been an aberration. 43
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
This man had some sort of power over me. I continued on my way, hoping my confusion didn't show. Having a heartbeat is a valuable part of staying healthy. I'd always taken it for granted. I let my hips sway from side to side in an invitation to distract anyone watching too closely. With the extra hip motion, my hair swished back and forth caressing my bottom, first one cheek, then the other to add another little twist of torment. I was the one being tormented. "Unbelievable," I heard Coop say. "What just happened? Hell if I knew! "She lifts a man out of the ordinary and takes him to the secret place of golden dreams—and then leaves him wanting more." The bitterness in Joe's voice made me question my tactics earlier with him. "She can hear every word you're saying. Let's keep our eyes on the prize," I said. "I don't forget for a second why I'm here, and it has nothing to do with fucking golden dreams." Coop was angry, probably with me. "Welcome to my hotel. I trust you are enjoying your visit?" A surge of adrenaline coursed through my body and shoved everything else aside. Sandoval! It had to be Sandoval's voice since this was his hotel. Was he speaking to Joe or Coop? "Your hotel?" Joe's voice. "I am Carlos Sandoval, and you..." "I'm Luis Garcia," Joe said, giving his alias. "What brings you to Bogotá?" 44
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"I'm here on business and relaxation. I'm Ms. Bradshaw's personal assistant." Joe used my alias. Not that the name Jenna Bradley meant anything to Sandoval, but Joe wanted to take precautions. "I see," Sandoval said. His tone said he understood Joe's place in life and wasn't interested in any further conversation with him. "Enjoy your stay." "Well?" Joe said after a while. "You got want you wanted." "Exactly what we'd hoped for," Coop said. "Sandoval noticed Jenna and isn't worried about Joe." After a brief visit to the ladies room I walked back, but this time I stopped when I came to Coop. "I'm ready for that drink," I said, moving close enough that he should feel the sexual energy pouring off of me. "Maybe we could make it a private one?" I ran my hand down his chest over his silk shirt, stopping just shy of his Johnson or so I thought. However, it grew. Like magic, I had a hand full. It was all I could do to keep from grabbing for more. What do you do when you're suddenly faced with holding a man's cock in public? I let go and slowly moved my hand up to hook my fingers into his waistband. "What's your boyfriend going to say about this?" Coop said, loudly enough for people to hear if they were so inclined. "Why don't I tell him and see?" I leaned into him, letting him feel the rub of my breasts, before I tilted my head to kiss the hollow at the front of his throat. In that moment I torched myself like a stick of dynamite and then walked away, wondering what it had done to him. 45
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Be strong," Joe whispered. I didn't know if he meant Coop or me. "This is only the beginning." [Back to Table of Contents]
46
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 4 As I neared Sandoval's table on my way back to Joe, a suffocating aura came over me like a fishing net. My arms dropped stiffly to my sides and my feet didn't want to move. Sandoval stood and approached me, tightening the invisible hold on me with each step. The vampire was as handsome as a movie star, although on the prissy side for my taste. ::Prissy side? Ms. Bradshaw? I don't know the name, but I recognize the smell of your blood.:: Like I'd had ice water thrown on me, Carlos Sandoval's voice inside my head chilled me to the marrow. "One and the same," I said. "And you are?" He laughed, coming close enough to touch me. ::You know me. I smell my mark on you.:: "Jenna, what's going on?" Coop demanded. Sandoval reached for my hand, and I couldn't stop it rising from my side to meet his. Suddenly a puppet with Sandoval pulling the strings, I had a newfound fear for my maker. His touch hurt and his control made me quake in my fancy sandals. A suffocating sweet taste filled my mouth. "So enchanting." Sandoval reached up to touch the side of my neck in the place he'd sunk his teeth nearly a year earlier. ::Yes, you wear my mark.:: "That necklace is becoming. If you don't mind my asking, how did you come by it?" He took a step closer to examine it. "Let's say it's a gift from a special friend and leave it at that. One who is exceedingly generous to me." 47
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop huffed in my receiver. Jealously? ::Don't resist me, weak one. You're mine to do with as I will.:: "Give me the necklace." Sandoval spoke aloud and adopted a sterner tone. Clearly, he believed I'd obey. The hair on the back of my neck bristled because I wanted to give him the necklace. My fingers were inching up, but I resisted. "It's mine for now. Who's to say what'll transpire in the future, but tonight it belongs to me." Sandoval looked peeved and more than a little perplexed his power over me didn't immediately give him what he wanted. "Perhaps we could talk in private. Come with me." I began to burn. My skin was on fire. A tightness surrounded me so suffocating I couldn't move if I wanted to. Did I dare resist? Hell, yes. "I don't think so. I'm not here alone." His rage became visible. His eyes began to glow. He bared his teeth and started for my throat. I tried with everything I had and couldn't move anything but my mouth. "Back off, cocksucker." "How about that drink you promised me?" Coop's arm looped around my waist and drew me away from Sandoval. ::I'll rip his heart out. Come with me.:: Sandoval's hold over me lessened with Coop's arm around me. "That's impossible. My evening is planned. I've arranged a sightseeing trek from Santa Marta to El Pajáro the day after tomorrow so I need to be on a plane in the morning. I'll be there for several days, enjoying the beautiful beaches. Shall I send you a message when I return?" 48
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"My country estate is near Villanueva. Perhaps we could visit at my estate?" Sandoval reached out to touch my arm, but Coop pulled me tighter against him. My heartbeat became normal and strong. Sandoval's control eased. So much so, I reached up to caress Coop's arm. No way did I want Sandoval to touch me if he had such power over me with just his mind. "Perhaps. I'll leave the address where I can be reached at the front desk for you. Will your lady friend be coming also?" I stared pointedly at his angry mistress, now headed in our direction with teeth visible. When the mistress stared back at me, her eyes glowed with undisguised hate. Her red lips pulled into a thin smile to reveal the tips of her sharp teeth. How many other vampires surrounded us? There was so much I didn't know. "Everything alright, guys?" Joe asked in my receiver. Sandoval stepped in front of his woman, turning his back on me. With his attention drawn away and Coop's arm about me, the invisible hold he had on me lifted completely. I fell back against Coop, suddenly weak as a kitten, and thankful he'd caught me and held me tight to his body. He had to wonder why I'd been so affected by Sandoval. Or would he think I'd been overcome by his charms. I couldn't take a chance he would guess my secret. "I may've had a little too much to drink." "Is that true?" Coop wasn't talking to me. "Maybe," Joe responded. "Stay close to me," Coop said. 49
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I glanced back to Sandoval's table. He was arguing with his woman in loud Spanish. I guess even vampires can be pussy whipped, too. I pulled out of Coop's embrace and headed back toward Joe, away from Coop before I humiliated myself. My need for him was almost as suffocating as the spell Sandoval held over me. The sensuous music Sandoval's mistress would dance to began to play and other dancers left the floor. This gave me no time to get control. Show time. I got there before she did and began slow circles around the edge of the dance floor until I came to Coop and stopped in front of him. I could see Sandoval's mistress coming toward me, but Sandoval restrained her. I turned a slow circle with my hips, revolving to the ancient beat. They call this the dance of enticement for good reason. I looked straight at Coop while I danced. He moved onto the floor where it would visible to all I performed only for him. I'd put the same dedication into learning this one belly dance that I'd put into everything else over the past year. Each move hit the mark. Each thrust I made showed in his face. Each slow, sensual gyration awakened us both and methodically incinerated us. And it scared the shit out of me! I passed both hands in front of my eyes and spread my index and middle fingers apart to form a V-mask. My palms were forward and my eyes bored into him, searching, probing, and penetrating into him, going deeper with each 50
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
rotation of my hips. The bells on my belt kept time to the music with each swirling, jerking thrust of the dance. Everyone else in the room began to fade. Sandoval—gone. Nothing mattered but Coop. It was as if I physically touched him each undulation of my belly. The air vibrated with my undulating movements and, like a sorcerer's enchantment, everyone in the room did disappear. Only Coop and I remained. I moved closer, my hips spoke an ancient language of desire and passion. Each step brought me nearer to my own deliverance from torture and ensnared my prey. No more loneliness if he reached out to me. No more living a half existence. He only had to meet me halfway. I entered an alternative realm when I looked into Coop's eyes. The music and the dance all fused together in my mind. Each step pealed back a layer of my psyche, bringing me down to the most basic state of instinct and need. Nothing mattered at that moment but pleasing him, touching him, caressing his soul the way he stroked mine. The entire earth on its axis came to a careening stop—turned and switched directions. Nobody knew except me. Not even Coop. Not yet. He would. Finally, I drew near enough to touch him. The tempo of the music built. I came as near as I could without initiating physical contact. I breathed the faint spice and musky scent that I recognized uniquely as his from when we'd danced in 51
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
the seedy bar in Arizona. The crescendo built while I undulated within inches of him. Harder. Faster. Very soon the music would end, and my life would be changed. Nothing would be the same. I danced around him, fueled by the heat radiating from him, my undead blood boiling in my veins like it hadn't since Sandoval first bit me. When I came back around to face him, I stared into his deep blue eyes and found need so intense it almost made me hesitate. He had secrets, things I didn't want any part of. I didn't have a future with him, but my body told me I'd captured the here and now with him. I turned my back to him, raising my arms above my head, and slowly undulated in a circle around him and then again. Turning to face him, I unhurriedly brought my fingers down to touch his cheek as my hips rushed to completion. At his sharp intake of breath, I moved both hands to his chest and cupped them over his heart. My hips circled metrically in the ancient method of enticement. I came closer, until the movement of my hips gyrated against him. He trembled beneath my hands still lying over his heart. His hard cock welcomed me. Again I raised my arms in the air, pivoted to turn my back to him and rotate my backside against the bold evidence of his arousal. The crowd started to cheer. As if we'd rehearsed the move, Coop caught both of my still-raised hands in his and held them tightly. I could feel him moving against me, 52
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
anticipating the thrusts of my hips. If we were naked and alone, he'd be in my ass. He freed one of his hands and moved it languidly down, along the inside of my arm and over the peak of my breast until it rested on my waist, his fingers splayed across my undulating belly. The contractions of my muscles became so intense that my release began in tweaking spurts, growing stronger with the music. My breath came in pants. The dance. Coop. The receiver in my ear magnified the effect of my own labored breath and his. At the final beat of the music, he jerked me around and captured my lips. The crowd roared, but I couldn't think. I could only feel. The contractions burst as his kiss deepened. He crushed me against him and I exploded. Tiny squeaks came out of my throat as wave after wave hit me. I wanted to crawl inside him. I wanted him over me, in me, surrounding me. He kissed me for as long as it took for the throbbing quake of pleasure to subside. It seemed like an eternity. All the while, the patrons cheered and jeered at our public performance. I was doing publicly what I'd never done privately. Even in my wild youth, I'd never had a spontaneous orgasm. In public? In the middle of a dangerous mission? What next? 53
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
[Back to Table of Contents]
54
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 5 My past was a hazy memory, my future uncertain, but tonight I intended to live. I intended to capture an entire lifetime in this single night. Some men called for me not to leave, while others cheered me on. None of them mattered. Only Coop. I sped for the elevator, but it was Coop's hand that hit the button, repeatedly, as if he could make it come faster that way. After the fourth time, he pounded on it, he pulled me into his arms and crushed my lips with his. I lost myself in his kiss and didn't hear the doors open. Coop wrapped his arms more tightly around me and lifted until my feet no longer touched the ground before he walked us both inside. I didn't open my eyes. I didn't think. If there was anyone in the elevator, they didn't say anything. I didn't care. I only wanted to keep kissing Coop. Forever. "Hurry," I whispered into his mouth. He gathered me in his arms again and walked us. Joe's voice brought me back to reality. "Jenna?" Coop spoke for me. "Jenna's fine. Is everything all right on your end?" "Sandoval is heading this..." Joe stopped talking. We kept moving down the hallway toward the door to Coop's room. I needed him inside me so badly I wanted to scream. 55
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"It would seem you've lost your employer. Perhaps you need some assistance?" Sandoval's voice was faint above the din of the crowded lounge. "She's done this before. I'll catch up with her in Santa Marta after she has a couple of days to tire of her new toy." Joe sounded convincing, if not a little jaded. "I live near Santa Marta. Perhaps I shall see the two of you there. Where did you say that you'll be staying?" "We rented a villa on the beach in El Pajáro. It belongs to Francesca Rodriguez Vasquez. I haven't seen it, but I'm told it's nice." "I know the place," Sandoval said. "As I said, perhaps we will see each other there." There was a long pause before anything else could be heard besides the clamor of the crowd and the pop of a champagne cork. "Let's toast to success," Joe said. "Success," Coop repeated. "See you in El Pajáro tomorrow night." With that, Coop eased me down to my feet, reached up and then removed the silver skull that held his receiver in his ear. I leaned into him all the while with my hands on his broad chest, afraid my legs wouldn't hold me. Coop smiled. "I think we've heard enough of Joe for one night." He pulled the transmitter from his collar and rammed it, along with his earring, into his pants pocket. "She's fine," Coop said again as he whispered into my ear and then tugged at the earring. I understood and pulled back to remove both. Coop put them in his pocket with his before he opened the door to my room and ushered me inside, locking it behind us. 56
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Dance for me," he whispered. Instantly, the urgent beat returned to me, the cadence of the music rang in my ears. I began to move to a primitive sound only lovers can hear. I took a couple of steps away, loosened my belt and freed my dress to fall to the floor at my sandaled feet. I pulled my hair upwards and raised it with my hands above my head and swayed to the rhythm I wanted to perform on Coop's cock. I wanted to abandoned myself to Coop and revel in feeling normal for the first time in over a year, but a curious thing happened. I heard Carlos Sandoval moan in my head. I could've sworn Carlos was in pain. I didn't mind his suffering, but I didn't want him invading my thoughts right then. Coop didn't wait for an invitation as he shed his clothes. He kicked off his loafers, shrugged out of the black silk Armani suit jacket and then it tossed onto a nearby chair. When he unzipped his pants and let them drop to his ankles, I lost it. Commando! I couldn't wait. I didn't want slow. I threw myself against him. He lifted me, pressed my back tight against the wall and ripped off the thong. I wrapped my legs around his waist. His large cock pushed against me. Probing. I ached for him to enter me. Anticipation had me ready to shatter from pleasure so sweet it almost hurt. Carlos groaned inside my head for a second time. Damn! I was having an unwelcome threesome. Coop powered into me. Exquisite torture rocked me while my body adjusted and accepted him deeper until he filled me. "Oh, yes! Yes!" 57
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I held on by thread. He buried his head into my shoulder and groaned. He trembled so intensely I began to shake, too. He didn't move as he impaled me against the wall. The pressure built and still he hadn't moved. Like a swollen dike I burst open. He groaned and began to swivel his hips into me. Thrusting into me. Hard, deep thrusts sent me soaring into the bliss. Unfurling waves of pleasure took me where I'd never been and couldn't have imagined. Unrestrained spasms peaked and subsided, only to peak again as he walked me across the floor and laid me on the bed, never leaving my cunt empty. For the first time in my life, I understood the true meaning of multi-orgasmic. The ecstasy never left. With the slap of his balls against my skin while he pumped in and out with boundless energy, I climbed toward another orgasm. And still he fucked me. One orgasm built on the previous one, taking me just a little bit higher each time. By the time he roared with his release, I'd experienced several orgasms that were in actuality one long, continuous one that never stopped. Coop looked down at me with a mixture of rapture and wide-eyed curiosity written on his face. "Was that my imagination?" "Very succinctly put. Pretty in-fucking-credible." **** I could get used to this, I said to myself. Or had I said it out loud? It had taken Coop almost no time to get it up again. 58
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Am I moving too fast?" Coop asked with sexy grin before he kissed the side of my neck and inched down to my collarbone while he drove his cock home. Oh, baby! I wanted to whimper. I didn't. "Is this slow enough? I already know how much you like it slow," he asked, but I couldn't see if he was grinning at me this time because his face had moved to my breast. Since nothing we'd done so far remotely qualified as slow, I knew he teased. He eased in and out of my cunt like a pro. He filled me so completely I couldn't ask for more. I couldn't see anything through the haze of starlight in my brain from the pleasure building below. My bet was I'd soon be having a flaming explosion, and he'd only just started. "I like this," he said. "I can tell you're ready. I don't think I've ever been this in sync with a woman. Your pussy grabs hold tight when you come." With attention on the pleasure, on the sensory focus that would help him pull my trigger, I didn't want to talk. He raised his head to stare into my eyes, hooked his fingers over my shoulders from behind and thrust again hard. Somehow, he knew I was on the edge and was playing with me. This is what I got for allowing him to be the one on top. That could be changed. I turned and took him down. Before he knew what hit him, I was on top. He stretched and put his hands behind his head. Cocky bastard. I could make him come faster than he wanted, or die trying. Oops, already dead. I began to ride him until the smirk left his face. I got going good. This time when I came I was determined to bring him 59
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
along. No sissy, little squeeze contractions for me. I rode him harder. I could feel the beginning of a deep pelvic push-out and knew I was about to get the big one. "That's the spirit," he said. "You want to see spirit?" I didn't wait for his answer as I pushed myself against him and gave it to him harder. The slap of my ass against his thighs grew louder and faster. He quit talking. Or so I thought. "This scares the shit out of me," he said, and I lost my momentum again. "I'd sooner look down the barrel of your Firestorm or whatever you're carrying than face you in public in that dress again." When he stayed quiet, I focused again and eased him in and out like a rabbit. I almost had him before he opened his mouth again. "I nearly had a heart attack when I first saw you. I'll never forget it as long as I live. The way you looked or how you danced. You set my soul on fire and I'm still burning. If all you have to give me is one night, I'll take it and be grateful for it. How do you feel about what's about to happen?" What's about to happen? I'm about to come and that's all I wanted to think about. I thought maybe I was hallucinating. Now wasn't the time for a chat. "Can you feel my gratitude?" he asked and pushed his hips up to meet my dissent. His cock was magic. I'd never experienced anything this good. Out of control—good. Fuck me forever—good. "Shut up," I panted. "But..." 60
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Man, oh, man, he was begging for the duct tape. "I'm just inches away from feeling your complete gratitude if you could just shut the fuck up." "Good," he said with a grin. Then his face turned dark, like someone playing with a light switch. I watched his release as his face twisted into half-grimace—half grin and his log spewed forth a torrent of cum and then another. His release pushed me over the edge, except Coop grew cross-eyed while waiting for me to finish. Yeah! I think I may have yodeled. "Are you ready to talk about what happened with Sandoval now?" I was fresh out of ideas for putting off the inevitable conversation following sex, short of taking his limp cock in my mouth. When I licked my lips as I stared at it listing off the side of his hip, Coop moved away. "No more distractions, Jenna. We need to talk. What was going on between the two of you?" "Everything I know about vampires comes from books. How could he have gotten inside my head?" Coop stared at me, not answering. It chilled me to the marrow to think I'd blown it. "Is that what was happening? He talked to you?" "It was so clear at first I thought it was my transmitter." "There's a couple of reasons ... no, three I can think of. First, he left his mark on you, but that's not something you would've neglected to tell us." This is when I knew I could make a fortune with a gig playing poker. He was like a hawk looking for a "tell." 61
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Or he's put his mark on someone whose blood is also in your veins. Someone you'd donated blood to for a transfusion?" I shrugged like it could a possibility. "Last, but not likely. You've marked him." Coop chuckled. I'd never heard of the second option. There was so much I didn't know. "I've donated blood." He nodded. "That would be my guess. It could've come from your friend, Rosa." "She fell in basic training and split her head open. I shared my blood with her. We had the same type." His eyes darkened. There was something he wasn't saying. Something I wouldn't like, no doubt. "Vampirism isn't like lycanthropy. It's not a virus. It's death, the living dead. I don't like Sandoval having power over you. He tried to get the necklace." I didn't try to deny it, but I must've looked like a zombie woodenly wrestling with the thing. "He wanted it, that's certain." "We need to find out why. Maybe you shouldn't wear it from now on." "I promised John I wouldn't take it off. Besides, it's good to know Sandoval wants it. Now that I've been honest with you, is there anything you haven't shared with me?" What a hypocrite. I was almost ashamed of myself until a guilty look flashed across his face. There was something. "How do you feel about fucking a werewolf?" [Back to Table of Contents] 62
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 6 "Allow me," Coop said, snaking an arm over top of me to open my car door. "If you don't stop being so polite I'm going to go off on you, and it won't be pretty," I told him. Everything had changed with his confession. I really tried to be pissed, but I hadn't exactly been honest with him ... still. Then again, I don't make it my profession to kill werewolves. This man fucking kills vampires ... my kind ... sorta. I respect the fact most werewolves have shown themselves to be honest, law-abiding citizens. I just hadn't planned to sleep with one. Plus there was the added distraction from sunlight. While I can go out in it, it makes me half-sick. And it drains me, but doesn't fry me. "I guess this is what happens when you don't get your beauty sleep." "No, this how I get when someone takes the wrong road and I'm facing that." I nodded at the rickety bridge. He'd given me the choice of walking across or staying in the car with him while he drove over it, but I really didn't have a problem with the bridge. I'd had too much quiet time on the drive for self-reflection and regret, fueled by Coop's surly attitude and covered over by perfect manners all morning. "I know we're playing the part of typical tourists exploring the countryside, but this taking it too far."
63
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"I didn't take a wrong road. I purposely came this way to avoid a car behind us. You know we can't take any chances of being trapped in an isolated area." "Right," I said with a sniff. "Make up your mind, princess. We don't have all day." "Jerk." "I think it would be better if you get out and walk on ahead. The added weight could send us plummeting." That was it. I knocked his arm away and opened my own door. What in the world had I done? I'd had sex with a werewolf. And Lord only knows the repercussions. It's a virus for crissakes. Can the undead catch a virus? I stepped onto the wooden slats held by rope, suspended over the ravine and heard it groan under me. Great. We had no problems until we flew into Santa Marta on the red-eye and found Yam already occupying our room at the lovely Costa Azul Beach Hotel. Things went downhill fast after that. I can't blame it on Yam, however. The minute Yam looked at me and raised his head to howl, I'd had enough. When I demanded to know how many of them were werewolves, I didn't like the answer. All of them. Except for Joe. Raul—A hunk, twenty-eight, dark hair, cut short, and tattooed. I wanted to pinch his tight tush every time I looked at him. Full-blooded Latino, he'd been raised in East LA with three of the other guys. And a werewolf!
64
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Yam—Half-Latino, half-Hawaiian and a very big, greatlooking guy. He'd puked in my boot the night I first met them when Coop brought me to their barracks. Werewolf. Jorgé—Half-Japanese, quarter-Latino, quarter-Irish, and hot. Hot. Hot. And ... very hot werewolf. Hawk—The youngest member of Slayers Inc. Full-Latino, wild Mohawk, twenty-three, but looked younger and a player. He might be really good looking, but I didn't know. The only time I looked his direction, he copped an attitude. Estaban—Part-Latino, other parts unknown, and a doll. Quiet and shy and just turned thirty. Werewolf. Chevy—Latino and gorgeous. The kind of guy who turns heads, but doesn't know it. Slayers, Inc's. oldest at thirtyfour. Werewolf. Regrets can be an ugly bitch. Who knew vampire hunters could be werewolves? I marched across the bridge and stood on the opposite edge of the gorge to wave Coop over. He slowed the jeep to a crawl and started across the creaking wooden structure. I turned my back to him so he couldn't see my face. I wouldn't want him to think I worried about him. He pull up next to me, set the brake, cut the motor and jumped out of the Jeep to look down the mountain, back the way we'd come. "Shit." I moved over his shoulder to see what was getting him so angry. "Things just took a turn for the worse," he said. "Someone is following us." I hopped back into my seat. "Who? Sandoval?" 65
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Cooped jumped over my head and into his seat. I guess now that he's out of the closet he'll be doing all sorts of tricks. He started the motor and gunned it. "Could be. But vamps don't travel by day." He floored it, making the motor and gears scream in protest. The back end fishtailed and spewed dirt into the air. We climbed the mountain faster than I believed possible. Pico Critóbal Colón is not a small mountain. On a scale of one to ten, I'd say eight. After a half-hour roller-coaster ride from hell, I couldn't talk. I didn't know if I was scarred for life from the neardismemberment experience down one set switchbacks and up another. I gave up counting how many times we nearly went over the edge. When Coop stopped at another wooden bridge similar to the earlier one we'd crossed, I stuck my head over the door and barfed. Not because he'd scared the shit out of me—I get motion sickness. That and the stinking sun ... Really. "Be careful you don't step in that when you get out," he said. As if. I stepped out and started across the bridge when he yelled at me to stop. "Let's head down on this side," he said, pointing down the ravine. "I must've missed something. You think you can drive down there?" "Yeah, right." I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a look that would have singed a normal man. But Coop was a werewolf. "I want answers." 66
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"If it's someone Sandoval hired, they know this country," he said, as if he was talking to a child. "We don't, no matter how many hours we spent examining maps. They might be close on our tail right now. We need to make it harder for them to find us. Grab everything you can carry." "What about our gear?" I asked, but I really meant what about my guns? I had shipped an assortment of my best artillery and I didn't want to lose them. I understood what Coop meant. If Sandoval or anybody could trap us in the mountains alone, the rules would change. It would be a bloody battle. "We'll take only what we can carry, leave the clothes and buy something in Santa Marta. So what do you think? How far can you hoof it without complaining?" "We're going back to Santa Marta? They won't be expecting that. What happened to Villanueva?" "Under the circumstances, we'd never make it. It's closer to turn back. Now answer my question. Can you do this?" I didn't know how a vampire stacked up to werewolf in strength and endurance. Who would? "I ran in a marathon a few months ago. Of course, that was without my guns. I'm not about to leave them." Coop walked to the side of the car and leaned over the door to grab a map. He spread it out on the hood of the Jeep and mentally calculated out loud. "Team Two is here." He waited until I looked at where he pointed his finger. It worried me that he clued me in now, but only with an ulterior motive. Maybe he needed me to see where to meet up with the team in case something happened to him. 67
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"We'd be moving downhill most of the way," I said after a long pause. "What about this?" "There's a bridge here and here." Coop pointed out the known crossings. "A lot of times we'll find rope bridges crossing the ravines that aren't on the map. When we get within twenty miles or so we'll be able to contact the team by radio and have them pick us up. So I make it about forty miles, maybe less since a good portion will be down the side of the mountain. "There are two roads here." He rested his finger on a spot we'd just passed. "I came this way hoping to throw them off. We normally would've gone here." Another tap on the map. "What about going off-road? There's bound to be goat paths that aren't on any map." I put my head down and studied it in earnest. "If we use the Jeep, they will be able to follow us that much easier. On foot we can cover our tracks." "This is about the damned necklace!" I cursed. "I should have left well enough alone and only used my body as bait." It was the story of my life. If one firecracker blew off Ken's sorry-ass equipment, then why not use five? So what if I started a fire in the antique quilt on my bed. The water from the waterbed put it out. I never quit while I'm ahead. "We don't know for certain it's about the necklace. One thing at a time. First we need to find a way to throw them off our tracks. If we just abandon the vehicle, they'll know. If we send the Jeep on a trip down the mountain by itself, maybe they'll think we crashed and killed ourselves." 68
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Here then?" I asked and walked back over to the side. "Looks like a couple thousand feet down." "More or less. This mountain is over nineteen-thousand feet." "We have rope, don't we?" I asked, since I remembered seeing some in the back. "Not that much rope. Are you sure you're up to this? Rappelling down the side of a mountain isn't as easy as it looks." "You think it looks easy?" He laughed at that. "It would save us hours if you think you're up to it." Coop pulled a set of binoculars out of a bag and used them to peruse the countryside. "Still no sign of company. You better tuck that braid down the back of your shirt so you don't get it hung up in the undergrowth. Then again, we could always use it for extra rope." I turned my back on him and resisted the impulse to give him the finger. I inched closer to the edge of the ravine. The vegetation grew in thick clumps all the way down. It would both hurt and help us. It would be good cover, but rough going. I walked back to the Jeep and tore through my clothes looking for long pants. "We'll send the Jeep off here and make it look like the bridge collapsed. I hate to do that to the locals, but that's why I took the least traveled route. Then we make our way up the road a couple of hundred yards before we head down into the ravine. Get what you want out of the back." I hurried through my bag, removing most of the clothes. "I found this when Joe and I went shopping the day we arrived 69
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
in Bogotá," I said holding up a gun box. "I don't have a holster for it yet." "Most women go shopping for clothes or jewelry, and you buy guns." "It was on sale," I said. Coop opened the box and looked inside. "You can't leave this behind. It's like the Cadillac of handguns." "I thought that, until my custom 1911." Coop picked up the SIG and examined it more closely. We didn't have time for dickin' around, but I could see he admired the P210. "Empty everything from the box and stick it in my duffle. I'll carry the extra weight." "I bought it, I'll carry it. The extra clips and ammo weigh as much as the gun. It's probably no more than four pounds in all." "Let's see. You're carrying a 1911, a mini-G, a.38 Special, a Firestorm, a 1911 and a Tomcat." He watched as I removed the gun from the case and snapped a clip into the grip. "And don't forget I'm a werewolf. I can handle the extra weight." I wanted to say, I'm a vampire, I can handle it myself. But since his chosen profession was to kill vampires, I didn't dare. "I gave the Firestorm and the.38 to Joe. Yam has the mini-G. You forgot my G19 with the silencer and sights and the SIG." "You aren't leaving your dress behind, are you?" "Where would I wear something like that again?" Coop packed and repacked the gear while I changed clothes. I watched as he readjusted his G27 at his waist and his.38 on his ankle. He had a M16 sub-machine gun slug over his shoulder with ammo belts crisscrossing his chest. He had 70
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
a knife at his hip and one attached to his boot. He pulled a CCU, carbine conversion unit, out of his duffle, along with several full clips of ammo. I put all the ammo I could carry, along with my sights and silencer into my backpack. While I finished packing, Coop carried our gear across the bridge. A couple of seconds later, I followed him over. He walked back and drove the Jeep onto the bridge. "Stay back. I'm setting a charge. It'll be relatively silent, but the splinters could fly in all directions." Splinters? I so didn't like the sound of that. I hit the ground and got a mouth-full of dirt. But the sound of the collapsing bridge didn't compare to the racket the Jeep caused as it smashed into trees on the way down the mountain. The crash echoed through the canyon below. I joined Coop at the edge and looked down to see leaves and branches floating in the air, but I couldn't see the Jeep. "Let's get going," he told me, and grabbed his gear. "Where did you put the stakes?" Guns would slow a vampire down, but not kill them. I followed along behind, walking lightly in his footsteps as I concentrated on not leaving a trail. "I have them safe. We'll descend here," he said after a quarter of a mile and then gave me time to fish my gloves out my bag. The foliage was so dense I couldn't even see where the bridge used to be. We soon discovered it was almost impenetrable when we tied ourselves together and began to descend. "Watch the rope doesn't get tangled," he said. "We don't want to leave it here as evidence for someone to find." 71
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
As if. Who would hang around on the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere? Not even vampires were that stupid. We worked our way down the mountain without talking. Sound could carry for miles. The insects and birds made such a racket it reminded me of a big city noise during rush hour. I didn't complain once, even when we were both drenched in sweat and bloodied with cuts from the sharp leaves and branches. If Coop thought I'd say something about all the strange insects we saw, I proved him wrong. At one point we came upon a pale green snake coiled around a branch. Either Coop didn't see it or he was afraid to tell me. I don't know. I considered pulling my gun to shoot it, but it left me alone, so I did likewise. Frankly, if I had a choice between a green snake and squawking green parrot, I'd take the snake. The parrots made such a racket they gave me a headache. And they were testy about us invading their space. We were about fifty feet from the canyon floor when it started to rain. It poured so hard I had to mentally think through every inch I moved to keep from falling. "Slow down and take your time," Coop said. "Like I have a choice." These weren't drops falling on us. The broad leaves that would fill and then intermittently dump their loads on us added drama only magnified by the straight down sheets of pouring water unlike any rain I'd known. "Are we almost there yet?" I asked after what seemed to be an hour of torture. My gear went from brutally heavy to impossible once everything I wore and carried sucked up the downpour. 72
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"It's not what you had in mind, is it?" he said when we eventually reached the bottom. I leaned over with my hands on my knees, while the rain beat the back of my head. This was a thousand times better than being in the sun, but I wasn't about to share that newsflash with him. I straightened to stare at him. "It's not the first thing to happen on this trip that's surprised me." "We need to keep moving. Fast. Let me know if you can't keep up." Coop didn't wait for me. Nor did he glance back, not even once. "Another snake," Coop said. Had he read my mind? When Coop eventually stopped, he unclipped the radio from his belt. "I'll see if we're close enough to reach the team." "You do that." I walked away to find a private tree while he tried to reach the team. A secluded tree marked "Ladies" would be good. One that didn't have a snake in residence. By the time I returned, Coop had re-clipped the radio to his waist and was tapping the side of his submachine gun impatiently. "Didn't you reach them?" I asked. "They're on their way. They told me where we could find an isolated hut a few miles north of here along a creek. We'll wait for them there." "How would they know that?" "Chevy has a lot of contacts in the area. His cousin uses the place from time to time when she visits the local tribesmen. She's a nurse and she brings them medicine and supplies." 73
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"And the tribesmen in the area are impervious to vampires?" "Like most people across the globe, the tribe hates vampires. There's no way Sandoval has any influence over them." Coop looked up into the sky. "The rain is letting up." "It's going to be dark soon," I said and started to walk. "When is the next full moon?" "Wrong direction," he called out. "It's too bad you didn't tell me that before last night." The emotional path I'd taken when I fucked him was far worse. And then if hit me. The reason I was so pissed had nothing to do with him being a werewolf. How in the world could I pretend I hadn't fallen in love with him? I'd been kidding myself all along. I'd fallen in love before I'd even met him. Ex-cop-turned-vampire, too-damned-tough-for-her-owngood, Jenna Bradley—in love with a werewolf who hunts vampires for a living. Just great. Of all the things that could happen, this had to be the absolute worst. A sound to my right elicited a knee-jerk reaction to pull my gun, drop to one knee, and chambered a round. I trained my weapon toward the sound and didn't look to see what Coop did. One of our men, Jorgé, slid around a tree with his hands raised in the air and a smile on his face. "I surrender." Since he was the only man who hadn't told me to get lost when I'd first joined them, I let him live. I turned back to glare at Coop. "I'm happy to know that at least you didn't have a load in the tube," he said. "I'd been afraid to ask." 74
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I checked the safety and holstered my weapon with the bullet still in the chamber. Coop rewarded me with dark brows pulled into a single tight line. I shrugged. "What happened to meeting you guys at a hut along the river?" I asked. Another of the men, Chevy, walked up to join us. "We've got trouble, Coop. Could be big." "You never answered me," I said to Coop. "When is the next full moon, and what the hell happens then?" [Back to Table of Contents]
75
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 7 "This is making me nervous as hell," Chevy said. He clenched his fists in an outward display of frustration. Chevy and gorgeous Jorgé sat across a rickety table from Coop and me, in a ramshackle hut hidden in the middle of a rain forest. Both had deep frowns on their faces. The rest, Yam, Joe, Raul, Hawk, and Estaban were either still in the countryside or back in Santa Marta. "All bets are off," Coop said. "We need to regroup. I don't like being followed." "It's about this necklace," I told them as I fingered it under my shirt. "Sandoval wanted it years and years ago. And he still wants it, maybe more than John Wilson and I first thought." "Maybe that's all it is." Chevy relaxed his fist before he poured another cup of coffee and held the pot out toward Coop. I reached out my cup. I'd had enough caffeine, but Chevy made a good cup of coffee. "We'll soon find out," Coop answered. He poured a cup and knocked it over. The coffee soaked into the pitted wood and disappeared. "Joe will be at the villa in El Pajáro waiting for Jenna," he said, with a sigh that spelled exasperation. "We need to get word to him our plans have changed." "So I go back to Santa Marta in the morning and see if I can get word to Joe," I said. I was glad I finally had something to add to the conversation. I sniffed the air. Even 76
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
with the strong smell of coffee, I could tell I needed a bath. We'd trekked nonstop for hours, only to end up in a one-room hut with a dirt floor in the middle of nowhere. Running water and modern amenities were about a century or so away. The sound of a burro braying told us we were about to have unscheduled company. I never saw so many guns drawn so quickly, but I think I might have been first. Chevy held his finger against his lips and whispered. "That could be Juanita, but why would she come here now? I told her it is important she not be connected to us." "Stay here," Coop told me. "Right," I said before I followed a step behind him. Coop walked outside with Chevy to find his cousin Juanita putting her burrow into the poorly fenced paddock. My limited Spanish didn't cover the agitated conversation, so I wasn't certain what she said to Chevy. The words I did understand were unsettling. When Juanita burst into tears, I wanted to head in the opposite direction. Instead I waited for Chevy to tell us the bad news. "When Juanita arrived at our cousin Manuela's house in the city, she couldn't find her. Manuela had left no word with any of her friends in Santa Marta. "Then Juanita found an elderly neighbor who said two men forced Manuela into a car. The woman is old so no one would listen. Manuela doesn't know the kind of people who would abduct her. It has to be connected to me—maybe even to us." "Maybe we should find another place to stay," I ventured. "We can keep moving." 77
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"In the dark?" Coop obviously didn't care for my idea. "Manuela is very vocal about her views on the legalization of vampires in Colombia," Chevy told us and put his arm around Juanita. "I should've known Sandoval would come after my family." "Sandoval shouldn't have a clue why we're here." Coop stared at me while he spoke, as if my presence somehow caused the trouble for Chevy. "This doesn't make sense. Nothing is going right." "Let's get out of the open." I turned to head toward the shack. Once we were back inside the small room, Coop began to pace. "Jenna, you need to get on a plane and get the hell out of here. If Sandoval knows why we've come to Colombia, then there's no way we'll get close enough to kill him now." "No one knows my connection to Juanita," Chevy said. "Manuela yes, but not Juanita. I think you're safe here, but I need to find Manuela." I put my hand on Chevy's arm. "I'm not worried about my safety. I don't want to see anyone else hurt. Especially if it's because of my obsession with killing Sandoval." Chevy nodded. "Manuela will never talk if she's fallen into Sandoval's hands." He made the sign of the cross. "Frankly, I would be quicker to spill my guts than Manuela. Sandoval has no reason to think I've come back here." "Hold it," I demanded and had the urge to kick something. "Is this an immaterial little item you forgot to mention to me? Why would anyone care if you returned to Colombia?" 78
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Neither answered me, and the tension grew thick. "Don't screw this up, guys," I warned. "I want the truth. All of it." "Many years ago, Carlos Sandoval murdered my older brother. I was only ten," Chevy said. "Afterward, I came to live with an uncle in the States. I still have many people here in Colombia—aunts, uncles, cousins and especially my mother. I promised my family one day I would return to kill him. This is how I came to work for Slayers Inc." What could I say after that? "I'm sorry." Seemed lame. "Carlos Sandoval and his son are evil. However, I'm not about to get on a plane and allow them to continue their evil reign of terror if I can help it." Chevy crossed himself again. I wondered if it meant big trouble. "Juanita says we should stay here. She is convinced Manuela would not lead them to us, and nobody in the city knows where she stays out here. I won't be leaving Colombia until I'm certain Manuela is safe and Sandoval is dead." Coop ran a hand through his thick ponytail and pulled half of it free. "That settles it. We'll stay here tonight and try to hook up with Joe in the morning. He'll be wondering where we are, but he's a big boy. He can handle it. Any further thoughts, Jenna?" "I don't believe in coincidences. I think Chevy's missing cousin should be our first priority. I don't want anyone else to suffer so I can get Rosa's killers." Chevy stepped forward. "I'll leave for Santa Marta right away and see what I can find out about her disappearance." Juanita stood at his words and nodded to him. I could see the relief on her face. 79
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Jenna and I are safe here," Coop said. "Take Jorgé and head for Santa Marta. We'll meet up as planned tomorrow afternoon. I'll leave it to you to get hold of the rest of the team and warn them about what's happening." Coop and I would be alone again? At night? In the dark? With a bed? He'd never come clean with me about the full moon. Everyone wasted little time departing, while I tried to make myself invisible. Coop locked the door the door behind them. Like that would stop a vampire. Coop took a step toward me and stared too long. When he turned toward the bed in the corner of the room, I jumped inside. "Maybe you should think about turning in." "Good idea," I whispered because my voice failed me. It was so quiet I could hear his breathing. I went over to the bed and sat down. I wanted to ask where he'd sleep, but I kept my mouth shut. The single bed was bunk-size, and I didn't think I'd be getting much sleep anyway. "You're not the kind of woman a man can forget after he's made love to you." Coop spoke while he had his back to me and poured another cup of coffee. His words may have gone in my ears, but they didn't linger there. They headed to my nether regions and created all kinds of hellish havoc. What do you say after a man declares something like that? I didn't know how to respond. 80
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
If it was just up to me, I might tell him to get lost after fucking me before he told me was a werewolf. However, my hormones wouldn't allow that. I think one of those little buggers had a large caliber gun. My mouth opened on its own. "I say, forget me tomorrow. Would that be soon enough?" Coop turned to stare me down. Holy macaroni! I hooked my fingers along the bottom of the well-worn and splintering bedrail to keep from throwing myself at him. Finally he spoke. "Sounds good to me." I wanted to scream for him to move. He just stood there and made me squirm. Something had to give. "Jenna? Are you sure?" Coop leaned back against the wall and eased his hand into his pocket to slip out a foil wrapper he then held up. I nodded. "Lucky you thought to pack that." He grinned at me and the heavy, shriveled heart I'd lugged with me all day flooded with relief. It would be so much easier if I just didn't want him. Not much chance of that. "And all you thought to pack was guns." "I've been sleep deprived," I told him. "You still are. We're only going to use one of these tonight instead of half a box." "Okay," I squeaked, before I remembered I didn't like women who squeak. "Then you better let me handle that. We wouldn't want it to get lost." I held my hand out, palm up. He took a few steps nearer, tossed it to me and then started to take his clothes off. "I like this part," I told him. 81
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"The part where I take off my boots?" He took his time. I had my shoes, socks and pants off before his second boot hit the floor. "The other part," I told him. "My shirt?" "Not your shirt." "My pants?" he asked. It was infuriating how slow the man could be. "Closer, but no cigar," I said and waggled my eyebrows. Coop grinned. "I see what you want. He lowered his hands to the snap of his jeans and flicked. "This?" Commando! "Oh yes, that's exactly what I want," I panted. "What do you want?" "I like the part where you sing the Halleluiah Chorus." "I never!" "Wanna bet?" I could look at his cock forever and never tire of it. Like candy. When I licked my lips, he groaned. "Want to come closer with that? He walked up to where I sat, and I was eye to eye with his beautiful cock. A pearl of cum seeped out. Perfect. I captured it with my tongue. This gave me power ... lots and lots of it. Not only did I thoroughly enjoy the touch of his cock to my mouth, I intended to make him never forget it. The slightly salty taste thrilled me and the musky scent of him made me wet. I took hold with both hands and laved his swollen head, then moved down to wiggle the tag of skin under his cap with 82
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
flicks of my tongue. He moaned. I loved being responsible for his pleasure. Low hand on the totem got the pleasure of caressing his balls. He threaded his hands into my hair and rocked on his heels. I took this as a cue to get serious and surrounded him with my big mouth. While I sucked, I did a jerk-off motion with my hand on his cock and continued to fondle his balls. When I began to work him further into my mouth, his balls seized tight. I tried to coax them back down, and for a moment or two I did it. Then he went off. **** "Jenna's still sleeping," Coop told Chevy. "Tomorrow morning then?" Coop gave Chevy a nod. "Tell Joe to book a flight out of Santa Marta. Better have him book two seats. We'll put Joe on the plane with her. We can always handcuff her to the seat if we have to." I'd been about to come down to the river and say hello to Chevy. I pulled back behind the tree where I could hear them and not be seen. When would I learn to stop being so trusting? I actually woke up this morning thinking things had changed between Coop and me. The man was like a relationship vampire, shutting himself in an emotional coffin in daylight. Chevy handed Coop a set of keys. "Green light at midnight?" "Affirmative." 83
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I watched them give each other the "sign." I'd seen the men greet each other at the compound with a series of macho thumps on their broad chests. Fist pounds which represented belonging to their secret club. If I had a gun, I'd shoot both of them. Wait a minute. I did have a gun. My first bullet whizzed over their heads and into the tree behind them with a dull thunk. Both of them hit the ground with their weapons drawn. However, I'd expected that. "Target practice," I called out before I stepped out into the clearing and waved my gun at them. "Just trying out my new silencer." "I should go," Chevy said, after he stood and brushed the dried grass off his pants. "No, stay," I said. "Do you think it's possible to print a two-inch group on the tree right behind you?" "That's definitely my cue to leave." Chevy started to move toward a motorcycle. "I'll keep you posted, boss." "Thank you," I called to him. "You did mean me, didn't you?" "It's been my experience men react to women better when they aren't being shot at," Coop said. "Imagine that. All this time I didn't have a clue about what a real man wants. I thought we planned to be at the beachside villa in El Pajáro, but our plans have changed. Now we're headed back to Santa Marta first thing this morning to meet the team."
84
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Plans change," Coop said. "I thought we'd do a little shopping first. Replace some of the stuff we lost along with Jeep. I'm sure you'd like to buy some clothes." "Perfect," I said and pulled the Glock up to shoulder level and, just for fun, printed a two-inch pattern over his head in the tree trunk behind him. The only thing missing was the apple on his head. To give him credit, at least this time Coop didn't eat dirt. Chevy had found a Jeep for us so we were in Santa Marta a little over a half-an-hour later. Coop gave up on the small talk after the first five minutes. What had I gotten myself into? Nobody said it was going to be easy, but I didn't expect it to be emotional shit. I also didn't anticipate a fling with a bad guy, so I deserved anything being shoveled my way. "Yam is still holed up at the hotel. We'll stop there first and stow some of our gear until we head for El Pajáro." I didn't say anything. If he thought he'd get me on a damned plane with Joe without a frigging battle, he'd soon find out differently. Yam seemed happy to see us when he answered the door. The Costa Azul Beach Hotel is four stories high with four rooms on each floor. We were on the second floor in room number three—my lucky number. "That was some dance. You didn't let me tell you yesterday. Sandoval and his mistress had a knock-downdrag-out after you and Coop disappeared."
85
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"It's nice to see you, too, Yam." I hadn't talked to him yesterday when he'd picked us up at the airport ... and pissed me off in two seconds flat. "We'll be back to pick up this stuff," Coop interrupted and tossed our bags in the corner. "Right now, we have to find Jenna some clothes. We had to leave everything when we hiked down Pico Colón." "You didn't lose your dancing dress, did you?" "Sorry, Yam, but the dress is in a ravine in the mountains. If you want it, you'll have to get it yourself." Yam laughed. "Dancing naked would be a close second. What do you think, boss?" "She already shot at Chevy and me this morning," Coop advised. "I think you better save it for later." Yam motioned to the TV. "It's a soap opera. You're just in time to watch it with me." Great. Shopping or a soap opera in Spanish. What had happened to my luck? Coop took me to a little boutique with vine-covered, pink stucco walls and red trim right out of a fairy tale. If I thought I hated shopping in the past, Coop helped take the experience to a whole new level. I finally just told him to pick the clothes and left to wait in the Jeep. That lit a fire under him, and I regretted I didn't do it an hour earlier. "How about a bite to eat?" Coop asked as he joined me a couple of minutes later. I love shopping and eating in public after I've shimmied down the side of a mountain in the pouring rain, slept in a 86
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
hut, had wild monkey sex and haven't had a shower. Too bad I don't get to do it more often. [Back to Table of Contents]
87
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 8 "Jenna, I'm warning you," Coop shouted at me. "If you dare shoot at me again, I'll smash that plastic nightmare you call a gun." "I shot at you with my Glock, not this. And it's polymer, not plastic." I tried to hook the 1911 on my waist and almost dropped it. "I'm not holding it because I planned to fire at you again. I was trying to find a more comfortable place to carry. It's not easy to carry concealed in pink hip huggers." I hated the clothes he'd picked for me to wear. "You can always wear it at your ankle," Coop advised. "Oh, you'd love that. You know how hard it is to pull a weapon from an ankle rig. You did this on purpose. I've never seen such god-awful clothes. Were they having a pink sale? I guess I could wear the short-shorts. They may be cherryblush, but at least they have a waist." "I didn't ask to buy your clothes." "No, you just kept tossing outfits over the dressing room door until I couldn't take it any more." "Joe has some of your things. Can you make the best of it until we get to El Pajáro? I was trying to be helpful." "Helpful? If I hear one more word about how unappreciative I am, I'll go ballistic. The only things you threw over the door were the kind of clothes a professional woman would wear. As in the oldest profession. If you knew me at all, you never would've insisted on taking me shopping. I hate to shop." 88
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop stood a step closer and puffed up like a blowfish. "Excuse me for not having John Wilson's impeccable taste and platinum card." Yam threw both arms straight into the air like a referee at a football game. "Touchdown." I can gesture, too. I flipped Yam off. "It's always about the money with you," I told Coop. "When did you two get married?" Yam asked. "What?" We both yelled in harmony. "Shut the hell up," Coop added. "You two are doin' each other then." Yam made another juvenile gesture with his fist, which made me want to puke. "She'll shoot you," Coop warned. I might have, but not if Coop wanted me to. "We don't have a relationship the way you mean," I said. Once again I was reminded I'd fallen, head-under-ass, for a werewolf, who was a vampire hunter to boot. What were the chances? I needed some time to myself. I headed for the door. "I really don't think you want to leave right now. You might miss the special evening I have planned for us." "How special?" Earlier, while talking to Chevy, they'd said they were good-to-go at midnight. "About as special as it gets. Trust me ... you don't want to miss it." As it turned out, Coop had been telling the truth about missing out on an important part of our mission, after he threw the clothes he'd bought for me back into both bags and dared me not to come with him. I grabbed my gear—guns. 89
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
We headed to the marina, where Raul was waiting in a speedboat. "This morning we learned Micos Sandoval plans to spend at least part of his night on his brother's yacht, alone with a friend." I gave Coop a glare after he finished. "You could've told me this earlier." "We were waiting for nightfall." Coop and Raul did this guy-eye-rolling thing, and I had a vision of the two of them bobbing up and down in the water, while I smacked at their heads with an oar. Raul started the motor and yelled above the racket. "A couple of the guys are monitoring every move Micos makes." Coop leaned back in his seat and propped his right foot up alongside the windshield. He locked his hands behind his head in a completely relaxed manner. I should've known he'd have it covered. We'd gone over at least a dozen scenarios for every move we could possibly make in Colombia. He was not a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy. Except for the sex part. He'd been spontaneous enough about that. We pulled alongside the biggest and most expensivelooking of about a half-dozen yachts. Coop secured us while Raul cut the motor. Jorgé waved from above and started down to help me aboard. A yacht? "Welcome to the Emerald Lair." Coop emphasized his words with a welcoming sweep of his arm. We all went up to the capitan's steering place. The helm? I don't do boats. 90
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop picked a seat next to me and the yacht headed out to sea. "Jorgé is good at this. Fun, huh? Chevy, Estaban and Yam are near enough in a speed boat to get to us fast if we need them, but I don't anticipate much trouble. I haven't heard from Joe yet. He's probably on his way back to Santa Marta." "They should be coming any time. Get ready," Jorgé yelled. "We're about to have company," Raul said. "Sandoval is moving aft. Let's see if we can get his attention." Coop laughed. "Since this is his yacht, I think we already have!" We were in a stolen boat? In the next instant, we accelerated. Coop turned to me. "Let's see how bad he wants his boat back." I moved to the rail where I could watch Sandoval speed after us. When he trailed about a boat length behind us, out of nowhere a small and very fast boat flew between us. We had to swerve to the side to avoid a narrow miss. Yam? Could Yam be driving ... steering ... whatever? A second later, an explosion sounded and Micos Sandoval's yacht slowed to a stop. I could see the stricken looks on the faces of both Micos and his friend even from a distance. When I heard the muted pop of a gun with a silencer, I ducked into a firing stance. Micos and the man with him disappeared. "No," I moaned. "Who's shooting?" "Raul," Coop said. 91
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"What does he think a gun will do?" "It may not be like silver bullets with werewolves, but it'll slow them down a little. Let's go get our vampire." I decided not to voice any of the doubts free-floating in my brain. I'd never actually seen a vampire get staked. Once we drew close to our prey's yacht, the guys jumped on board, one after the other. Coop gave me a stare and followed his men. I'd half-expected them to turn into werewolves. I figured Coop would try to stop me. I turned to glance back at Raul, who gave me a thumbs-up. "I'll have your back," he said. I jumped and moved fast. Raul and I worked together in perfect sync. We covered each other as we went. When we entered the small galley, I got vampire vibes, but I didn't see one. I signaled caution to Raul. There were two closed doors. I motioned to the stake Raul had at his waist and he pulled it out. I gave a nod. As I moved nearer to the first door and the vibes didn't get stronger, I reversed and inched back toward the other one. I planned to empty my gun into the vamp and let Raul take it from there. I moved to stand directly in front of the door with my SIG cocked and aimed. I nodded and Raul jerked open the door. The vampire came flying toward me, while I emptied my gun and when down on my back still firing away. The blast of my gun deafened me in the small space. Gaping holes blossomed on the vampire's chest. Blood flew. He stood in place for a moment, as if he couldn't comprehend what I was 92
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
doing to him. Each round made him jerk, but he didn't go down. Raul tackled him to the floor. Next thing I know, the stake went flying by me. Not good. I dove for it, then swung back to where the vampire already had Raul pinned. His teeth were bared as he went for Raul's neck, which seemed to splitting, with fur pouring out. The sight of Raul shedding his human form rattled me for only a moment. I had no idea if I could drive the stake through the vampire's back to reach his heart. I didn't have time to worry. I drove the stake inside him, then pounded it with the butt of my gun. The vampire disintegrated with a blast of air, blood and gore. Black dust filled the air. When it settled, Raul was covered in the powdery sand and other more noxious substances. I didn't know if some of them came from becoming a werewolf. It all happened so fast the adrenaline had hit me like a nuclear bomb. I started to shake. I'd had no choice! I'd just killed someone with a stake. Even if it was a vampire, it still made me queasy. I'd worry about it later. Raul, frozen between man and beast, didn't speak. His skin slowed the fur's growth and then covered it. I turned my head. I wasn't ready to see this shit. "I owe you one." His voice was my cue. I could safely turn back. Raul reached up to touch the side of his head, where blood covered his ear. 93
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Can you stand?" I asked. He shrugged and reached for my hand. I ducked under his arm and helped him to his feet. "Jenna!" Coop's voice echoed down the corridor and the sound of running feet told us we'd soon have company. Raul straightened, but groaned. Since I still held my empty gun in my free hand, I shoved it into my waistband, surprised to find it hot against my skin. Coop rushed through the doorway, with Yam and Chevy right behind him. Coop looked down at the remnants of vampire and back to me. "You feel better now?" "She probably saved both our lives," Raul said. Yam trod through the dust and muck to give me a hand with Raul. "I never doubted it for a second." "What happened?" Coop looked at Raul for the answer, as if he didn't trust my version. Unbelievable. No—Jenna, are you okay? Did he hurt you, Jenna? Jenna, can I kiss a boo-boo? Fuck, no! "You can read my report," I snapped and started to walk with Raul. "Right now we have an injured man. Jerk." "I'm okay," Raul insisted. "Just a little dizzy. Give me a minute and I'll be good as new." Coop gave a nod. "We still need to find Micos." Yam took off, and Coop motion for Raul and I to follow him. We hadn't gone too much further into the interior of the boat when I sensed another vampire. I needed ammo. I released my clip, slipped another from my pocket and slapped it in place. I didn't hesitate to pop one into the tube. 94
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I pointed to the right, and Raul nodded. For a second, Coop hesitated. I moved to the right, and they followed. It was a bedroom. Dark. Too dark for a human to see. But these guys were werewolves. The vamp was so near. But there was nowhere to hide. Coop and Raul searched and found nothing. "Not here," Coop said. But he was. I couldn't be wrong. I was positive. The vibes were much too strong. Like we were right on top of him. I looked down. Nothing. I stamped and the floor sounded hollow. What could it hurt? I emptied an entire round into the floor. A scream told me I'd hit something. It didn't take long to find the almost-invisible door in the floor. When Coop swung it open, a vamp lay, writhing as if in pain. Micos. I remembered his face from the attack in Phoenix like it was yesterday. He'd killed John Wilson's brother. It was an emotional moment for me. "He's riddled with shards of wood from the floor. One must be near his heart." Raul pulled another stake from the pouch at his side. "This one's for you, Jenna." Raul didn't overthink his method. He reached down and drove a stake into the vampire's chest. Again, another blast of particles and gore hit the air. I coughed and swiped the ooze from my face. Damn. Next time I'd remember to close my mouth and stand the hell back. "Hey, boss, we got trouble!" Yam yelled from outside the stateroom door. 95
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Coop turned to run the way we'd come. I followed on his heels, holding my second empty gun since I hadn't reloaded. I'd come with three extra clips. As I reloaded, I reminded myself of that fact. The adrenaline began to pump again. "This way," Yam said when we reached him. "It's about as ugly as it gets." We followed Yam down another flight of stairs, where we stepped over another pile of gore. Had Yam or Coop done it? "Through here," Yam said. "It's not pretty." "Fuck," Coop whispered as soon as he stepped through the doorway. I couldn't see over his wide shoulders, but the smell said blood. Lots of blood, mixed with other, more noxious body secretions and lots of it. When Coop moved aside, I saw the most gruesome sight I'd ever seen, or hope to see as long as I live. A young woman was roped to a chair at the arms and ankles. The only reason I knew it was a woman was the fact she still had one mutilated breast halfway attached. Her head listed to the side at a grotesque angle and was a bloody pulp. She had a gaping slash under her chin from ear to ear, which almost looked like a wide, smiling mouth. I had no doubt the woman had been dead for some time. Besides the putrefying stench, her blood had congealed to near black in some places. My heart sank when I looked at Yam, Raul and Coop. "Chevy's Manuela?" Coop looked back at me and nodded. "Can you find him and let him know?" 96
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I swallowed hard and felt a lump in my throat. "I'll find him." I looked away before I began to tear. It took me less than two minutes to find Chevy. I'm not good with this sort of thing. "Raul found your cousin below." Chevy got wild-eyed on me and fixated on the gun in his hand. Shit. I hadn't thought of that. "Where is she?" "You don't want to see," I said. "She's been gone a long time. It's fucked. Now we have to be strong to get back where we need to be. We got Micos and we'll get Carlos." Chevy wouldn't listen to me and had to see for himself. Even covered in a sheet, the smell of Manuela's decomposing body was more than I could endure. I'd been at death scenes before, but this one surpassed them by a mile. Coop and Yam manually hauled Chevy from the room and asked Raul and me to see to her. We found a couple more sheets and wrapped her with as much respect as we could muster. I didn't like the idea of transporting a decayed body, but she deserved a proper burial. When we realized there were parts of her still on the floor, I didn't know what to do. Raul found a glass and put her severed fingers in it. I didn't want to think about what had happened to her missing breast. It took a long time for the two of us to get her topside. I had to stop so I could throw up, twice. I made Raul promise not to tell Coop. Since he barfed, too, he agreed. I kept thinking of Rosa. How would I feel if Rosa had been tortured and dismembered like this poor woman? I couldn't 97
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
stand it. Once we all gathered, I had to know. "Did this happen because of us?" No one answered. "Fucking vampires," Coop said. I shuddered and turned to him. "So what do we do now?" "I'll sink both yachts and make it look like an accident. That'll give us time to work some new magic," Yam said. Coop nodded after a long pause. "EOD." Coop didn't have to explain EOD. Explosives Ordinance Deployment. Yam sure had me fooled. [Back to Table of Contents]
98
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 9 The sinking of the two yachts made me look at Yam differently. I had new respect for his ability. "Yam, did you ever consider taking on an apprentice?" I asked once we'd gathered on one of the speedboats for the trip to Santa Marta and then on to El Pajáro for our long overdue connection with Joe. Lucky for Joe, he'd missed all the excitement. My question elicited a knee-jerk reaction from Coop. His face turned cold, his eyes beaded to pinpoints of steel and he opened his mouth to respond. I reclined in my seat and closed my eyes. Right then I didn't want to deal with Coop. **** "Jenna, it's time to disembark." I opened my eyes to see Yam leaning over me. Did he say it was time to barf? "Don't do it. I don't have that many pairs of shoes left." Yam grinned at me, and the cobwebs began to clear. Once I finally sleep, it's a black-hole kind of sleep. "We're here. Get up." "We're in Santa Marta?" "We were in Santa Marta over an hour ago. We dropped off Manuela's body and Chevy." "So where are we now?" I asked. 99
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"We just docked in El Pajáro. You and Coop will find a car and drive to the villa you rented. It's either a long walk or a short drive. You don't appear to be in any shape for another hike." I wanted to argue just on principle, but I didn't have the energy since I felt like an angry dishrag. Aren't vampires supposed to have boundless energy? "Give me a hand." Yam smiled at me again and literally picked me up. I hung onto his neck and went along for the ride. He didn't put me down until we were on dry land, standing beside Coop. Then Yam hugged me. My heart dropped ... I reached up to put my hands on either side of his face and tilted it down where I could get a close look into his puppy-dog eyes. This wasn't like him. He didn't do puppy-dog. "What?" I asked. "We can't reach Joe." "No!" I threw myself back into his hug and held tight while I tried to think. "We'll find him," Yam told me, but I think he was trying to convince himself. I pushed back and did the fist thump thing on my shriveled heart. Tears started to sting my eyes and I refused to subject Yam to my feminine theatrics. "We will find him." Yam thumped his chest back at me, and I nearly lost it. Instead, I punched him in the arm. "Where're all the rest of our guys?" Coop met my eyes and sighed. This couldn't be easy for him. "Jorge and Raul stayed in Santa Marta to make sure Chevy is okay. It's just the three of us for now. We'll split up. 100
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
You and I will go to the estate as planned, like nothing is wrong. Yam will come in through the back." "Let's go," I said, before I remembered my gear. As if Coop had read my mind, he pointed to my bag, near where he stood. I grabbed for it and he got it first. Ordinarily, I would argue. Instead, I followed behind him. The huge mountain outside of Santa Marta where Coop and I had had our hiking excursion looked completely different from this eastern angle. The beach, what I could see of it, seemed like a tropical paradise ... not the kind of place where someone would have to worry about dead bodies and vampires. "One-hundred hours," Coop said to Yam. "Let's go." I chased after him down the dock and onto a near dark and deserted street. The few we encountered stared at us. Coop seemed to know exactly what he was looking for and entered a small parking lot. A large wooden placard outside told me in Spanish they had cars for hire. However, business hours were long past. A minute later, we were sitting in an old Ford, while Coop hot-wired it. We drove for about thirty minutes before we found the villa. It was a beautiful, one-story house set against the backdrop of the Caribbean Sea. Despite its sleepy splendor, I couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. I pulled my SIG from my waist, popped in a clip and loaded a round into the tube. "Get your Glock and silencer out of your bag," Coop said, pulling into the horseshoe-shaped driveway of pebbles and ground seashells. "I need you to take the lead. We don't want 101
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
loud gunfire alerting any neighbors or anyone in the hills across the road." We'd passed homes all along the drive to the villa. The last thing we needed was to tangle with the local law and vampires. Coop's brows drew into a tight line as he looked at me. "You think you can handle it?" I popped the load back out of tube of the SIG and stuck it back into my waistband before I reached for my bag. After finding the G, I turned away and concentrated on screwing on the silencer. I could feel the adrenaline begin to pump with the final twist. "I'm going to get out and walk around to open your door. Don't forget to act like we're lovers. That's the last thing Sandoval saw from us." I watched Coop walk around the front of the car. I slipped the gun underneath my shirt, holding it with the barrel between my breasts. On second thought ... I took it back out to make sure I had the safety set. While Coop opened my door, I considered taking the safety back off again. "Show time," Coop said as he leaned down and offered his hand. Since my right hand was full, I swiveled and offered him my left. He made a production of helping me out of the car before he tucked me against his side with his arm over my back and draped down over my shoulder. It was slow moving, but we made the best of it. "I'm going to kiss you," Coop whispered. "You search behind me, while I do the same." 102
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
His lips sent another shot of adrenaline through me. I fought to focus on the house and what surrounding area I could see over the top of his shoulder. "Nothing," I whispered into his mouth. But it had been something all right—he'd lit me like an octogenarian's birthday cake. We continued on toward the door. It was a gigantic carved monstrosity that would easily impede a bullet. Coop tried the latch. The sound of a click surprised both of us. He gently swung it open. I sensed a vampire had been there even before we crossed the threshold into a small foyer with open arches leading off on either side of us. A narrow hallway led off straight ahead, with a small door at the end. Coop shut the door behind us and kept his back against mine while he nudged me into a turn. I pulled my weapon and felt him do the same. When I heard him chamber a bullet, I did likewise. I clicked off the safety, then held it low and to the left. We started into the first room to our right and I saw blood on the floor. I nudged Coop, but he must have seen it at the same time since he started to move quicker. The closer we came to the bright red drops on the reddish-brown tile floor, the more I sensed a vampire. "Keep moving," he hissed in half growl, half whisper. We continued through the house, room by room, without finding a single thing other than the blood in the front of the house. In the master bedroom, a set of sliding glass doors hung partway open. 103
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I had vampire vibes, but not close. At least this time I'd come prepared. I had three stakes stuck in my waist band. It gave me the creeps, but I'd done it once—I could do it again. When I looked to the right of the walk just outside the door—more blood. Fuck! Time was on our side. It would soon be dawn. None of the vamps I'd seen in Colombia had come out in daylight. I don't know why I can do it. Maybe I'm a hybrid. Straight ahead, a patch of sand led to the ocean. To the right, a rock crag ran from land and out into the water, forming a natural break. I needed to go there. I couldn't explain it ... I just had to. In the next instant, I heard a growl. I jerked back to see Coop as he shed his human form. It was about as bad as seeing Manuela's dead body. The contortions he executed gave me the willies. His jaw elongated and long, sharp teeth grew downward ... his skin slipped open to reveal fur. I had to look away. I wasn't ready to watch this. A second later, he flashed by me, not at all like a wolf I'd seen at the zoo. He was like a hybrid—tall, half-human and half-beast. Even though I wanted to make a dash for it, too, I moved slowly. The sound of seagulls over by the rocks drew my attention. Something or someone had them riled. Around the next boulder ... I saw Joe. In the same instant, a vampire materialized behind Joe. I raised my gun and fired. I didn't take time to mull it over. The fact Joe was already bloodied told me of the vamp's intent. I emptied my gun in the vampire's chest as I raced toward them. I'd printed a pattern no bigger than my fist right over his heart. While I hadn't killed him, I'd done some serious fucking damage. By 104
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
the time I made to his side, I had a stake in my hand and drove it into the one of bullet holes. He evaporated into brisk sea air, while the gory internal parts fell with a splat onto the rocks. "How many?" I mouthed while I reloaded. Joe held up three fingers and put one down. I worked my way over to him, careful not to lose my footing on the slick rocks. The closer I came to him ... the harder it became to not to cry. His face had a gray tinge, probably due to blood loss. His entire left side appeared to be covered with blood and he had teeth holes in his neck. "It's worse than it looks," Joe said, more moan than voice, and then winked. I leaned closer to examine him. Then I understood. I had to do something or he would die. I reached down to pull the knife I knew I'd find on his boot and sliced my wrist. When Joe realized what I was doing, he shook his head. Fuck. He didn't want it. My blood poured down my hand. I wasn't going to force him. When, in the next second, he grabbed my hand and put my wrist to his mouth, I did start to cry like a baby. He drank until I grew weak and pulled away. I needed something to stanch the flow of blood from my wrist. When Joe somehow managed to deliver his belt, I hurried while I still had strength. Joe managed a weak smile. "I lost the.38 you gave me." 105
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"No big deal, I brought an extra. It looks like you're going to live." I pulled my 1911 from my waistband and handed it to him. "But lose this and you're a dead man." "Are you okay?" Coop joined us in time to hear Joe's question. His clothes, tattered and soiled, hung from his lean, muscular body. "Don't you have it backward? You're the one covered in blood." Joe put a hand on my arm. "He got Jenna with a knife before she staked him." It surprised me to hear Joe lie to Coop. He'd lie to Coop to protect me? Or himself? When I gave Joe my blood, there were no more secrets between us. He didn't have to ask if I was a vampire ... he knew. And now ... he'd be just like me. Unless ... I didn't thirst for blood. Hopefully, Joe wouldn't either. "It's no big deal," I said. "I feel better already. How many did you get? Joe said there were three." At a sound, Coop and I both turned in sync to see another vampire running away from us and toward the side of the villa. Coop took off and I turned away. If he intended to change into a wolf again, I didn't want to see him. Besides, Joe needed me. And I didn't have the energy right then for another fight. Even though I knew, if this vampire got away, we could kiss goodbye any hopes of getting Carlos. "Jenna, about what happened back there..." I hated this. "Joe, you don't have to say anything." "Like hell I don't. You saved my life." 106
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Yam walked up. His clothes hung in shreds, too. I shuddered to think of him in wolf form. "You, too, Joe?" Yam asked. "Me, too?" Joe looked confused. Yam smiled at me. "She saved Raul's ass today, too." When Coop came back a short time later, he was covered in vampire soot. I remembered back to the day I walked into the bar to meet these guys. Who knew I'd love them all? [Back to Table of Contents]
107
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 10 "So we proceed as planned?" I asked. "Seems like the way to go," Coop said. "We're still playing at being lovers?" It hurt to say the words in front of the guys. They were probably taking bets about whether Coop and I were really doing it. "With your assistant missing, makes sense I would offer my help," Coop said. "I don't think it will make Sandoval suspicious." I didn't have a snappy comeback for this conversation. In fact, I wasn't feeling snappy at all. And something strange clawed at my insides. Something I couldn't name and had never experienced. Coop didn't seem to notice as he concentrated on his cousin. "Joe, you need to see a doctor. Chevy will take you to his cousin's in Santa Marta." "I'll be fine," Joe said. Coop sneered until Joe threw his hands in the air in resignation. Yam moved next to me and pulled me against his hard body. "How 'bout we get you to the car before you pass out?" I smiled at him, laid my head on his chest and he rocked back on his heels ... sweet. I like to be rocked. When I came to, I was in bed in the hotel room in Santa Marta. I'd thought about how nice it would be share this bed with Coop. Fat chance now. I moved to feel the sheets 108
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
against my body. I lifted them and looked. Against my naked body? Coop? It had to be. What was I going to do about him? No way could things stay status quo. "Mail call," Coop said on the other side of the door. Male call? Was he crazy? "I'm still sleeping." "Jenna, you have a message from Wilson. Do you want it or not?" A message from John? Maybe if I pretended to get really excited Coop would get my message and back off. "Of course I want it. I can't wait." Coop opened the door and looked in as if he feared I might be standing on the other side of the door with a bat. What had I done now? Did I do something to him after Yam rocked me to sleep? I looked around. "What time is it? Who took off my clothes? Did John want me to read that?" I pointed to the newspaper in his hands. "Is that how it's going to be?" he asked with a growl. I shrugged. "Answer my questions?" "Let's see." Coop glanced up, as if remembering. "It's morning. I did. And no, just look at the advertisement." "You're sure?" "Coop shook his head. "It's too early for this. If you're pissed because I took your clothes off, too bad." For some reason he turned red ... very red. It all came back to me. How had I forgotten that? I distinctly remembered having his cock in my mouth again. 109
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I ducked my head under the covers and reached out of the sheets to make sure everything important was covered. "Jenna ... I—" I held my uninjured arm up and gave him a talk-to-thehand while tears ran down my cheeks. How had I lost control of everything? From the time of that first bite, I blacked out every now and then. This was not a good time to have it happen. "If you have something to share about our mission, do it. Otherwise, just save it." I stayed under the covers and did a thread count with my keen vampire eyesight making the weave obvious. Couldn't I get a break? "Don't be angry. I brought you something to help with your quest. Read this, Jenna. It's your sure thing. Sandoval will make a move when he sees it. And we'll get him." All of sudden, it wasn't so important to get Sandoval. All of a sudden I wanted to cry. So I did. Loudly. "Please, take a look at this newspaper ad." He wasn't going to leave me in peace. I dried my eyes and took the newspaper. My necklace was featured front and center with a ridiculous price tag underneath. Maybe because it was written in pesos instead of dollars it appeared to be an outrageous amount of money. I couldn't even count all the zeros. "Wilson sent a cellphone with that number and told us to take messages for Carly Bradshaw." It sounded like it could work. "Did Sandoval call yet?"
110
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Joe's came into the room. He looked like shit. "So far, bubkes. This phone rings every couple of minutes. A museum in Bogotá is interested in the necklace." "You should've told us this necklace was worth a fortune." Coop reached for my neck. I pushed his hand away. I didn't think Coop was as worried about the price tag as he was about John Wilson. And I didn't want to get into a philosophical discussion about Wilson's pretentious resources. I grabbed my sheets, struggled with them, and headed for the shower. When I came back out to join my team, I wore my last pair of clean jeans and borrowed a shirt from Chevy. I had Chevy's crisp white T-shirt tucked into my waist. My 1911 was visible to everybody. At this point I didn't give a shit. My mini-G was on one ankle and my knife was on the other. Instead of singing in the shower, I'd made a mental wish list of accessories for my 1911 and SIG. I needed a bumper sticker saying, I accessorize—just ask to see my hardware. Joe seemed excited to see me. Sandoval maybe? "You have a date to show your necklace. Carlos wants to meet you for dinner." "Don't get too excited," Coop said. "If we don't get Carlos Sandoval tonight, we're heading out come morning, before we all end up dead. By now, too many people know we're here, and Sandoval has us outnumbered. Our only chance was the element of surprise. We're losing it with each passing second."
111
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I nodded. It didn't make me happy, but I understood. We only had one slim chance to get him. I had to make it count, or else. These men were willing to go the distance. Every word said confirmed my belief. In the thick of battle, I had complete and utter faith Coop would do all in his power to bring us both through it alive. Not once did I feel alone. Nor did I ever believe he'd sacrifice my life to save his. He'd been a true partner in every sense of the word, but this was our last realistic shot at Sandoval. A dinner date with Carlos Sandoval. Oh, goodie. We decided Coop should come with me and I could pretend I hadn't grown tired of him yet. As if. I took care to select an outfit to distract Sandoval. The man was a known player. I picked a little yellow number with big black polka dots. It was skin tight, just skimmed my ass and low cut. If I held it front of me instead of wearing it on my head, the matching wide-brimmed hat would cover more skin than the dress did. My outfit made me appear easy, less dangerous. Only when I slipped into the matching yellow, four-inch heels accented with clumps of frosted cherries, did I think about what gun I wanted. Tonight I'd carry a purse. I opened the large yellow tote John had given me and laughed. The man was amazing. A gun rig was built into the side of the bag, so once opened I wouldn't have to fumble for my weapon. As an added bonus, the bag was large enough for my gun of choice. I chose the SIG. However, as I thought about it, I decided I could also carry the 1911 loose in the 112
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
bottom of the bag. That left room for ammo and a stun-gun. And six stakes to root thru to get to gun number two! What more could a girl want? Maybe a little payback? **** I strolled into the restaurant on Coop's arm amid curious stares from everyone inside the small dinning room. Coop looked good enough to eat. His long, black hair was pulled into the usual ponytail. He wore a black silk shirt and black slacks. The slacks caressed his tight ass like I wanted to. Zing. Female hard-on. Even anticipating carnage, I wanted to have my way with him. Jorgé sat a table to our right inside the door. He looked me over as if he didn't know me, and I ignored him. Anyone seeing us would think us strangers. Yam, Raul, Estaban, Hawk and Chevy were somewhere outside, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Joe sat behind the wheel of the car that delivered us. He had a gun in his lap and two on the seat beside him. In his disguise as an eightyyear-old man, nobody would ever recognize him or consider him a threat. He may not be a hundred percent yet, but he could still help get Sandoval. Coop walked us to a vacant table with three chairs and pulled out my chair. Before I sat, I took a moment to play my part. "Don't forget," I whispered and ran my tongue along my upper lip. "We're lovers." My heels almost made me equal in height to him, so I used it as an advantage. I leaned into him, touching my body to 113
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
the length of his. I ran one hand down his back and stopped short of the gun at the back of his waist. The other hand I dipped into his pocket, not far inside, but he understood the method to my madness. I snuggled into him and kissed the hollow of his throat, where I knew he liked to be kissed. I allowed my lips to linger until he responded with a slight shudder and a long, low groan. Just as I'd planned, he grew hard, and I feathered my fingers along the evidence. "I'm hungry for something and don't know what," I whispered before I pulled back and smiled. I sat down and watched him fold stiffly into the seat at my side. "Meat—a big piece of juicy, red steak. Something I can get my mouth around," I said. "Come on, Jenna. Knock it off." The waiter sat a glass of ice water in front of me and I didn't hesitate. I dipped my hand into the glass for a cube. I rubbed it along the side of my neck. It began to melt right away, then drizzled down my chest and over one of the very visible mounds of skin revealed by the low-cut neckline of my dress. Those puppies were pushed up and squeezed together tight. "Hot and hungry," I said. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Coop asked. "Sandoval and his entourage are here." Joe's voice in my earring stopped me cold. We were connected to one another by receivers and transmitters again. "How many?" Coop asked. 114
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Eight I can count," Joe said. "And a couple of them are not shy about showing their teeth. Want to call it a night?" "Yam?" Coop said. "I can't talk," Yam whispered. "What's happening?" Joe demanded, and my heart stopped. "I'm choked up imagining how hungry Jenna is," Yam croaked. "Are you satisfied?" Coop said to me with a raised brow. "Let's keep our mind on the business at hand." "A couple more over here," Chevy said. "They're trying to look inconspicuous, but they're vampires." "What part of 'keep this discreet' didn't Sandoval understand?" I said before I moved my purse to the adjacent chair and clicked it open, not wide, but just enough that I could dip my hand in fast. Not only was my mind back on business, I couldn't wait. Carlos Sandoval walked in the door flanked by two vampires. They split off and stood at either side of the door. He headed directly for us. His eyes sought my chest. I didn't flatter myself. This was about an emerald necklace—a very pricey bauble he wanted to own. "Ms. Bradshaw," Sandoval said and looked at my purse on the only other chair at our table. "You're beautiful this evening. Thank you for meeting me. I can't tell you how excited I am at the prospect of owning those emeralds." ::Give them to me or die.::
115
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I hated having him in my head. I pulled the purse from the chair, turned to where I could ease my hand inside unnoticed and hugged it close. "Don't make a fuss, Carly," Coop said and started our show. "Just hear the man out." When a waiter appeared at his elbow, Sandoval waved him away. "I'll have champagne," I said. Sandoval stared at me as if I'd lost my mind. "They do not have champagne here." "That's the last straw." I sniffed. "It was a mistake to come. Perhaps we should reschedule this meeting. I am too upset to do business." ::Give them to me or die, bitch!:: I acted like I didn't hear. "My assistant is missing. How can I be expected to carry on as if nothing has happened?" Sandoval opened his mouth to speak, and I talked over him. "And don't get me started about our trip to the beach house. For crissakes." ::You pretend for this man, but we have no secrets between us. You are not, Carly Bradshaw. You are my servant to command. Give me the necklace.:: We'd come there under pretense, but I needed to be honest before my omission got someone killed. "He's in my head again. He wants me to rip the necklace from my throat and give it to him," I said to Coop. Sandoval's vampires started toward us. Sandoval held up his hand to stop them. "You will soon have a blood bath to 116
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
enjoy. Have your told this man you're a vampire, too?" Sandoval stared at Coop. I'll give him this ... Coop didn't flinch. "Why don't you try to take the necklace from me?" "You must give it to me." I slipped my hand in my purse for the SIG. "Is it always like this in Colombia?" I demanded of Sandoval. He appeared ready to interrupt. "Don't bother. I read the brochure." "We need to get out of here," Joe said in my ear. "They don't intend to allow any of us to leave alive. This place is crawling with vampires." Coop looked at me, a sad and almost poignant stare. "Joe isn't a werewolf." Okay, what did that mean? In the next instant, all hell broke loose. Coop began to change right there in front of me. Sandoval dove for him, but I had my SIG. The vampires moved at normal speed, while everyone else moved in slow motion. But that was just in my mind. A trick. Weren't tricks for humans? Why waste it on me? I aimed at Sandoval's chest as he flew through the air. I missed his chest, but kept firing until I'd emptied my gun. Every bullet hit him. While not exactly where I wanted the loads to land, I'd slowed him considerably. Before I could reload, Coop had Sandoval by the throat. My hand closed over the stakes strapped together. Someone jerked me off my four-inch heels from behind. I went down hard, but managed to keep two of the stakes when they flew apart. The vampire on top of me grabbed for the emeralds. They grew hotter than fire when his hand 117
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
closed around them and, in the next instant, he exploded on top of me, sans stake. What the fuck? This gave me second to look for Coop. The room was a battlefield. Everywhere werewolves and vampires fought to the death. I counted more wolves than my teammates. Coop had brought in local werewolf recruits? How did he know? "Sandoval just came out the door with his bodyguards." Joe's voice startled me. Coop hadn't gotten him. Shit! Joe. I prayed he didn't go after him. "Stay away from him," I said. "Just let him go." Another vampire rushed me. I didn't have time to worry about Sandoval or Joe. We wrestled and he pinned both of my arms, then came at my throat with his teeth. Based on what had happened to the previous vamp when he'd grabbed the necklace, I took a leap of faith that the emeralds would get him before I could. I didn't fight nearly as hard as I could. As his teeth sank into my neck, he couldn't avoid the necklace. I fought through the pain. The cat's eye emerald heated. The vampire's teeth racked over the necklace and he exploded. Joe. I needed to make certain Joe hadn't gone after Sandoval alone. Coop. Where was he? I saw Coop. His black silk shirt hung in shreds, but helped me identify him. He had a vampire by the throat. Raul, still in 118
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
human form, drove a stake in the vamp's chest while Coop held him. Next to me, Yam fought with two vampires. I dove for them and touched the necklace to one of the vampires and then the other. They evaporated in a blast of black particles and yucky slime. Yam gave me the thumbs-up, I think. It didn't translate well with claws. Not even a second later, two more vampires jumped him from behind. Yam outweighed the two of them together and he threw one into the wall with a resounding thump. The other he knocked to the ground for Raul to stake. I needed to help Raul. There were too many of them. Those remaining were eerily similar with long, gory incisors and yellowish-pale skin. Old vamps. Smart and used to fighting their prey. Their eyes glowed, not with intelligence, but with evil intent—blood lust. More than half were naked, their elongated bodies elegant in their macabre beauty as their preternatural flesh glistened with sweat. The smell of blood was all around me ... both werewolf blood and vampire. But I didn't want to smell the blood of the men I'd come to admire ... even love. I didn't want to because I craved it. I had an urge to lick Yam's wounds. This had never happened before. The horror of the memory of Sandoval sinking his fangs into my throat came to me. My first memory of how I came to be made. The soul-shattering grief I didn't save my friend followed. Everything came rushing to me at once. 119
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
The smell of Sandoval as he took my life. The urges he had that became my own, except for the most basic urge of all— to drink blood. He laughed at me and ... then my squad came to the rescue. And I'd managed to hide my disgrace. I'd died and teetered on the brink of endless black sleep. There was also the total sleep that took me so often ever since. I'd slept three days once and awakened with this necklace on my throat and John Wilson by my side. John. The necklace. It began to glow hot. One of the werewolves collided with two vampires almost over my head. Suddenly, I understood. The necklace burned like fire. I was on fire. I reached for the nearest vampire and funneled the power of the emeralds through my body. He dissipated in black dust particles at the slightest touch. No explosion like with the stake, and no gore. This came in an almost peaceful manner. I reached for another and then another. The room went silent. Werewolves and vampires both stared at me in awe and fear. All of these vampires were evil incarnate. They'd all taken the lives of the innocent. And it was time for them to go to their eternal rest or damnation. Their soulless eyes met mine as I seemed to float around the room to touch each one of them. When I finished, I stopped next to Coop. He'd just seen me destroy vampires. Would he forgive me for being one? The black sleep clawed at me and I grew weary. "I need everyone to go, right now." I stared at Coop, 120
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
still in wolf form, heaving to catch his breath. My hunger for him gnawed at me, too. "Except you." For the first time, my hunger for blood almost surpassed my sexual need. Almost. He nodded his shaggy, black head. Sandoval had escaped. I understood that. Right then, it didn't matter. When Coop changed back to human form, this time I watched. I'd just been responsible for the deaths of more than two dozen vampires. If I could do that, I could watch a little fur fly. Coop's human-wolf, hybrid form had his same steel gray eyes, his same dark coloring. And he stood almost as tall as the human Coop. He bent and rolled in a ball. As he unfurled, his limbs became human. Like liquid, his skin washed over the fur, hiding it from sight. His face changed last. His eyes mesmerized me and took away any trepidation. Why had I feared watching this? Especially now that he wore no shirt and tattered silk slacks. I wanted him. Heel-deep in ash and gore and still I wanted him. "We're alive," were the first words from his now human and perfectly formed mouth. I wanted his lips on mine. His mane of black hair fanned about his muscular chest. Oh, how I wanted him. We came together so fast I couldn't say which of us wanted this more. He kissed me long and hard, even as I unzipped his fly. His glorious cock greeted me. I lifted my skirt and ripped my panties off, just in case he didn't think I was serious. He lifted me and pushed me back against the wall behind me. I wrapped my legs around him. 121
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
He drove his cock inside me hard. Harder than I'd ever known, but I liked it and urged him on. Five or six hard thrusts and I came. I screamed, while he covered my mouth with his and grunted his own satisfaction. My orgasm cooled my hunger for blood, but not for him. If not for the men waiting outside, I would have fucked him again. [Back to Table of Contents]
122
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
CHAPTER 11 It was over. We drove back to the hotel in complete silence. I wanted to take comfort in the fact we'd killed Micos, even if we didn't get his murdering brother. But if Carlos Sandoval escaped, I didn't think I'd ever get my life back in control. Then again, Rosa had always told me my idea of control was a radical inaccuracy on my part. She said I needed to lighten up and learn to take things less seriously. Ironically, her death had made me more serious than I'd ever been before. The neon green lights took away the comforting darkness when Coop flipped open his phone. I huddled in my corner and listened as he contacted the men, one by one, to tell them we were pulling out in the morning at the latest. I interrupted his next call. "What about the airport? I told Sandoval I was leaving. Surely he won't let me go with this thing. Especially now that we know it's possessed." "Possessed?" "Well, what would you call it?" "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me you're a vampire?" Coop clicked the phone shut, turned toward me and leaned closer. An urge to reach out to him for comfort nearly choked me. Since when did I need a man for comfort? At the same time, Joe sighed. "I'm one, too." "Since wh—fuck." Coop gave me a hard stare with his steel gray eyes as if I was to blame. "Why?" 123
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"I couldn't just let him die." "Would you rather she had?" Joe snapped. I'd come between them. But I done the right thing, hadn't I? Would he rather see Joe dead than a vampire? "Do you hate vampires that much?" I asked. Coop turned away. "Let's not talk about this now. Emotions are too high." Just like a man. Talk—don't talk. Fuck—don't fuck. Everything their way. Joe drove us in silence. Coop sat up front next to Joe. He evidently didn't trust himself in the back seat with me. I could still smell the scent of him I'd come to crave. The sound of his breathing made my insides flutter. I wanted him at that moment more than ever. How could that be possible? I sat in the rear and fantasized about his cock. I had a mental picture and I counted the thick ridges. I imagined tracing a single finger over each one. I went slowly, very slowly. At the top, I licked my finger and followed the next one down. Once I'd made it all the way around, I wanted him in my mouth. I wanted to taste his cum. "Please stop, Jenna. This isn't helping." I'd communicated my thoughts to him? "Since we first made love, when you sleep, you come to me like this. And I can't resist. I thought I'd lost my mind. Now I know it's vampire mind games." Holy shit! "I didn't know." "Tell me," Coop said, barely above a whisper. "Is killing the Sandovals worth this? Worth what's happened to Joe." 124
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
My heart told me Coop was right. We pulled into the hotel parking lot and slowed to a crawl. The pebbles and shells crackled under our tires. The sound of the surf pounded against the wharf in the distance. The muted growl of a boat motor out on the water accompanied an occasional voice carried in the still night air from a quaint cantina across the road. I sighed. "I need to get out of Colombia with this damned necklace." "Good girl," Coop whispered. "Joe, I want you and Jenna to take the first plane out. The sooner, the better." "What about Chevy?" Coop could talk me into leaving, but no way would Chevy go with Sandoval still alive. Coop flipped open his phone again, but hesitated. "Yam, Raul, Estaban and I will stay to help. Chevy will not stop." "That about covers it," Joe said, sounding none to happy with Coop's announcement. I felt sorry for him. He'd ended up with a babysitting detail. Me. We drove still slower once we reached the parking lot off to the side of the harbor. The lot only had one light on a nearby pole, doing little to illuminate the area. I could see the twinkle of the boats on the water about a hundred yards away. This would be a good night to sneak up on someone. A chill ran down my back and made me shudder. Could Sandoval have come here to lie in wait for us? Maybe we were about to walk into an ambush. The car crawled between two short rows of parked cars. None looked particularly suspicious to me, but I eased the 125
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
SIG out of my bag to hold across my lap with my thumb on the safety, just in case. "Damn," Joe growled, and swerved to the left. "What?" I asked. Joe pulled off to the side and threw the car into park. "I hope that's not what I think it is." He motioned toward the hotel. Coop reached around, pulled his gun-bag from the floor by my feet and shoved it between him and Joe. They had to be for Joe, since Coop started to go furry. His skin split wide and the fur rushed out. I concentrated on the hotel, while Joe gathered his hardware. The hotel had four floors with four rooms per floor. We'd taken all the rooms on the second floor. Coop said, "I can't see what, but something's wrong." My preternatural body responded to the call-to-action with a flood of energy. While Coop dove out the door and sprinted across the lot in a crouched run, several other werewolves joined him. "Bout time you got here." I heard Yam's voice as I headed after Coop. "Jenna, we need your lovely ass here now!" I hadn't expected even two additional seconds to prepare myself for battle. Then again, I didn't have anything to prepare with. I'd worn a dress without any place to carry a weapon. Coordinating for a gunfight in a too-short, too-tight, bright yellow polka-dot dress on the spur of the moment and in the throes of a fucking vampire adrenaline rush is a bitch! I didn't have a holster or anything to make one. I didn't have my knife since an ankle rig might clash with my four-inch, 126
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
frosted-cherries heels. The only thing I could think to do was slip my bag over my arm and hold both of my guns in my hands. I can't shoot with my left anywhere near accurately enough to feel comfortable, but if someone just happened to jump in front of me at five yards or so, I'd nail them. No doubt about it. I made it to the hotel with Joe at my side. The moment Joe opened the door, I nearly doubled over in pain. Not only was Sandoval in the hotel, he had an army with him. If we thought things had been bad in the restaurant, this would be hell. The cloying vibes were like sharp needles hitting me from every direction. Beside me, Joe moaned. "This is fucked." I nodded and pointed to the stairwell. No way would I get on the elevator. I shed my shoes and stayed as close as I could behind Joe without walking on his heels. The sound of his breathing in my earring reminded me we were still linked with our mics and transmitters. The piercing scream of a vampire followed by the sounds of battle made me moved faster. When we opened the door on the second floor, our men were in the middle of a bloodbath. My bare foot collided with something furry. I looked down to see one of the werewolves ripped to sheds. Who? The sight of one of our men destroyed caused a surge of energy so strong I wondered if I would slit into pieces. I touched the cat's eye emerald, and it grew hot. A glow from 127
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
the necklace flashed through the hallway like a nuclear explosion. It lasted no longer than the flash of light bulb. The vampires disappeared. Only the black dust on the floor told us the flash from the emerald had killed them. I pointed to the dead werewolf. "Hawk," Joe said. I was at once sad for the young man and grateful it hadn't been Coop. I looked away from the body to see the werewolves all staring at me like I'd grown three heads. Only Raul, stakes in hand, hadn't changed. "Sandoval?" I asked. Raul shook his head and pointed to the door of my room. "Open it, Joe," I said. Joe pushed the door open. There were a dozen or so vampires in the room, all prostrate on the floor. Only Sandoval stood. His face showed he feared me, and this time he didn't come into my head. "Mercy," he said. How dare he? He hadn't shown mercy to Rosa. But it would be harder to kill the others since they'd obviously surrendered. "Queen," one of them said. "Have mercy our queen." When and how had I become fucking queen of the vampires? No way! No fucking way. Coop, in naked human form, joined me. I wanted to look at him, but I didn't dare. I concentrated on Sandoval. Joe came to stand at my other side. He didn't say anything. Neither did Coop, who'd always been quick enough in the past to order me around. 128
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I took mental inventory of those on the floor before me. Each had shed the blood of the innocent. Each deserved to die. Sandoval, who no longer had access to my mind, took my slow response as weakness. He threw himself into the air, teeth bared as he barreled toward me. I touched the necklace. With another flash, all of them were gone in an instant. Terrifying. Humbling. I didn't want this power. I finally turned to meet Coop's gaze. I'd half-expected accusations or worse, but I only saw empathy and sadness. "What am I?" "I've no idea, but if not for Joe, I'd worry more." "Joe?" I asked. "Joe's alive. He didn't die with all the rest. So it isn't that you kill all vampires, just those deserving." Coop shamed me. The first time I touched the necklace, I had an inkling something special could happen. The second time, I knew. And I hadn't considered I might harm Joe. Then again, Joe was a part of me. "There's so much I don't know. I'd thought I didn't have a clue before. Now it's a million times worse. No wonder Sandoval wanted this necklace." The necklace. The cat's eye emerald. Did John know this would happen when he placed it on my neck? I needed answers. **** 129
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
The journey back to the States sucked in more ways than one. We'd lost Hawk. If only I'd been faster, maybe I could have saved him. If only Coop and I hadn't taken two minutes to fuck in the restaurant. Both of us were miserable. And we didn't talk about it. Nobody wanted to talk at all, except Joe. He didn't leave my side. Symbolic of how I just didn't care about what was going on, I'd even worn one of pink outfits Coop had chosen for me without complaining. And I'd left all my guns behind with Chevy, who stayed to visit his family. All of them. I'd be climbing the walls, if not for the fact I'd called John. He promised he'd be at the LA airport when I arrived. Hopefully, no one would search his trunk, since he said he'd bring me replacements. "Half an hour and we'll get some answers," Joe said. I had the raging hots. I wanted to get some all right. Poor Joe. He eyed the necklace still at my throat and I sighed. "Do you regret what I did?" "No. I don't have any regrets. I just wonder what's next. Whatever I've become, it's not what I expected. And I thought we at Slayers Inc. are the experts." "Some experts." Coop, who sat directly behind me, spoke. "We're all lucky to be alive." His words sent flames of heat to every part of me. He didn't hate me? Did that mean I had a chance with him? Right now I'd settle for a quickie in the business-class lavatory. I willed Coop to get up. When he did, I almost lost it. Had I done it? Mile-high club. 130
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Joe groaned. I didn't know if Coop heard my mental wish, but Joe evidently did. Coop headed toward the unoccupied lav. I followed close behind him and didn't give him a chance to think when I nudged him aside to get the door shut behind us. "Jenna, the guys will all know what we're doing in here." "Does it embarrass you to be with a vampire?" "No. You are one of the best things that's ever happen to me." I didn't expect that. "Tell me more. Talk to me." I couldn't believe the words coming from my mouth. I'd just really pissed my pussy off. "There're going to be complications." Inside I was doing a happy dance. "There are always complications." "I think we can work it out." Woo-hoo! "I know we can." "It won't be easy." Trust me, I can be easy ... so easy. "Now that's settled, there's this other little thing..." My gaze settled on the bulge in the front of his tight jeans. I kicked off my mules and pulled up my short pink skirt. A moment later, Coop helped while I undid his jeans. The second I freed his cock, I threw my arms around Coop's neck and he lifted me. My knee collided with the wall with a resounding crash. Foreplay! He turned my back to the door, and I wrapped my legs around him. We were destined for this—to be like this. I lifted and he positioned his cock. I came down, while he thrust up. 131
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
I clamped onto him and when he tried to pump, he couldn't. I didn't want to hear my ass slamming against the door. I'd never live it down. I clenched and released. Clenched and released. Each time I tightened my grip, my pleasure increased. Coop's raspy breath in my ear encouraged me on. The next time I clenched, I didn't dare let go. I teetered on the verge. My preternatural heart hammered against my ribs. My necklace started to glow. Energy swirled around us, filling me until I wanted to burst. Coop began to push into me when I believed I'd held him tight. Each thrust carried me higher. The emerald pulsed. And so did I. Exquisite thrums of sparkling pleasure squeaked through my concentration. Coop pumped harder and then exploded inside me. Impaled on his large cock, I ripped into an orgasm so strong I didn't know if I'd survive. I panted and clawed through it. Woo-hoo! Yodel-lady-hoo! **** It's been three months now. Coop and I spend a good portion of the night making love every single night. Even the night he tried to kill John Wilson. We agreed to disagree where John is concerned. All this time, ever since Sandoval killed Rosa, I'd always believed Sandoval was my maker. Sandoval damaged me, but John had saved me. He's a vampire, too. While I don't have all the answers yet, I know more now. John says I'm not fully turned. Joe isn't either. 132
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
And Coop couldn't be happier to know he's not in love with a full-fledged vampire. He's perfectly content this way and so am I ... most of the time. If I could find a reason to carry a gun again... John wears a ring with a cat's eye emerald like the one I wear on my neck. He says the emerald reveals itself with age. The emerald is the reason I don't need to drink blood. It allows me move about in daylight and lately it's been giving me hour-long orgasms. Coop hasn't decided how he feels about that. Tee-hee. John gave Joe an emerald, too, and he's almost normal now. And we all work together at Slayers Inc., except John. Coop's incessant jealously would never allow that. Joe stuck his head in the doorway of my office. "You're wanted on the phone." "Thanks, Joe. Who's calling?" Joe harrumphed and rolled his gorgeous, gun-metal gray eyes. I knew what that meant and looked over my shoulder. The door to Coop's office was closed. This was Joe's way of saying John Wilson was on the phone. "John," I said when I picked up the nearest phone and watched Joe moved closer. "What's my favorite vampire doing?" John's familiar voice made me smile. "I didn't know if you were still speaking to me." I'd sided with Coop during their fight. "Are you two getting married yet?" 133
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
"Not yet. I'll make sure you get your invitation. Besides, you're too important for us now. Didn't I hear a national magazine named you Hollywood Hunk of the Year? Why do you care if I'm getting married or not? You must have your hands full with all the little starlets." "Coop's an ass." I didn't like John talking smack about my man. "Coop asked me to marry him. I haven't answered, since he wants me to hang up my guns." "The fool." "I'll tell him you said so. What can I do for you?" John's name-calling pissed me off. If anyone was going to call Coop a fool, I'd do it. "I have a job for you and it's a big one." My vampire heart started to race. It wasn't about the money. Slayers Inc. was in the black, even though Coop had hired Rosa's mother to work in the office. Plus my own mother had recently informed me she wanted a little something to keep her busy. "What is it?" "Someone murdered my hairdresser and made it look like an accident. Rumors have surfaced that I'm next." A reason to wear my guns! "When do I start?" [Back to Table of Contents]
134
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Brit Blaise More than two years have passed since Brit wrote her first story for Amber Quill, and it's been an adventure. No longer in Arizona, she resides on the outskirts of a small Ohio town with her extended family, which includes her daughter's family, too. The dream of restoring a Victorian has passed and the home she's found is big enough to get lost inside ... while writing her next story. She's taking the drastic changes one day at time! Keep in touch with her latest project at: www.myspace.com/britblaise www.Britblaise.com www.cavecreekcowboys.com www.butterscotchmartinigirls.com **** Don't miss Wanton Warrior, by Brit Blaise, available at AmberHeat.com! Tye and her beautiful sister need a miracle, but they never dream they'll find it in a Tifcan warrior from a colony of misfits. When the family's future is in jeopardy, they have nowhere to turn. A shapeshifter can't hold the key to their deliverance, can he? Cradon is a warrior with a mission. Not only does he intend to save his colony from extinction, but he also intends to win the heart of one of the Hajan sisters. When Tye gives him her virgin body, she opens his eyes to what he's never had ... 135
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
love. But can a Metran woman ever love a Cadite man with a beast inside him? **** Don't miss Seduction In Black And White, by Jaime Craig, available at Amber-Allure.com! History doesn't always die. Sometimes, it lives on. Discovering it can be too seductive to resist. A chance encounter on their first vacation in years introduces Jesse Madding to Marcus Brooker, a man who claims to have known the woman for whom vampire Gideon Keel abandoned his evil ways to fight for good. Though Jesse would rather get those answers from his lover, Gideon isn't nearly as forthcoming. So Jesse pursues the truth the only way he thinks he can. Gideon agreed to the New York trip, hoping for three weeks of pure pleasure with his human lovers. Pleasure is not all they found. **** Don't miss The Weaver, by M. J. Konevich, available at AmberQuill.com!
136
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Marcus Bradley has a gift ... he can see the future. But, like all great gifts, it comes with an even greater price. The events he can see always end in murder. It is up to him and his best friend, detective Jennifer Paxton of the Boston Police Department, to solve the latest murder of a mother and her young daughter. What Marcus finds along the way, however, will forever change the way he sees reality. This was no ordinary murder. This was planned and carried out by a being from another reality, one where the world is rapidly falling apart. Its designs are simple ... to destroy the Weaver, an allpowerful crystalline shard that holds all the realities separate. If it should succeed, all the worlds will crumble. Now it is up to Marcus and Jennifer to find a way to stop this from happening and, if they can, repair the Weaver before it is too late... [Back to Table of Contents]
137
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
Do you know about Amber Quill's Rewards Program? For every ten books bought, receive one free! Visit all three of Amber Quill's web sites and earn free books with Amber Rewards! **** AMBER HEAT EROTICA Gimme Fever!! Steamy, sensual genre fiction... www.AmberHeat.com **** AMBER ALLURE Where love is blind to gender... www.Amber-Allure.com **** 138
Slayers, Inc. by Brit Blaise
AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC Quality Books, Print And Electronic Genre fiction at its best! www.AmberQuill.com
If you are connected to the Internet, take a moment to rate this eBook by going back to your bookshelf at www.fictionwise.com.
139