Good, the Bad, and the Vampire (19 page)

A horrid burning sensation sizzled in Trixie's blood as the talons tore her skin and the poison hit her bloodstream. She screamed in pain and rage and stumbled backward, clutching the wound on her arm. Her vision blurred as the poison seeped through her body, but she continued to fight.

The gargoyle kept coming, despite each punch she landed and every powerful kick. For the first time since that night in the tunnels when Olivia found her, Trixie could see death's door. The only difference was that this time she didn't want to die.

For once in her life, human or vampire, she had several good reasons to live. She had too much to lose to simply give up and tumble into the abyss of oblivion.

Dakota. Chelsea. Rebecca. Family. Love.

Trixie's strength drained from her body by the second. She cursed the fact that she hadn't had a live feed for so long. If she had fed from a live human, maybe the poison wouldn't be affecting her so strongly. And that was when she knew she only had one choice left.

Badly wounded and with no weapon, there was only one other option—feed off the gargoyle. She didn't know what gargoyle blood would do to her but she did know that if she drained the beast, at least it would no longer be a threat to her or Dakota.

Almost completely blinded by the poison, Trixie pushed herself off the ground as the creature lunged toward her. With one final rush of strength, she did a flip in midair before landing on the gargoyle's back with a grunt. She hung on tightly as it bucked and shrieked in a desperate attempt to shake her off, but Trixie had an ironclad grip. Her life and her family depended on it.

Dakota had said he wanted to teach her how to ride, but this was probably not what he had in mind. She'd seen him ride that gargoyle in the alley in New York City, and even through the pain and confusion, it had reminded her of a bucking bronco.

Her arms were clamped tightly around the gargoyle's neck and her legs clenched down like Dakota's had, pinning the wings so it couldn't fly. She reared her head back and with a bellow of rage, she sank her fangs into the gargoyle's thick leathery flesh. As soon as the potent blood hit her tongue, Trixie's entire body lit up like the Fourth of July. Power surged beneath her skin like an electric current, reenergizing her strength like never before. She drank greedily and the gargoyle dropped to his knees, quickly weakened by the loss of blood, but Trixie didn't relent.

Along with the power surge came the blood memories of her attacker. It was Henry.

He'd snuck out again for a night of freedom among the humans. Whiskey. Music. Dancing. A young woman with raven hair and a sexy smile. A quickie beneath the stars in the bed of his pickup truck. He stumbled into the darkness still high off the sex; he was stopped by an evil grin and the seductive whisper of a vampire's glamour effect.

Jonner's face was the final image that filled Trixie's mind.

Dakota wrestled with Jonner in midair, still not quite believing the truth.

His maker was alive. The son of a bitch had been alive all along.

Dakota swept around Jonner, who glared at him with a familiar wicked grin. The older vampire easily dodged the silver throwing stars that were flung in his direction. Dakota lunged again, wanting to rip Jonner's heart out of his chest for the lies and betrayal, but when he spotted the gargoyle attacking Trixie on the ground below, he lost his focus.

“No!” Dakota's chest clenched with fear when his bloodmate, the only woman he'd ever dared love, went tumbling to the ground beneath the bulk of an attacking gargoyle. “Trixie!”

That was why he didn't see the next blow coming.

Something sharp swept across his back and tore through his leather coat and shirt. The force of it knocked him out of the sky and sent him tumbling to the ground. Dakota didn't feel the pain at first, too consumed by worry about Trixie. But when he tried to get to his feet, he knew his situation was dire. White-hot agony ripped through his bloodstream and sent him to his knees as Jonner hit him with another blow. This time, the pain was instantaneous and almost blinded him.

Dakota gritted his teeth and struggled to stand, but he was robbed of most of his strength. Jonner must have shot him or stabbed him with silver. That
had
to be what was rippling though his body and killing him slowly. Writhing against the pain, his body contorting, Dakota willed himself to his knees and found himself staring into the unfeeling face of his maker.

“It's fitting, really.” Jonner let out a short laugh and adjusted the long coat he was wearing. The flowery scent of a gargoyle rolled off him, only adding to Dakota's confusion. “You almost died out here over fifty years ago, but I needed another pair of eyes and you were in the right place at the right time.”

“Why?”

“You were young, strong, and you knew this area like the back of your hand.” Jonner braced his hands on his knees and made a
tsking
noise. “Not so strong anymore.”

“Fuck you,” Dakota seethed. He bared his fangs and pushed himself to one knee before finally standing on his own two feet. “You used me. There was no top secret task force. You were after the gold the whole damn time. You let that gargoyle almost kill me just so you could turn me and get me to help you hunt them down.”

“True.” Jonner sighed. A wicked grin slithered over his face as he pulled something from beneath his jacket. Dakota shook his head, trying to clear his vision, and a moment later the severed hand of a gargoyle came into focus. “Well, partially true. There was no gargoyle that night, just this handy little souvenir from our heist in the gargoyles' lair. It turns out that the poison on the claws works with or without a living, breathing gargoyle. Their flesh makes a lovely coat too, don't you think? Cloaks my scent nicely.”

“You son of a bitch.” Dakota wavered on his feet but kept his sights on Jonner. The coat his maker wore was made from the skin of a gargoyle. “You're a psycho. Wiping out the gargoyles for profit?”

“The gargoyles are too stupid to live,” Jonner spat out. “The hideous wretches belong hidden away underground. And the witch? She was a great fuck and cast a hell of a spell, turning us into daywalkers for the big heist, but she was too clingy. I gave the whiny bitch her cut of the gold like we agreed on and then told her to take a hike.”

“Didn't work out so well for you, did it?” Dakota slid his fingers beneath the sleeve of his coat and stilled when they brushed the handle of the dagger. “She made your gold disappear.”

“Stupid whore,” Jonner shouted. He waved the gargoyle claw and his fangs glinted in the moonlight. “It all vanished. All of it. Disappeared right in front of me. Before I drained her dry, she told me that only another Rathbone witch would be able to find the gold. She said that was my punishment for refusing her love,” he said with sarcasm. “Can you believe that shit? I gave her enough gold to set her up for life and the dumb broad was babbling about love.”

“Why fake your death?” Dakota tried to keep him talking, fighting the panic when he realized Trixie wasn't moving. “Why didn't you keep doing what you were doing?”

“The Presidium kept getting in my way,” Jonner scoffed. “I didn't want them running my entire existence. I had another fifty years to serve as a sentry and that was more than I wanted to do. You know how they are. Honor, duty, and all that crap. Death was more appealing.” He grinned. “I had enough money squirreled away from some of my other enterprises…so I waited. I knew if I waited long enough, eventually I'd find one of the Rathbone witches. Pilar was smarter than I gave her credit for though. She not only hid the gold but she hid her kids too. She knew I'd go after them to use them to find the gold, so she cloaked them in a spell. But like most spells, it eventually wore off.”

Jonner moved slowly to his right and Dakota countered, matching him. When he caught sight of where Jonner was heading, fury fired through him. Trixie.

“You waited for one of her descendants to surface.” Dakota blinked to try and clear his vision, but it was getting worse.

“Looks like my waiting paid off.”

In a flash, Jonner grabbed Trixie by the neck and pulled her to her feet. She was barely conscious, the gargoyle at her feet close to dead. Dakota started toward him but Jonner held the gargoyle claw to Trixie's throat, stopping him in his tracks. Jonner held her limp form against his chest and leaned in before running his tongue along her throat. “Mmm…I bet she tastes sweet. Tell me, Shelton. Is she as good a fuck as her great-granny?”

Rage-fueled bile rose in Dakota's throat. “Put her down.” He steadied himself and slowly moved his hand toward his other wrist. The sterling-silver sentry dagger—the one he'd cherished for so many years, the one he'd thought was an honorable weapon left over from his dead maker—was mere inches from his grasp. “You got what you wanted. The gold is under there. Take it and get the fuck away from us.”

“I need your little vampire-witch slut to open it up for me.” He shook Trixie violently and shouted, “Anyone home? Wake up, witch. You have a job to do.”

Trixie's eyes snapped open at the same moment Dakota's fingers curled around the leather-bound handle of the sentry dagger. Movement to the right caught Jonner's attention momentarily, and at the same instant, the pungent scent of a gargoyle filled the night. The older vampire hissed and snapped his head toward the disturbance in the air.

“I have something of yours, Jonner,” Dakota murmured. “It's about time you get it back.”

Now, Dakota
. Trixie's voice shouted into his mind.
Throw it.

At the same instant Dakota threw the dagger, Trixie grabbed the vampire's arm and hurled her legs up, flipping herself over Jonner's head and out of his grasp. She landed in a crouch behind Jonner as the dagger slammed into his chest. The only sight more satisfying than the look of shock on his face was the moment when the traitorous bastard burst into flames and dissolved into a pile of dust.

Exhausted and barely able to stay conscious, Dakota fell to the ground in a heap. Trixie was safe. The gargoyles would get their gold back. As the world around him faded, a smile curved his lips because he had done what he wanted.

He made things right.

Dakota Shelton could die a happy man.

* * *

“Dakota!” Trixie screamed his name and flew to him. She knelt by his side and pulled his head into her lap, but he was completely unconscious. “Baby, please wake up.”

Blood seeped from the wounds on his back, soaking her jeans, a sickening sign of the severity of his injuries. That poison was ravaging him from the inside out. Without gargoyle blood, Dakota was going to die.

A sob of desperation escaped her lips. She looked around frantically but Henry was gone. He must have come to and run off. Not that she could blame him; he was as much a victim as anyone else. Yet another person manipulated and used by Jonner.

Trixie pierced the skin of her wrist with her fangs before holding it over Dakota's mouth and allowing the blood to do its job. She knew the odds of her blood helping him were slim, but it was her last hope.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as the sun began to make its arrival but still he did not stir. She clung to him and whispered into his mind.
Dakota…please don't leave me. I love you
.

She was met with deafening and heartbreaking silence.

Trixie let out a shuddering sob as a pale glow burned brighter on the horizon.

If the bloodmate bond hadn't worked, they'd both be dead in a few minutes anyway. Trixie pushed a lock of hair aside and pressed a kiss to Dakota's forehead, allowing his distinct scent of sandalwood and leather to surround her.

If they were going to die, then at least they would be together.

Movement in the trees caught her attention. Trixie bared her fangs and hissed a warning. The raspy voice of a man whispered through the trees and with it came a gargoyle's scent. “Let me help.”

At first she thought that Henry had returned. Trixie glanced to her left and a man emerged from behind a tree trunk. To her surprise, she found herself staring into a familiar face—it was Chelsea's boyfriend, Gatlin.

“Gatlin?” Trixie sniffled and held on to Dakota protectively, but when she realized Gatlin was alone, it only increased her panic. “What are you doing here? Where's my granddaughter?”

“Rebecca is safe.” He held up both hands and dipped his head. “I promise. I'm sorry I ran, but I knew Jonner was back and I had to keep her away from him.” He extended his arm to Trixie. “Here. Use my blood to heal him.”

“Are you serious?” She flicked her gaze to his bare forearm. “After everything you've done, why should I trust you?”

“Because I love your daughter.” Gatlin dropped to his knees, his arm extended. “If you let me help Dakota, he'll be able to tell you everything when he wakes up.”

Trixie paused and bit her lower lip before casting a glance to the ever-brightening sky. A sliver of the sun had crested, and though the shade of the trees would buy them some time, it definitely would not be a lot.

“You should hurry,” he whispered. “The poison moves fast and gargoyle blood is the only cure.”

Trixie hesitated. Could it be a trick?

“Time's running out.” He jerked his head to the horizon. “In a few minutes, I won't have anything to offer. After all, you can't get blood from a stone.” A sheepish grin curved his lips. “And make sure he takes it all. Jonner dosed him heavily.”

“All of it? But if he takes too much—”

“Just do it,” he snapped. His expression softened and his mouth set in a grim line. “I can't change what I did all those years ago, but I can do this. I can make Chelsea and Rebecca proud of me. I want to leave my daughter more than a legacy of betrayal.”

“Fine.” Trixie snapped her mouth open and bared her fangs. “But if you make one wrong move, make no mistake about it, I
will
eviscerate you.”

“Right.” Gatlin's eyes widened and he swallowed hard but he kept his arm out. “I-I understand.”

With no other options, Trixie took his wrist in her hand and bit down, keeping her eyes locked with his. He winced and when the wound began to bleed, Gatlin brought it to Dakota's mouth. To Trixie's utter relief, within seconds Dakota's lips clamped over the gargoyle's wrist and he drank greedily.

A few minutes passed, and with each second, Dakota grew stronger. At the same time, Gatlin was starting to fade. He slumped to a sitting position and his eyes fluttered closed, all the color draining from his face. Trixie helped Dakota sit up as he released Gatlin's arm and licked the wound closed. She barely noticed when Gatlin crawled over to the base of one of the trees, seeking out the protective shade.

Without waiting for Dakota to say a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, her mind instantly seeking out his.
I almost lost you
. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, reveling in the feel of his strong body and the beautiful, comforting scent of sandalwood.

Dakota pulled back and cradled her face in his hands. He pressed a firm kiss to her lips, and when his mind slipped into hers, she almost wept with relief.
Baby, you ain't never gettin' rid of me.

Trixie giggled and rested her forehead against his. She was so caught up in the feel of him that it took her a moment to realize that the sun had risen. A delicious blanket of warmth, one she vaguely could recall from her human life, spread slowly over them. Trixie linked her fingers with his. Golden rays of sunlight danced over their intertwined hands, and for the first time in decades, neither of them was burned by it.

“Oh my God,” Trixie said with pure wonder. “It worked. The bloodmate bond worked.”

“See that, woman.” Dakota pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and pulled her up with him. “Now you're never gettin' away. Daytime. Nighttime. Darlin', I'm not gonna give you a moment's peace.”

“You better not.” Trixie punched him playfully in the gut, but her smile faded quickly when she spotted Gatlin. “We might be daywalkers, but Gatlin isn't.”

Dakota and Trixie went to him and as the sun began to peek through the leaves, it was clear that Gatlin was no longer immune to the sunlight. Whatever spell Pilar had cast all those years ago was long gone.

“What can I do?” Dakota asked. His eyes were rimmed with empathy as he laid a hand on Gatlin's shoulder. “After what you did for me. How can I repay you?”

“Let's call it even,” Gatlin bit out. “No one owes me anything.”

A look of understanding passed between the two men and Trixie knew that there had to be more to Gatlin's story. Now that Dakota had read his blood memories, he seemed to have sympathy for him.