Good, the Bad, and the Vampire (5 page)

For the first time since turning vamp, Dakota was swamped by lust. The kind that twisted his gut in knots and made his dick twitch. There ain't nothin' that makes a man feel more alive than white-hot desire. He hadn't been with a woman since being turned. Didn't seem right to get involved with someone when it had nowhere to go. Besides, before finding Trixie, the need for sex had paled in comparison to the desire for blood. Right this second, he'd give up live feeds for the rest of his existence for just one taste of
her
.

“What did I tell you about putting your hands on me?” Her voice was low and her meaning clear when she lifted her lip and revealed her fangs. “Let me go.”

Lord have mercy, he loved a woman with moxie. And this one had bushels of it.

“Apologies.” Dakota released her abruptly and took a step back, sticking his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Next time, I'll let you bump your head.”

“Great.” Trixie squared her shoulders and gestured for him to move. “I've been walking around all on my own for the better part of four decades. I think I can handle it.”

“My mistake.”

Dakota was blocking the door back into the club, but he stayed right where he was. His head might be fogged by lust, but he'd be damned if he was gonna let her leave without answering his question.

Trixie folded her arms over her bosom. “You said you had a question,” she said, sighing. “What is it?”

“The birthday party.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, a look of confusion washing over her. “What about it?”

“Why weren't you all full of sunshine and rainbows like everybody else?”

“What are you talking about?” She cracked her knuckles before settling her hands on her hips. “Is that why you're keeping me out here in this smelly alley? To find out why I wasn't wearing a party hat? Which by the way, you weren't either.”

“The only hat I'll put on my head is a Stetson.” He took one step toward her. “And we aren't talkin' about me, we're talkin' about you. See, my gut tells me that there was somethin' about that party, about that little girl, that set you off and sent you runnin' back to the woods.”

“You're crazy,” she said through a weak laugh. Tilting her head, she met his challenging stare. She held her ground as he advanced. “I think you're starting to see things, cowboy.”

“Oh, I see things, alright,” he murmured. “I see the way you are around Emily.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper and he stopped, his body mere inches from hers. “Even if no one else does.”

“What are you talking about? I love that little girl,” she whispered shakily. “She's part of my family. The only family that I've ever really had.”

“Exactly and all the more reason for you to be giddy as all get-out for that sweet little baby's birthday. But you weren't. And that got me thinkin' about your secret visits out to that cabin in the woods. Why would you leave a
family
birthday party to go see some
human
woman?”

Dakota intentionally invaded Trixie's space but refrained from touching her, even though it was the one desire that burned brightest.

He lowered his voice to a whisper and searched her eyes for answers. “Who is Chelsea? Who is she to you?”

Trixie's eyes glimmered in the dim light of the alley and her full lower lip quivered. For a split second, Dakota thought she was going to cry—or maybe haul off and deck him—but she did neither. Instead she shook her head, then slipped around him in a blur and yanked open the door to the club.

Dakota loved a challenge. Hell, the chase was the best part.

Matching her speed, he spun around and whisked to the doorway. He braced his hands along the door frame on either side of Trixie, bringing his body to within an inch of hers. The two of them remained in a virtual standoff as the music from the club echoed down the hallway.

“Funny,” he said with a grin. “You don't strike me as the kind of gal to tuck tail and run from a simple question.”

“I'm not running. It's time to open the club and your question isn't simple. It's nosy.” She leaned closer, pressing her breasts lightly against him. Then she bared her fangs in a gesture that may have been meant as a threat but to him was seductive as all get-out. Trixie's gold-flecked eyes flashed defiantly, a slow smile spreading across her beautiful face. “And like I said before, my secrets are my own. Chelsea is someone I care about. If you care about me, or at least not pissing me off, then you'll stay away from her. Let it go, Dakota.”

Before he could respond, she whisked down the hallway to the main floor of the club and went to the large double doors to open the place for the night.

As the humans spilled in and started spreading out onto the dance floor, Dakota leaned against the wall in the dimly lit hallway and kept his steady gaze on Trixie. The vulnerable woman—the one he saw peek out briefly from behind the confident, cocky spitfire facade—was gone. Tough as nails once again, she was slinging drinks and pretending he wasn't there. But she couldn't ignore him forever, not any more than he could ignore her—
or
the secret she was hiding.

A mix of pebbles and dry dusty earth slid warm and rough beneath Trixie's bare feet. She was no longer in the massive king-size bed in her underground apartment beneath the club but standing in the middle of a grassy field. She wore the black boy shorts and tank top she had put on before she went to bed well before dawn. The last thing she remembered was lying in her bed, alone, and staring at the black-tiled ceiling with thoughts of Dakota swimming through her head.

Where the hell am I?

Her voice sounded unbearably loud in this beautiful place that was foreign and familiar at the same time. The stone-cold silence of a vampire's sleep, the leaden shroud of utter darkness, was absent for the first time in over two decades.

Holy crap! I'm dreaming…

Gone were the bright lights of New York City and the cavalcade of sounds from the swarms of humans living there. Instead, she was surrounded by an exquisite sense of peace. It was the kind of quiet that existed only the wildest natural places on earth. Crickets and other creatures of the night scurried beneath the brush, but one noise was lacking. There were no human heartbeats filling the night air. For the first time in decades, Trixie was truly alone.

She tilted her face toward an inky black sky blanketed by an array of luminous stars. Her grin widened. It had been years since she'd seen a night like this one. In Manhattan, she would get a glimpse of a few stars here and there, although most of them were blotted out by the artificial glow of the city's towering buildings.

But not tonight. Not here.

She knew the mountain range in the distance, past the acres of wild land, even though she hadn't laid eyes on it since she was a child. She'd been here during one of the only pleasant times during her childhood. Of all the foster families she'd lived with over the years, the Langstons had been the kindest. The year and a half that Trixie lived with them was the happiest time of her human life. If Mr. Langston hadn't died, perhaps she could have stayed there. How different would her life have been?

The dream landscape looked exactly like the isolated area in Texas where the Langstons had gone camping. It was here that she'd found her tiny treasure.

That gold disk had been her most prized possession. The unusual symbol engraved on one side looked like wings, and there was nothing but wild swirls on the other. Until Chelsea came along, Trixie had never considered letting it go. Olivia had gotten so pissed when Trixie snuck into Chelsea's bedroom and left it on the girl's pillow. Trixie had glamoured Chelsea after the visit, erasing all memory of the encounter, but that hadn't mattered. It was totally worth it.

That girl was the only one worthy of such a gift.

Trixie laughed and spun in a circle. Was she dreaming of this place because of Chelsea? Perhaps her overwhelming desire to protect her had Trixie walking in the dreamscape again.

Well, I'll be damned.
Dakota's deep voice filled the air, playful and arrogant
.
The smile faded from her lips when his Texas drawl slid through the night.

There it was. The real reason she'd begun to dream again after all this time.

Aren't you the prettiest vision I've had in a long, long while?

Trixie's entire body stilled.

Vampires stopped dreaming within a decade of being turned. It was the last piece of their human life that they relinquished. There was only one reason that a vampire would walk in the dreamscape again. A bloodmate.

No freaking way
, Trixie whispered in a shaky voice she hardly recognized
. This is not happening.

Panic shimmied through her as her eyes fluttered closed. Damn it. She knew it. Deep down she'd known it the minute she'd set eyes on him two years ago, but in typical Trixie fashion, she'd ignored it. She'd done everything but stick her fingers in her ears to pretend not to hear what the universe was telling her.

But apparently fate, much like Dakota, would not and could not be dismissed.

Trixie dropped her arms to her sides and slowly turned around to face the one vampire she would never be able to escape. Not now. Not even in her sleep.

She should give him a piece of her mind, tell him that bloodmate or not, she had no interest in hooking up with anyone permanently—especially him. If Dakota thought she was going to drop everything in her world and get with him because of some stupid legend about destiny, he had another thing coming.

But when her eyes met his, all coherent thoughts slipped from her head.

She had expected to find him standing there in his leather battle gear, all full of arrogance and ready for a fight.

Not even close. The man who stood before her was all cowboy from head to toe, and he sure as hell wore it well.

A pair of faded, worn Levi's covered his long legs, and a dark blue button-down work shirt was practically painted onto his broad-shouldered torso. It was unbuttoned almost halfway, revealing a white or used-to-be-white T-shirt underneath. Hands on his hips, scuffed cowboy boots on his feet, Dakota dipped his head and winked at her from beneath the rim of a brown Stetson.

Ma'am.
His cheeky grin broadened and his heated gaze drifted over her in one lazy stroke. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he'd touched her with more than a look
. What might you be doin' here on my ranch? And why are you wearin' so little? Not that I'm complainin'.

His ranch? What the hell was he talking about?

This is what I sleep in, and as usual, I sleep alone. I wasn't expecting anyone else to see how
little
I was wearing.
Trixie folded her arms over her breasts, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the lack of coverage her tank and boy shorts provided
. What are you talking about anyway? We're not on your ranch, Dakota. We're in the dreamscape, cowboy. Try to keep up.

Dreamscape?
His lips curved as he strode toward her with slow deliberate steps
. I don't know what a dreamscape is but if memory serves, this is a dream. And it's a damn fine one, if you don't mind me sayin' so.

He stopped about a foot away from her and surveyed the area. The smile faded from his eyes and his brow furrowed with confusion. Trixie studied him closely. He seemed unaware of what was really happening, and in that moment it dawned on her that while she knew the significance of sharing the dreamscape…Dakota did not.

Well, if he didn't know what was going on, she sure wasn't going to tell him. Maybe this was only a fluke after all.

Right.
She lifted one shoulder and tried to act totally nonchalant, like it wasn't a huge freaking deal that they were in the dreamscape together
. You're only having a dream that I happen to be in. No biggie.

Mmm-hmm.
He nodded and moved past her to the right, his expression serious
. But why now? I mean, why after all this time? I haven't had a dream for almost fifty years, and why the hell am I dreamin' about the ranch?
He smirked
. I know why I'd be dreamin' about you…but why
you
on
my
ranch?

Much to her dismay, her stomach flip-flopped from the suggestive tone in his voice. Right about now she was wishing like hell that she'd bothered to ask Maya or Sadie how to get out of the dreamscape once you got here.

On the other hand, since she didn't know how to leave, she might as well get as much information from Dakota as she could.

Olivia had always told her that knowledge was power.

What ranch are you referring to, exactly? All I see are wide-open spaces.
Trixie turned around, followed Dakota's gaze, and her stomach dropped
.
The empty wilderness was gone. Sitting in the distance, the mountains looming behind it, was the unmistakable silhouette of a house
. Where the hell did that come from?

What?
His hands settled on his hips again and he glanced at her over his shoulder
. The house? I told you. We're on my ranch. My human family's ranch, that is, and that's the house I grew up in. You know, I need to go back for a visit. It's been too long… Actually, this night is exactly like the night I was turned vamp.
He pointed to the left of the house and a low whistle slipped from his lips
. Hell, it is the night I was turned. Look over there. You see those lights, the ones flashing bright over the mountains?

Before Trixie could get out of the way, Dakota wrapped one arm around her and turned her so she could see what he was talking about. He leaned down, his face precariously close to hers, the scruff of his unshaven jaw achingly near. She had the craziest urge to touch him, to cradle his cheek with her hand and nuzzle her lips along the line of his throat. The scent of sandalwood and leather made her dizzy, the warmth of his body curling against hers in a wicked invitation
.

Those are searchlights from the county fair. I'll never forget it… That night they were swinging through the sky.
His voice rumbled in his chest as he rose to his full height and draped his arm casually over her shoulder before pulling her tighter against him
. I remember watching them slice through the night like swords while I died. Well…almost died, anyway. My maker found me lyin' out here, bleedin' and all torn up from what that animal did to me.
Anger edged his words and his muscles tensed against her as he spoke
. The last things I saw as a human were those damn lights in the sky.

B-but this wasn't here a second ago.
Trixie's voice wavered and she tried not to notice how perfect the weight of his arm around her felt. She cleared her throat and nodded toward the house
. I don't get it. When I got here it was empty. There wasn't any house or ranch or lights or anything. The mountains were here but not that house. What the hell is going on?

Trixie snapped her mouth shut. She cracked her knuckles and sensed Dakota's energy humming around her. His body stilled and she didn't have to look at him to know he was staring down at her. She'd said too much. Shit.

What do you mean, when you got here?
He shifted his tall frame so that he was facing her. She could still feel his warmth against her arm. Awareness hummed between them and his voice dropped low
. I thought this was my dream, angel. And if it is, then how you could get here before me?

Trixie shook her head, not really hearing him. Her thoughts were racing, trying to remember every scrap of information the other girls had told her. The dreams were shared by bloodmates, that much she knew. But there was more to it. What was it? Her world was changing at a breakneck pace and she was having a hell of a time keeping up. Think, damn it. But she couldn't. Staring into those gorgeous blue eyes, one thought rose above the rest.

Dakota was her bloodmate.

Sadie, Olivia, and Maya.
As the pieces came together, the words fell from Trixie's lips in a rush
. They didn't just have dreams, okay? They shared dreamscapes that were actually memories—memories of the nights that they were turned.
Fear settled in her chest. Slipping out of Dakota's embrace, Trixie scanned the suddenly ominous wilderness and backed away
. What attacked you that night, Dakota?

What the hell are—
Dakota stopped speaking and held up one hand to silence her as well. His jaw set and those steely silver-blue eyes of his narrowed, like an animal picking up the scent of its prey. The sentry was back. Every fiber of the man was coiled tight with anticipation, the tension pulsing off him in thick waves.

She wanted to ask him what was happening but no words would come. Fear, a long-forgotten feeling, fired through her with brutal and unforgiving force, but the man in front of her was anything but afraid. Fury. Rage. Unbridled hatred simmered beneath the surface, and for the first time since she'd met him, Trixie became acutely aware of exactly how deadly Dakota could be. She'd heard about his razor-sharp focus in battle but this was the first time she was seeing it for herself.

He remained motionless in the moonlit night, all sharp edges and hard lines. Dakota looked like a rubber band that had been almost stretched to the limit. The air around them stilled and thickened, and it became obvious that she and Dakota were no longer alone.

If Trixie had any breath in her lungs, she'd be holding it.

A rock skittered along the ground, shattering the silence and with it, Dakota's stone-cold posture as he whispered…
Run
.

Trixie opened her mouth to respond and ask just where the hell she should run to, when the pungent odor of rotting flowers filled the air. It was far stronger than before but there was no mistake. It was the same unpleasant scent she'd picked up at Chelsea's house that night. Trixie's stomach churned and an overwhelming sensation of nausea swamped her. A powerful cramp racked her gut and she doubled over in agony. She fell to her knees. She could hear Dakota shouting her name through the fog of pain, but he sounded impossibly far away.

An ungodly shriek filled the night. A shadowy, hulking figure swept in, tackling Dakota to the ground.

The darkness closed in.

Dakota catapulted out of bed with a shout and landed in a crouching position across the room by the bedroom door. His fingers pressed into soft carpet and he froze in place while regaining his bearings. He was awake and back in his apartment. There was no gargoyle, and Trixie was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell was that about?” Dakota whispered.