Dalton, Tymber - Brimstone Blues [Brimstone Vampires 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (21 page)

“How did he live so long?”

Matthias shrugged. “He’s like an antidemon, a spirit that could take whatever form he chose, and he chose the one you see. He’s not really a cat, he just looks like one.”

“Why does he stay at the office?”

“It’s where he chooses to be. He is the best early-warning system I could ever ask for.”

True. If it wasn’t for Murry, the
daemon pulverem
would have killed her.

“That’s why we had to move from the LA office in the first place,” Matthias continued. “He discovered our security team was infiltrated.”

* * * *

They stopped for the night in St. Louis. As much as Taz wanted to get home, she wanted a shower and a soft bed even more.

Cuddling up to Matthias felt right, there was no denying. She’d get to spend hundreds of years with this man?

She was a lucky woman.

“There are so many places I want to take you, Taz,” he whispered, kissing her. “So many places I’ve been that I wished I had a soul mate to share them with.”

“Like where?”

He nuzzled her neck. “Key West, for starters. I’d love to watch the sunset at Mallory Square with you. I’d love to dive with the stingrays off Grand Cayman with you, take you on a tour of places I’ve been throughout my life. Britain, Ireland, Europe.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere, Matthias.”

They lay quietly for a few minutes. He thought she might be drifting off to sleep when she spoke again. “What are the Others?”

“That’s hard to say. We don’t know a lot about them, unfortunately.”

“My dad said they’re sort of like werewolves.” The glimpse she’d had of the severed head of the one that nearly killed Matthias had churned her stomach.

“Yes and no. They were the origin of the myth, those like them. They’re also the Yeti and Bigfoot and the Swamp Ape and all those kinds of legends.”

“Chupacabra?”

“That, too. Anything that’s a bipedal unidentified thing, it’s most likely where a group of Others have one of their bases.”

“Can they really change how they look?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Supposedly they can, but who knows if that’s true or not? We don’t know for sure. All I know is they don’t call themselves ‘Others,’ that’s just a label we gave them eons ago to distinguish them from us and from humans. They call themselves ‘lycans.’”

She thought about it. “Lycanthropes?”

He nodded. “Different from shape-shifters. The lycans are tightly knit. Unfortunately, we don’t know as much about them as we’d like.”

“You were ready when that one attacked me at my house that night.”

“I was ready for whatever was going to attack. I thought it was another
daemon pulverem
,
at first. I didn’t know it was an Other until we got inside.”

“Okay, while we’re on the subject, what’s with the sword?” She noticed he didn’t have it with him.

“It’s a very old relic. Unfortunately I don’t know a lot about it, it’s that old. It’s been passed down from generation to generation, and if you want to destroy a
daemon pulverem
—”

“Or behead a lycan,” she smiled.

“Yes,” he agreed, “or that. It’s the best thing to use. You can destroy a
daemon pulverem
other ways, but the sword has a special property that dissolves a
daemon pulverem’s
bond with its form.”

“But doesn’t kill a
daemon pulverem
?”

“No. Like I told you, the energy isn’t destroyed, it just dissolves the bond, the form the body has. The creature can reform another body and come back, but it takes a while.”

“Can you kill its energy?”

“Yes, but it involves rituals that I have no idea how to perform.”

“Who does?”

“Ra—” He stopped.

“Rafe?” she finished.

He nodded. “He studied that, knew a lot about it. Which is another reason he was helping us, and was going to help train you.”

“Oh.”

Matthias’ voice softened. “He was incredibly well versed in ‘arcane’ knowledge. Much of it learned while he was with Cassandra. She was very skilled with the knowledge and lore available to her at the time.”

Taz sensed there was more behind his words than he let on, but she let it go.

Matthias continued. “Rafe took that knowledge and built upon it. He had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.”

“He diverted his energy after she died?”

Matthias no longer met her gaze. “Yes. He also spent centuries perfecting his skills and control. Just because a vampire has powers doesn’t mean they’re strong, especially if they can’t focus. He was a master at that, put many who were much more powerful than him to shame. There will never be another like him.”

* * * *

Matthias was asleep, but Taz knew there was no rest for her yet. That skin-crawling feeling had returned, a nagging thought drumming constantly. Rafael’s laptop bag sat by the desk.

Might as well.

She took a deep breath and opened Rafael’s e-mail. Taz was used to getting dozens, if not hundreds, of e-mails a day. His e-mail hadn’t been checked since before his death, and only twenty downloaded.

Two were spam. Seventeen were newsletters, announcements, general stuff from e-mail lists he was on.

Delete.

The last was from a woman, dated just that morning. Taz fought the unexpected surge of jealousy, knowing full well Rafe had a life outside of the one day they shared together. She wasn’t exactly in a position to be jealous.

Rafael, I haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks. I left you some messages, but you haven’t called me back. Are you mad at me? Give me a call, I’m worried. Luv ya!—Trish.

Trish, hmm?

A ghostly chuckle rumbled through her brain.
Wonderful, just what I need, to have
that
back now.
The voice had been quiet ever since the oil change incident.

The silence had been blissful.

Taz found Rafael’s cell phone in the laptop bag and turned it on. Sure enough, there were several voice mails. Taz played them.

The girl sounded younger than her. She also sounded worried, but it was hard to tell by the tone and content of the messages if she was more than a friend. Her cell number showed up on the outgoing call logs as Trish. When Taz matched the number to the incoming list, she found quite a few.

Taz felt bad. Obviously, the girl had no idea what happened. Logging into the corporate VPN, she found the information she needed, punched the number into her cell phone, and went into the bathroom before hitting
send
.

He answered on the second ring. “Davidson.”

“It’s Anastazia Proctor.”

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry it’s late, but I need a favor.” She detailed what she wanted and read him the cell number from Rafael’s phone.

“Can you hold on a moment? I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks.” Taz waited several minutes, checking to make sure the call didn’t drop. He finally came back on the line. “I’ve got it. Patricia Nunez…” and read off an Atlanta address. Taz wrote it down on the hotel notepad she’d brought in with her.

“Thanks, Davidson.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

She hung up. It was too late to call her tonight.

Then again, this wasn’t exactly the kind of news you wanted to drop on someone over the phone. They would be in Atlanta late tomorrow. She could call the girl and try to meet with her there, tell her face-to-face.

“Want to see the competition?”
Crap, the voice
was
back, and stronger than ever.

Oh, God, would that please, shut the hell UP!

Another ghostly chuckle.

This would drive her crazy if it continued. Eventually she’d break down and tell Matthias it was still happening. Keeping a barrier around it was taking a major toll, and she hated keeping secrets from him.

She just couldn’t bring herself to tell him the whole truth, even though she suspected he knew more than he was letting on. Sparing her the embarrassment of telling her she was crazy, perhaps?

When she told Matthias about Trish the next morning, he frowned. “We can call her, Taz. We don’t need to stop by.”

She let her anger take over. “What the fuck? Matthias, she was
dating
him. You can’t drop a bomb on her like that, you insensitive male bastard!”

After a few moments, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Taz sighed and put her arms around him. “We’ve been dating for what, a few weeks now, and you’ve seen me at my worst. Why aren’t you running and screaming yet?”

A sly smile teased his lips and started the familiar tingle between her legs. “Because you haven’t seen me at
my
worst,
cara
. This is one contest I know I could easily win, if I so chose.”

* * * *

The girl lived in a small apartment near Turner Field, where the Braves played. She looked nervous but welcomed them in. Her apartment was clean and tidy if sparsely furnished. Maybe in her early twenties, Taz got the feeling she was a college student, or recently graduated.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Trish asked. “I don’t have much, just water and Coke, but you’re welcomed to it.”

Taz shook her head. “No, thank you. Can we sit and talk for a few minutes?”

The girl swallowed and nervously nodded. Taz sensed the girl knew something was seriously wrong but was trying to talk herself into believing the best.

Trish sat in a chair by the end of the couch while Taz took the end closest to her. Taz reached over, took her hand, and looked the girl in the eyes.

“I’m afraid we have some bad news about Rafael Collins.”

The girl’s eyes widened. Taz wasn’t trying to take control and fought the urge to smooth this over for her. Trish needed to feel her grief, not have it masked.

“What happened?”

Matthias stayed silent and let Taz take point. “He had a heart attack. He came out to Yellowstone National Park for a meeting with us and some business associates. I’m so sorry, but he died.”

Trish didn’t need to know Rafael was suffocated by another vampire not too long after Taz had played happy hooker succubus with his head because she was pissed at Matthias.

Trish also didn’t need to know how much Taz loved him.

The girl froze, trying to process the information, then her tears fell. “He’s dead?”

“I’m so sorry.”
I feel like I killed him, but you don’t need to know that, either.