Vampire Instinct (40 page)

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Authors: Joey W Hill

Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural

BOOK: Vampire Instinct
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He needed to help Elisa understand that, and a good place to start was proving she wasn’t alone. A shadow crossed his mind, recalling the words he’d spat at her. He’d make that up to her, too, and not with more words. She’d be in bed at least a week. That would give him time to bring her an apology she could believe. He wouldn’t require anything of her until then, letting Kohana and Chumani take care of her while he observed a self-imposed exile, no matter how much his body and other more complicated parts of him protested.
As the sky turned to rose, his skin was practically steaming and his breath was tight in his chest, warning him it was well past time to be underground. Heading for the Jeep, he sent a message to Kohana, telling him the variety of things he wanted.
There was no time to waste.
24
 
D
ESPITE his resolve, it took an extreme act of will to leave her care to Kohana and Chumani for the next week, as well as to stay out of her head. It wasn’t until Chumani reported she’d healed enough to get back into a restricted routine, punctuated by a lot of bed rest, that he was ready to meet with her. Though it was hard not to go to her immediately, he okayed Elisa taking on a
very
limited routine and told Chumani to have the Irish maid come to his office at midnight. They had matters to discuss, now that she was back on her feet.
That would give him time for two more phone calls. He’d anticipated one of them not going well, a call to a meat supplier who was sending substandard fare, but it still left him in a foul temper when Kohana appeared at the study door at nine o’clock. Of course, as if they were mirroring each other, the Indian had a look on his face as if he’d swallowed sour milk. He stood there, saying nothing, just glaring at Mal.
“For fuck’s sake, what is it?” Mal said at last. He kept his attention on the legal pad in front of him, the details he was scribbling out. Travel arrangements, logistics . . . gods, logistics. Clothes to order . . .
Kohana grunted, unaffected by the threatening tone. “Isn’t it obvious to everyone she’s like those young vampires’ mama?”
Mal looked up, eyed him. “What are you going on about?”
“A spirit sometimes is what it is, from the time it’s born. That girl was born to be a mother. She takes care of everyone. You ever watch her when the staff eats dinner? Do I need a napkin? Would Chumani like to eat her pudding with a fork instead of a spoon? Jumping up to get everyone a second helping. Clearing the dishes before any of us can lift a finger.”
“She’s been a servant since she could walk.”
Kohana gave him a disparaging look. “I’ve met plenty of folk born into serving class who are lazy and resentful of it. She likes taking care of people. And I’ve learned enough about your kind that I suspect there’s a deeper element to it, one that’s snagged you pretty good, too.”
It was rare—perhaps never—that Kohana had ever referred to him as belonging more to the vampire species than his native race. It meant he was truly pissed. Mal’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, she’s got a submissive personality. She was chosen and groomed for that by Danny’s mother. What
is
your point?”
Kohana took a determined hop forward. He’d left his crutch in the hall, his powerful thigh muscles fully capable of balancing him. “You’ve been threatening to kill what she considers her children since she came. You think any mother wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to stay with them? Protect them as best she’s able? You put her on that plane, take her away from her children, you’ll destroy her. You know any mother who’d survive losing all six of her children in one go?”
If possible, Mal was even more confused by the direction of the conversation. “Why are you telling me what I already know, and why the hell do you think I’m putting her on a plane?”
“Because she said so. That you hadn’t come to see her since you yelled after her, right after it happened—”
“I had you take flowers to her room from me, damn it.”
“—but that you were going to have some big discussion with her later tonight. She was sure it was because you’re sending her home.”
“I’m so glad you all believe her version of things before you even talk to me.”
Kohana scowled. “I’m here now. The way she talked, it was as if you’d already talked to her. You’re in her mind; I assumed you’d told her as much.”
“No. I haven’t been in her mind at all this week. I’ve found out how she’s doing through you two.” Which had been damnably hard, but from Kohana’s expression, Mal doubted he’d be getting a pat on his back for his forbearance.
He sighed. “Where is she?”
“With the fledglings. She’s manacled herself to Jeremiah’s cell with a padlock. Swallowed the key. Right in front of me, too, before I could stop her.”
Mal blinked, rose from his chair. Something in his face may have even given Kohana pause, because the Indian looked like he might hop backward in reflex, though in the end he held his ground. Mal spoke slowly, enunciating each word with deliberate and deceptive calm. “You’re telling me you’ve been standing here yakking, when she’s barely recovered and yet she’s gone off property? Chained herself to the cell of a fledgling given to erratic spurts of bloodlust, where he could reach right through the bars and rip her head off?”
Kohana gave him a disgusted look. “I left three men there, all with crossbows trained on him in case that happens.”
“Oh, well, good, then. It will work out fine if they kill him, the one she loves the most.” Mal came around the desk swiftly, headed for the French doors. “Remind me to have you buried up to your neck in the leopards’ favorite hunting ground. They can use your head for their personal ball of string.”
“I’ll mark it down for your evening schedule. Sir.”
Mal snarled something unintelligible and was gone. Kohana cursed himself. Truth, he’d overlooked her reaction if Jeremiah was harmed, but since he’d known what Mal was working on, he’d been knocked off balance, hearing Elisa’s absolute certainty that she was being sent away. He’d thought Mal had changed course, and it had ticked him off something fierce.
“Men are total idiots.” Chumani snorted, steam practically coming out of her nostrils as he came back into the kitchen. With Elisa out of commission, she’d rearranged her shifts and was helping Kohana prepare dinner, chopping carrots so ferociously Kohana was thinking he should get the knife from her. She stopped, waved it at him. “Mal thinks Elisa will respond better to a grand gesture, days after he was so mean to her, rather than giving her a simple apology right away. And we can’t say anything. Why is it men think actions are better than words?”
A lock of hair had come loose and curled at her brow, drawing more attention to the line of her slim neck, the pout of her full lips and those long, long lashes. She was wearing a V-neck T-shirt, one that showed the hint of cleavage, the cotton molded to firm breasts. He hadn’t intended to let his gaze wander that way, but Chumani in a high dudgeon was hard for any man to resist. And a much younger man wouldn’t, right?
The hell with that.
She noted the direction of his gaze a bare second before Kohana reached out, clasped her arm in one large hand and pulled her into him, hard enough she collided against his chest, the knife still gripped in her hand. He didn’t care about that. Cupping her face, he held her close with the other, sliding his arm around her waist to hold her fast as he kissed her, hard and long . . . deep. Her body stiffened, then eased, then fully melded into his, so close and hot that his need ran away from him and he dropped a hand to her waist and then farther, molding the hip and the taut, round buttock, pressing her against an erection large and aching enough to compete with a youth half his age, damn it all.
The knife dropped to the floor and her hands slid up under his arms, fingers digging into his shirt. When he finally stopped, they were both breathing hard, and he knew she was just as aroused as he was, a pure shot of adrenaline. His voice was thick when he spoke.
“Maybe because we’re better at action.”
She stared up at him. Her eyes were a little wild and astonishingly vulnerable. It made him gentle his hold on her neck, pass his thumb over her nape. “I didn’t just do that for the hell of it, you know.”
She swallowed. “I sure hope not. Because if you did, I will kick your ass, old man.” Then she rose on her toes and kissed him back, fitting every curve of her body to his, as if they were two saplings seeded together, trunks and roots inextricably and irrevocably intertwined.
For so long, he’d felt like an unopened can of soda around her, all shook up with nowhere for all that violent pressure to go. It wasn’t as good as he’d imagined—it was leaps and bounds better, because it was raw and unleashed, and quiet and constant as a river at once. He didn’t need a shaman’s blood to know this was as meant to be as anything in nature.
He was still worried about Elisa, but somehow, he knew it would be all right. Because Mal was like that unopened soda as well, and the little miss had just given it a good kick. Her vampire had blood in his eye, and the top was likely to explode right off. As he pulled Chumani closer, showing her just how steady a one-legged man could be, he thought that might not be a bad thing at all.
 
Women.
Yes, maybe he had screwed up, not communicating with her, but she knew better than this. As Kohana had pointed out, she’d been a servant all her life. She knew there were lines you didn’t cross.
Unless she didn’t think she had anything left to lose.
If you put her on that plane, you might as well kill her.
Still, he wasn’t in a mood to coddle. He’d been dealing with all manner of bullshit this week, in order to give her . . . Yeah, she didn’t know about it, but damn it, she needed to learn to trust him. He embraced the irrational thought, responding to the kick of his heated blood that said it was time to set her straight.
When he pulled up in the Jeep and switched it off, he saw things were as Kohana described them, and that didn’t help settle him. It was too soon after a much worse scenario. Though they’d rinsed down the area thoroughly, he still smelled traces of the blood that had been shed here.
That, as well as this situation, wouldn’t be a calming environment for any of the fledglings, particularly the one to whom she’d positioned herself far too closely. Having three crossbows on him wouldn’t help.
She was trying to explain the same thing to the staff. He’d heard her through her mind on the way here. “He’s not going to hurt me, but you’re scaring him. Please stop; just put them down. You don’t even have to let them go, but you can lower them.”
You’d be a lot more effective at giving orders if you were better at taking them.
He sent her that thought just as his Jeep crested the hill. Everything in her tensed up. She hadn’t known what else to do. She’d thought he wouldn’t listen otherwise.
It pissed him off further. As he got out of the Jeep and strode toward the enclosure, Chayton was outside of it. When he stepped forward, his face set in that same disapproving mask Kohana had shown him, Mal peeled back his lips and snarled. He used enough fang to send Chayton skittering back in shock and self-preservation. Sometimes his employees needed to remember that he was no more a tame pet than the other kind they handled on the island.
As he moved into the communal enclosure, crossed the space between them, he spoke. “Would you like to tell me what the hell you’re thinking?”
Elisa blinked, rising to her feet, the manacle clanking against Jeremiah’s cell door. She was still tired enough from her ordeal that she hadn’t been able to remain standing as she’d hoped, proud and defiant throughout. Jeremiah squatted on the other side of the bars, catty-corner. While he didn’t meet Mal’s gaze, he tracked his movements through sidelong glances.
“You know what I’m thinking.” She wasn’t being impudent, but her voice held an edge.
“Yes. Which is why I asked, because this required no thinking at all.”
“I’m doing the only thing I could to keep you from sending me home.”
“If that’s your goal, defying me is the last thing you should be doing. And are you thinking about what’s best for them, or for you?”
That made her stiffen. “I help—”
“How does it help them to see you destroyed bit by bit by their loss of control, Elisa? How does it help them learn to be independent in a world of vampires by teaching them to be dependent on a
human
? If I tell you you’re getting on that plane, you’re going. That’s the way it works. No argument or discussion.”

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