A Bloody London Sunset (Sunset Vampire Series, Book 2) (9 page)

He wrinkled his nose at the turkey bacon as he sat before the kitchen counter and sniffed at a piece before nibbling tentatively on one end.

Katrina rolled her eyes. “It’s healthier than pork with fewer calories and less fat, but supposedly just as tasty as regular bacon.”

He shrugged and adopted a playful smirk as he offered a slice of the bacon to her. “Oh, really? Care to try some?”

She grimaced and stated emphatically, “Not on your life. I just cook it. The grocer was the one who said it was as good as pork. It’s all just stinky dead meat to me.”

“Thought so,” he replied knowingly and tried a bite of the omelet. “That’s really good, Kat,” he offered. “You’re getting pretty good at cooking breakfast.”

She smiled and watched him eat for a few minutes before glancing at her watch.

“I need to call Alton before I go, and there are some emails I need to respond to,” she explained before hastily kissing him on the cheek.

He frowned. “Still getting fan mail?”

She sighed. “Yes. Like you, I’m starting to wonder just how many other vampires there are in the world. And we’re apparently a lot more social than I gave us credit for.”

“Why are they interested in you all of a sudden?” he asked while taking a bite out of a jam-slathered biscuit.

She paused to contemplate his question. “Well, this is the first time in decades that a vampire has gone on a killing spree of their own kind like this. The last time was, of course, also by Chimalma. She was viewed in the same way that humans would a serial killer.”

“Oh,” he replied while thoughtfully considering her comparison.

Her eyes sparkled as she added, “But some of the vampires are intrigued about you, as well. It seems word got around about my mate contributing significantly to Chimalma’s demise, as well as sacrificing his life to save me.”

His eyes rose to stare at her intently, and his fork remained suspended in midair on its journey to his mouth. “And just how is word getting out about that?” he inquired suspiciously.
Great, that’s all I need, more vampire attention
.

Katrina shrugged. “I mentioned it to only a couple of vampires in confidence. One must have spread the details to others.”

He frowned and set his fork back down on the plate. “That’s not the kind of attention I’m excited about, Kat.”

She patted him on the back. “No offense, my love,” she began gently, “But I suspect most of my kind aren’t specifically interested in you for the most part. Many probably view you as ’that devoted human of hers.’ Everyone thinks that I was the one who issued the killing blow and rid our community of a scourge of sorts. However, I’m happy to set others straight on your important role in that fight. If you’d chosen not to pick up my late husband’s sword and come running to aid me...”

She let her voice trail off as she contemplated the horrible consequences of losing to Chimalma.
Likely, she would have hunted Caleb down and tortured him just for spite. But then, perhaps Alton and Paige would have been able to hide him away.
She was happy things turned out the way they did. No, she was ecstatic.

Caleb nodded and noted her distant expression. He tried to refocus his anxious feelings by picking up his fork and continuing to eat.

Katrina broke from her reverie and watched him in silence, wondering what he was thinking. “You know, a few of my kind are jealous by the level of sacrifice and commitment you showed to me,” she said proudly.
I’m a very lucky vampire
, she thought with satisfaction while playfully running her fingers through his hair.

“I’d do the same again,” he replied proudly. He finished swallowing a mouthful of food and changed the subject. “So, just how many vampires do you think there might be roaming around in the world?”

“Many,” she temporized, “Probably hundreds. Maybe more.”

His eyes widened as he contemplated hundreds of vampires roaming the world partaking in blood: some by voluntary donors and others through involuntary means. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt the world shrink a little bit in that moment. He was suddenly very appreciative for how compassionately and kindly Katrina treated him as her mate.

Katrina left to attend to emails and phone calls, leaving Caleb alone in the kitchen to clean up. As he washed dishes, he wondered what kind of events would unfold once she announced her desire to claim territorial boundaries. His thoughts darkened somewhat as the image of Devon Archibald’s face formed in his mind. Another thought inspired him to call Paige.

* * * *

Katrina sat at her computer hutch in the sublevel room sorting through emails, noting three more inquiries from vampires regarding her exploits with Chimalma. One was from Selesta in Brazil, another from Medyev in the Ukraine, and a third from Vince in Juneau, Alaska. She marveled at the continued stream of inquiries from around the world. Vampires were everywhere, it seemed. All the messages seemed innocent enough, but there appeared to be an undercurrent to each of them, almost as if some of the senders were subtly reaching out to her for acknowledgement, as if trying to get to know her better.

She picked up the phone handset next to her and dialed. Alton picked up by the second ring.

“Hello? Katrina?” he asked tentatively.

She wondered what he would say if it were Caleb instead of her calling. Then she frowned, wondering if he wouldn’t be as surprised as she imagined.

“Hi, Alton.”

“How are matters progressing?” he asked in his crisp English accent.

“Oh, I’m Miss Popularity in the world right now.”

“Still?” he asked, although his tone failed to convey surprise.

What more do you know, Alton?

“Three more messages,” she said. “Although I’ll have to answer them later. I have business with Devon Archibald in Marietta tonight.”

There was a pause before he inquired, “You’ve decided on a pact with him?”

“Perhaps. We’ll see how things go when I get there.”

“So, you still might kill him?”

“Again, I’ll see how things go,” she repeated, although part of her was still surprised she hadn’t killed Archibald. Caleb had been injured severely and might have died had she been even seconds later than she was. A pang of guilt shot through her at the thought.

Maybe I should have killed him
, she mused yet again. She had lost count of how many times she contemplated that in the past twenty-four hours.

“A pact could be helpful to you, you know,” suggested Alton. “There may be times when Devon could prove useful, particularly if you needed another set of eyes to watch over Caleb.”

She conceded such a benefit. Paige had been enjoying her life in southern California, so she wasn’t exactly handy to assist Caleb in a pinch. Still, her mate would need to build a rapport with the vampire, which might be unrealistic given their most recent encounter.
There are so many variables to consider.

“Why do I get the impression there’s more to this than you’re telling me?” she asked pointedly.

After a pause, he replied smoothly, “There seems to be a rift forming in the undercurrent of vampire politics as of late. I’m not yet certain regarding the specifics, but perhaps I’ll know more by the time you get to London in March.”

She frowned, pondering his revelation. “Do you think all the recent attention I’m getting has something to do with such a rift?”

“Perhaps, but as you’ve pointed out, we’ll have to see how things go,” he hedged. “Anything more on the subject would be unhelpful speculation on my part.”

She had known Alton long enough to realize he wouldn’t speak on a subject until he was ready, so there was no reason to waste time pressing him further. However, she resigned herself to keeping an open mind for the time being. It annoyed her that somehow the upcoming meeting with Devon was quickly taking on more significant connotations.

She sighed heavily.
Why does everything have to be so damned complicated?
“Fine. I’ll let you know how the meeting turns out when I return later tonight.”

“Good luck,” he offered. “And please give my best to Caleb.”

“Will do,” she replied and hung up.

The drive to Marietta was uneventful and gave Katrina quiet time to consider what Alton said, as well as to strategize how to proceed with Devon Archibald.

Her thoughts drifted to Caleb, who had been less than happy that she was meeting with his attacker. Before leaving, he told her how he felt as if an aggressor’s hostile actions were being ignored in favor of a summit. She had chuckled at his political analogy and wondered if he had been watching too much cable network news lately. Still, she couldn’t blame him for the way he felt. She still harbored doubts regarding her own resolve that night.

Upon entering Marietta, she paid closer attention to her car’s GPS regarding the proper route to Devon’s home. That part of town was one of the older neighborhoods located on the outskirts of the downtown area. She pulled into the narrow, cracked driveway in front of the house, her eyes sweeping the structure before her. The two-story, square brick home was an example of utilitarian architecture from the late 1950s or early 1960s. A series of narrow windows spanned the front of the house, each with closed blinds.

There was no garage, and only a single car was parked in the driveway. As she exited her car, she briefly noted the older model Pontiac sedan, which had a faded paint job. She paused in the chilly night air to glance up and down the length of the neighborhood, noting surprisingly little traffic at such an early hour. Many of the surrounding homes emanated the glow of interior lights, and most driveways were occupied by at least one vehicle.

She approached the front porch with its halo of light around the lamp fixture next to the front door. She chuckled at the wholly unnecessary waste of electricity given her kind’s night vision and wondered why Devon had bothered with the gesture. She rang the doorbell and waited patiently. She heard a figure approach the door from inside before the deadbolt made a sound.

The door opened slowly, and the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Devon Archibald appeared before her. He was dressed in gray slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled partway up his arms. The surface of his smooth scalp appeared to shine slightly, as if just recently shaved and rubbed with lotion. He appeared mostly relaxed, though slightly wary. However, he smiled invitingly as he stood before her. The notion of his unease struck her as humorous considering that he towered over her like a giant.

“Welcome, Katrina Rawlings,” he offered in a deep voice. “Please come in.”

Katrina glided past him and into a small entryway with polished wooden stairs on her left leading up to the second floor. To the right was a short hallway that passed the kitchen and led to a dining room. Devon gestured towards the living room directly before her.

The room was simple-looking. Katrina noted a small bookcase along the wall to the right as she entered, populated by older volumes of classic literature. A flat-panel TV sat atop a faux wood stand to the left of the entrance, and the remainder of the living room’s furniture consisted of a sofa with matching end tables, a worn leather recliner with a small table along the left wall, and a central glass-topped coffee table set before the couch. The walls were painted flat white, and there were only three pictures hanging in the room, each of pastoral wildlife scenes.

“I welcome you to my home, such as it is,” Devon said. “Won’t you please sit down? May I offer you a glass of water or perhaps some wine? I apologize for having no blood on hand, as might be more fitting.”

Katrina absently perched on the edge of one end of the couch, distracted by the revelation that the vampire had no blood supply at his home. “No, thank you,” she declined politely. “Pardon me for asking, but did I hear you correctly that you have no blood stock?”

He took a seat in the recliner near the couch. “I regret I don’t. For one, I prefer fresh blood over stored. And for another, the expense is cumbersome on my limited budget.”

Katrina frowned. His statement bothered her in that Devon apparently hunted his blood from fresh sources, a fact that portended potential complications with his living in proximity to Atlanta.

“So, you don’t subscribe to a blood delivery service?”

“Alas, no,” he responded. “I hunt when my hunger is most pressing.”

“But doesn’t that tend to make your stay around humans particularly tenuous? You are a vampire of large stature, and your blood need is likely beyond the regular capacity of live donors on a frequent basis,” she ventured.

Devon inclined his head in deference. “That’s correct. However, I make it a point to reside in locations with easy accessibility to populations of wildlife, such as deer.”

“So humans --”

“-- are usually prey of opportunity, which is less common, unfortunately. I primarily sustain myself on larger animals. Humans are very much the occasional prized steak in a regular diet of chicken.”

The edges of her mouth upturned with amusement at his analogy. Despite her misgivings, there was something she liked about him. “And my mate…”

“-- was what I thought to be an opportune steak, though I was actually stalking a wild boar the night I ran across him,” he supplied.

“So pork was on the menu instead of chicken that night,” she offered wryly.

Devon grinned, displaying a set of large white teeth. “Exactly.”

Katrina nodded thoughtfully.

“How’s your mate?” he asked.

Her expression turned serious. “Caleb’s feeling much better, thank you. But his injuries were worse than I expected once I got him home.”

“My apologies, of course,” he offered. “I’ll do my best to extend my apologies in person when, that is if, I see him again.”

I think he appreciates the gravity of my visit
, she considered.
That easily explains the undercurrent of tension when he answered the door.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Devon,” she encouraged, sitting back in a more relaxed fashion. Her assessment wouldn’t be complete without a better understanding of his background.