Luther's Return (Scanguards Vampires Book 10) (2 page)

Luther had been able to look away from the rays, but his nape and the back of his head had sustained significant damage—nothing some human blood and a good day’s sleep couldn’t fix.

“And I’m not gonna be the one writing up the incident report,” Norris insisted. “I’m due for my vacation.”

McKay who held a UV gun to the head of the V-CON—whose hands were now tied with silver shackles—grunted in displeasure. “You sure know how to pick the right time, leaving the rest of us to deal with this newbie.” McKay hit the butt of his gun against the prisoner’s temple. “Who doesn’t fucking know what’s good for him.”

“Let’s go, West,” Dobbs ordered. “Unless you like it here so much you wanna stay longer.”

In spite of the pain that radiated through his head and traveled down his spine, Luther jumped up, not wanting to show the ungrateful guards that he was hurting. He gave a nod of acknowledgment to his jailor, and continued his walk out of the hellhole that had been his home for twenty lonely years.

2

“My zipper is stuck!”

Katie Montgomery whirled around in the locker room-turned-dressing room-for-the-night. One side of it was reserved for the female members of the cast. Seven-foot-high partition walls separated the area from the section where the male actors got changed into their costumes.

The drama class at the University of San Francisco, a private school, was putting on
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
before the Christmas holidays. And as the drama teacher, Katie was responsible for the entire production, including making sure everybody looked the part and knew their lines. In addition she was also playing one of the parts herself, since unfortunately a female student had dropped out early in the semester and Katie couldn’t find anybody else for the demanding role.

The hustle and bustle, the chatter, the excitement among the amateur actors reminded her of the years she’d spent on film and television sets in Hollywood. Her name hadn’t been Katie then. Everybody in Hollywood knew her as Kimberly Fairfax, the blonde bombshell. Well, she wasn’t blonde anymore either—in fact, she’d never really been blonde. Her natural hair color was a rich dark brown, just like her brothers’, Haven and Wesley.

She rushed to Cindy, the twenty-year-old girl who’d wailed about her zipper. “I’ve got it.” She stepped behind her and looked at the back of the pastel-blue-and-green fairy costume. “Back in the sixteenth century they had buttons and bows,” Katie mumbled to herself. She pulled on the zipper, but it was tight. “Have you gained weight?”

Cindy looked over her shoulder and shrugged sheepishly. “I swear I only have one pastry in the mornings.”

Katie tilted her head to the side, but said nothing.

“Okay, and one in the afternoon. But it’s really not my fault. I’m just always hungry. And I’m still growing. Besides, we can’t all have the same perfect figure as you. I don’t know how you do it. You still look like you’re in your twenties, and I know for a fact that your first big movie was released when I was born.”

Smiling, Katie shook her head. “Just hold your breath for a moment.” She pulled the zipper up and patted the girl on the shoulder. “It’s all good.”

Before her student could continue commenting on Katie’s appearance, Katie turned away and looked around to see if she was needed anywhere else. She always refrained from commenting when people remarked on her looks and age.

She was forty-two, but for a witch, age meant nothing. While she wasn’t quite as ageless as her vampire brother, Haven, she and her witch brother Wesley aged so slowly they could easily pass for twenty-somethings. It was one of the reasons Katie had left Hollywood and the movie business behind. Too many people had started asking questions, wondering what plastic surgeon she was using to continue looking so young. She was afraid that one day they would figure out that she wasn’t human, but a preternatural creature.

Despite her witch genes, she had no powers to speak of. A ritual her mother had performed shortly after her birth had robbed her and her brothers of their witch powers. When her brother Haven had sacrificed his human life twenty years ago to save the world from an evil witch, and become a vampire, the Power of Three she and her brothers were supposed to possess had been destroyed for good.

But Wesley, her eight-years-older brother, had wanted his powers back. And he’d worked for it. Studied the craft. Made mistakes. Practiced more. Now, twenty years later, he was an accomplished witch. He used his powers for good instead of evil. And for Scanguards, the vampire-run security company they all owed so much to.

At least half of them were here tonight. They’d all come to watch Isabelle, Samson and Delilah’s daughter, perform. Instinctively her gaze searched for the young hybrid. As the daughter of a vampire and his blood-bonded human mate, Isabelle was an extraordinary creature. She combined the advantages of both species within herself: she had the strength and speed of a vampire without the drawback of being burned by sunlight. And once she turned twenty-one, she would stop aging, just like her vampire father had stopped aging when he was turned over two centuries earlier.

Isabelle wore a seventeenth-century gown in a rich azure color and looked absolutely stunning. The long dark hair that normally cascaded down her shoulders, framing her lovely figure, was fashioned into a medieval hairdo. Already now, at age twenty, men were standing in line to gain her affections. Isabelle had inherited her mother’s beauty and her father’s strength. She was a force to be reckoned with. It showed when she and her two brothers, Grayson and Patrick, nineteen and seventeen respectively, were of different opinions. Sparks flew when the three got into an argument. All three of them wanted to lead. Only one would finally rule.

But tonight something was different about Isabelle. She didn’t look as confident as usual. She seemed rather nervous and looked uncomfortable. Was she having stage fright?

Katie glanced at the large wall clock. In thirty minutes the curtain would rise. This was not the time for anybody to get cold feet. She was walking toward Isabelle, when she heard somebody call her name.

“Katie? Got a minute?”

She pivoted and saw Blake pop his head in the door.

“You can’t come in here!” she chastised and rushed toward him.

He immediately retreated. When she stepped outside into the corridor, he was waiting for her.

“Apologies, but nobody heard me knock,” he said, grinning disarmingly.

A decade ago Katie would have rolled her eyes and accused him of using any excuse to ogle the beautiful young girls in the dressing room. Not tonight. Blake had changed in more ways than one.

He’d matured and grown into an utterly handsome man with short dark hair, the same blue eyes as his 4th great-grandmother Rose, and a toned body made of pure muscle. The family resemblance to Quinn and Rose, however, ended there. He looked older than his blond vampire forebears now. His ancestors had been turned into vampires in their twenties, while Blake had become a vampire at age thirty-two, twelve years earlier. Quinn had turned him at Blake’s insistence.

“What is it?” Katie asked, looking up at Blake who dwarfed her.

“I just wanted to go over security with you.”

“But we’ve already done that. I really don’t have the time. We only have—”

“It won’t even take a minute of your time, sweetheart,” he insisted, turning on his charm.

“Sweetheart?” She laughed. There was nothing amorous going on between her and the tall vampire—they both knew that. “You must be desperate.”

Blake chuckled, displaying his white teeth. “You know me too well.” He pulled a piece of paper from the inside of the trendy sports coat he’d paired with black slacks and sturdy boots. “Samson’s orders.”

Involuntarily she had to smile. Even dressed in elegant eveningwear, Blake was always ready for war.

“I have the feeling you enjoy being the head of Scanguards’ personal security detail far too much.”

He smirked and looked around the corridor, making sure none of the stagehands who were arranging final details could overhear them. “Providing ‘round the clock security for thirteen hybrid teenagers is no walk in the park. And don’t even get me started on the parents.”

Katie knew what he meant. Some parents could be overprotective of their offspring, and Samson was no exception when it came to his three children. Though he did have reason to be cautious. Scanguards had enemies.

“Driving you nuts, are they?”

Blake ran a hand through his hair. “You have no idea. And trust me, those kids have never been safer in their lives than since I took over their security twelve years ago.”

“Was that why you wanted to be turned? So the kids couldn’t run roughshod over you?”

Blake briefly glanced down the hall where a worker was carrying two chairs into the next room. “That, and the fact that I didn’t want to look older than my grandparents.”

His serious expression belied the light tone of his voice.

“Sorry I asked.”

Blake blinked and gave a sigh. “Katie, I don’t mean to—”

She lifted her hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself—”

“I love these people,” Blake interrupted, motioning to the wall. Behind it was the stage and beyond that the audience waiting for the performance to start. “I love the Scanguards family. They’re my family, and I don’t want to leave them. Had I remained human, one day I would have had to. I can’t do that.”

Katie put her hand on his forearm and squeezed.

He met her eyes. “And if you tell any of them about what I just said, I’m going to suck the life out of you,” he warned.

“Don’t wanna come across as a big softy, that it?”

“Because I’m not.”

“No, you’re not. And loving somebody doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong.”

“Well, let’s go over this.” Blake pointed to the piece of paper in his hand, clearly embarrassed. “I marked at which points in the play Isabelle is going to be on stage and when she’s supposed to be backstage with the other actors. Does that look right?”

Katie skimmed the list of scenes and nodded. “You know your Shakespeare.”

He shrugged. “Rose makes me read all that stuff.”

She grinned. “Sure she does.” The sound of the door opening behind her made her turn her head to see who was leaving the dressing room.

She saw Isabelle freeze as if caught.

“Oh, hey Blake,” Isabelle said quickly and a little too cheerfully. “Are you gonna watch?”

“Like a hawk.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “I meant the play.”

“So did I.” He pulled her into a quick hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head, before releasing her. Then his gaze bounced back and forth between Isabelle and Katie. “Oh my, if we stuck you two in the same clothes, I swear you could be confused for twins!”

Katie exchanged a look with Isabelle.

“Twins?” they said in unison.

Blake held up both hands. “Okay, sisters. But, boy, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two came from the same womb.”

“Okay, enough of that,” Katie said and made a shooing motion. “Don’t you have work to do? Because I sure do.”

Blake grinned and nodded to Isabelle. “Break a leg, okay?”

Isabelle smiled. “Thanks.”

“You, too, Katie. But then you’re an old pro,” he added and turned.

“Hey, who are you calling old?” Katie protested. “I’m still younger than you!”

Without turning back, Blake waved his hand at her and continued walking down the corridor, before marching through a door and disappearing from view.

“Men!”

A suffering sigh came from Isabelle. Instantly, Katie ran her eyes over her. “Something wrong, honey?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…”

“Stage fright?” Katie prompted. “Don’t worry, we all get it.”

“It’s not that. I’m ready for the play. I know all the lines. Not just mine. I know everybody’s.”

Katie brushed her hand over Isabelle’s hair, pride swelling in her chest. Samson’s daughter had talent. “Well, that’s why I made you understudy for all the major female roles. I’ve never seen anybody who could retain so many lines in such a short time.”

Isabelle smiled unexpectedly and a little of the gloom lifted off her face. “I’m so glad you did. That’s why, you know, I was wondering… I mean… Do you think…”

Katie felt her forehead furrow. Isabelle wasn’t normally somebody to be nervous or tongue-tied. “What’s bothering you?”

Isabelle twiddled the ribbons below her empire waist. “It’s Cameron.”

For a moment, Katie didn’t know who Isabelle was talking about. Then it dawned on her. “Cameron, who’s playing Lysander?”

Isabelle nodded and avoided eye contact when she continued talking. “Yes, who’s in love with Hermia.”

A soft smile tugged at Katie’s lips. “Who’s played by me.”

Isabelle lifted her head. “And in the end you get to kiss Lysander.”

“And Helena, played by you, gets to kiss Demetrius.”

Isabelle nodded, but didn’t comment further.

“I thought you wanted it that way. Isn’t that every girl’s dream, to be pursued by two men? Like in the play how Helena is pursued by both Lysander and Demetrius because of Puck’s love potion?”

“Yes, but Lysander’s love isn’t real. It’s just an illusion.”

“But it’s a play. It’s all an illusion.”

Just like Hollywood had been an illusion. A pretty one. One that had made her wealthy, not wanting for anything. But nothing had been real in Hollywood: in the end she hadn’t even been able to trust the people closest to her. Betrayal had nearly cost her her life. It was the real reason why she’d returned to San Francisco five years earlier: to return to her family, where she belonged, and to be safe again.

She’d managed to buy back the old Victorian house on Buena Vista Park that had once belonged to her family. And she’d made it vampire safe, so that whenever Haven and his mate Yvette visited, they wouldn’t have to worry about sunlight hurting them.

“I’d much rather be Hermia, because Lysander’s love for her is real,” Isabelle continued. “And you said yourself I know all the lines. I’m your understudy. You know I can do it.”