Читать книгу Taken By The Others - Jess Haines - Страница 9

Chapter 3

By nine thirty, I was getting pissed. Chaz was supposed to have shown up hours ago. He wasn’t picking up when I called. I’d turned my cell back on once I got home–no missed calls, voice mails, or text messages. Nothing on the answering machine at home. I even checked my e-mail–nothing but spam. That made two no-call-no-shows from him so far this month.

Where was he?

The last time it happened, he said it was pack business. Nothing to worry myself about. Something unavoidable. Something like when he called in his pack mates to help deal with David Borowsky, psychotic sorcerer extraordinaire, and his unwilling pack of lap-Weres. Nothing I wanted to get involved in, or know anything about.

After a while, annoyed and tired of waiting, I ordered Chinese from down the street and sat down in front of my computer. Curiosity getting the better of me, I did a Web search for any information about Max Carlyle. Nothing came up except hits that I was pretty sure had nothing to do with the person Jack had been talking about. A movie character? Surely not.

I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Royce knew something about this guy. Jack knew something about this guy. The idea of talking to either one of them wasn’t appealing. Chaz might know something, but I was more than a little ticked off at his inability to pick up a phone to call me and say, “Sorry, honey, running late,” or even a simple “An emergency came up, I won’t be around.” For his sake, his butt better be rotting in a gutter somewhere or I was seriously going to rip him a new one the next time I saw him.

Out of my three choices, Royce seemed the least offensive of the bunch. Chaz would hate that I’d called him. He’d hate it even more if I set up a meeting with him.

I reached for my cell.

“Well, this is decidedly unexpected,” came the dryly amused response from the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about what I said, and hanging up on you earlier.”

“An apology?” he said, his quiet laughter making me grit my teeth. “I must admit, I did not anticipate this from you.”

“Listen, I know I made a mistake. You don’t have to rub it in. Are you still willing to meet with me or not?”

“Of course. We’ll put that little faux pas behind us. I realize it may be a trifle late for you, but I would suggest we meet as soon as possible so you understand what you will be dealing with once Max gets into town. What would be convenient for you?”

I spoke without thinking. “You know where my apartment is. Why don’t you just come over?”

“I need to wrap some things up at the office, but I can be there in about an hour.”

“Okay. See you then.”

After he hung up, I stared at the cell phone cradled in my hand. I’d just invited Alec Royce, the oldest and most powerful vampire in the United States, to come to my apartment.

Guess it beat waiting for Chaz to show up.

With that thought in mind, I got off my butt and started tidying up the place. I shoved loose papers lying around on my desk into a drawer and turned off the computer monitor. I loaded the dishes piled in the sink into the dishwasher, then grabbed my shoes from by the door and my jacket off the arm of the couch and tossed them in the bedroom closet. I figured that would do well enough for the fastidious Royce.

Part of me even wanted to pass by the mirror to see how I looked. The rest of me knew it was stupid and that this was for unofficial business, not a client or even a friend. Besides, I didn’t want to give Royce the wrong idea. As good as the vampire looked, he was a vampire. You know the sort. The typical tall, dark, and handsome man who also happens to be an evil, bloodsucking creature of the night. Not the type of guy you take home to Mom. Not like Chaz.

Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to take some precautions, I dug into my dresser and pulled out one of my guns. I’d picked them up way back when I thought Royce was trying to kill me. Turned out at the time Royce just wanted to make me his living slave and it was someone else who was out to kill me. Funny how these things turn out.

While I was in the drawer, I ran my fingertips over the leather belt with three matching silver stakes in their sheaths. I could literally feel discontent radiating from the thing.

“Sorry,” I said, feeling more apologetic toward the inanimate object than I was toward the vampire a few minutes ago. “Maybe after Royce is gone, I’ll take you out. Not right now.”

There was a brief sense of anger, but the bad vibes and discontent dissipated. Still, I could practically hear it grumbling. The spirit inhabiting the thing was not happy being cooped up in my drawer. Sometimes I took it out and wore it around the apartment when I was alone. The only way for it to experience life was through the one wearing it, and I was the first person to take any notice of what it wanted for the last fifteen years or so. It had been a while since the last time I took it out. I felt bad leaving it rotting with my winter clothes, but I couldn’t exactly walk around the city with a bunch of deadly weapons wrapped around my waist.

Then again, this was New York.

Whatever. I’d worry about the belt’s hurt feelings later, after I was done dealing with Royce. Sliding the drawer shut, I headed out to the living room and set the gun on an end table. Just in case the vamp got any funny ideas. I wasn’t as good a shot without the belt, but I figured the visible threat would serve better than any words I could dish out. Aside from which, if it got to the point where I needed to use the gun to deal with Royce, I was royally screwed anyway.

Next came perfume. I went into the bathroom and dug around under the sink until I found one of the small glass vials that held cinnamon-and clove-scented liquid. It gleamed a pale golden hue in the harsh fluorescent light. Dabbing a couple of drops onto my wrist, I rubbed it into the skin and then applied some to my throat, right above the pulse point.

The Amber Kiss perfume was a concoction made by some alchemists centuries ago that keeps Others from being able to pick up the wearer’s scent and suppresses the appetite of a vampire. It makes me smell less like food, basically. I liked the way the stuff smelled, though Chaz didn’t and complained that it made him sneeze. I didn’t need it to protect against him, of course, but I would wear it if it worked on vamps and other, hungrier, Weres. Fortunately for me, my encounters with such creatures were infrequent enough that I had a supply to last a few lifetimes.

Lastly, I adjusted the little black charm I was wearing so it lay hidden under my blouse. According to Arnold, it kept magi and vamps from using their mind-mojo on me.

Arnold, Sara’s current beau, had given me all of the stuff I used as protection against Others. He also happened to be head of the security section for The Circle, the East Coast’s premier coven of actively practicing magi.

Frankly, I wouldn’t be alive right now if not for all the help Arnold had given me the last few months. It was with the help of his magic, his ideas, and his choice of weaponry that I made it out on top fighting against the Borowsky kid and his girlfriend. I was also glad Arnold and Sara had hooked up. They’d taken a much-needed vacation out to Sara’s property in the Hamptons for the last two weeks and were due back on Sunday. I wouldn’t pester him with questions until they were back. Hopefully Royce would be cooperative enough as to let me know exactly what was going on before I had to resort to bugging Arnold about it. Knowing the vampire, I wouldn’t hold my breath.

I knew very well that Royce’s modus operandi was essentially “manipulate first, ask questions later.” He’d see my contacting him as an opportunity of some kind and use it to the hilt. The only question was how he intended to go about it. I’d have to be on my toes to make sure I didn’t fall for any of his tricks or machinations.

Like it or not, we were still contractually bound. As far as I knew, we were not in any danger that might lead him to needing me or my skill set. However, there was a chance he might try to talk me into working for him. I had the feeling he was afraid of me, and that was why he was always trying to find a way to get me under his thumb. Better to control that which you fear than be ruled by it, right? Was I playing right into his clutches by inviting him over?

Well, yes.

However, unlike the first few times we’d met, this time I knew exactly what he was capable of and would be on guard. I’d been able to avoid his manipulations in the past, so with some ingenuity, a little luck, and by keeping alert for his tricks, I should be able to do it again.

While I rubbed the last little bit of the Amber Kiss into my skin, I could hear my cell chiming from the other room. A text message.

When I opened it up, I saw it was from Chaz. I glanced at the time; it was already past eleven. Bastard.

SORRY ABOUT 2NITE. PACK EMERG. WILL CALL U LATER. RAIN CHECK 4 SAT? LOVE U.

Disgusted, I tossed the phone back down on the table. He was three hours late getting back to me. I’d answer him when I was good and ready.

Muttering darkly, I huffed over to the couch and sat down. I flicked on the TV but didn’t focus on the screen as I stared. I wasn’t sure why I was so mad. I mean, things came up at work all the time that made me late for our dates. It wasn’t entirely fair of me to be pissed at him for putting his responsibility to his pack first–but I could not let go of my anger.

About five minutes after I sat down, I heard a brisk rapping. I remembered the Chinese food I’d ordered that felt like a decade ago, and my stomach growled right on cue.

“One sec, be right there!” I jumped up and hurried to the door, snagging up my purse on the way to pay the delivery guy.

I pulled open the door, and was met by the glowing red eyes and bared fangs of a very pissed-off-looking vampire.