Chapter 7

Lynda bit the hand covering her mouth. Her heel slammed against a hard shin, and a sharp pain radiated through her foot. She jerked, trying to get away from her captor. Biting the man's palm, she wrestled partially free.

“Jesus! Are you a part vampire or something?” Pierre let go of her. “I’m bleeding. Shit!”

She spun around, wiping her mouth and coughing. Traces of his vamp blood, both spicy and tart, coated her tongue. It was too late to spit, most of the blood had already slid down her throat when she fought him. It shouldn’t harm her unless she continued to drink from him and had three blood exchanges which could turn her into a vampire too. But she didn't want to get into the habit of tasting vamp blood or any other type for that matter. Some people became addicts and sold their blood to get a hit.

“How about you don't snatch people in the dark without warning first?” She squared her shoulders. “And where's Mihnea?”

Pierre laughed, and his footsteps sounded a few feet from her.

The light flicked on, making her blink in the sudden brightness.

He frowned down at his palm. “Damn girl, how sharp are your teeth?”

“Sorry.” She leaned forward to check his injury, but he clenched his hand. “Listen, I'm sorry. I thought you were one of the others.”

“Yeah, for the record they wouldn't try and stop you from screaming, they'd just bite and kill you.” He paused and inhaled, his nostrils flaring. “So Mihnea has taken advantage and gotten what he wants.”

She crossed her arms. Did he know about her make-out session with the vampire? Now that she wasn't around Mihnea, she chalked up their little make-out session to them both escaping the Russians and the heat of the moment. It wouldn't happen again. But even as she thought the words, the lie pierced her chest.

“What are you talking about?”

“I can smell him on you.”

Her face burned. “Well, I barely escaped the restaurant an—”

“Hey, I'm not condemning you,” he held up his hands, “just envious that I wasn't with you to help...settle your nerves.” He waggled his eyebrows.

That vision of both vamps kissing and touching her had moisture pooling between her legs. Best if she changed the subject.

She tore her gaze from Pierre to examine where they were.

It was a sparse room with a long entrance table cluttered with mail and newspapers. Three doors stood at the opposite end. In the corner was a small kitchen and two suede couches a few steps away from her.

“Is this your place?”

He nodded. “It's all of ours. A safe house. One of many across the world, though I come here the most because my restaurant is so close.”

“Ours? Yours and Mihnea’s?” she asked.

“And Andrei’s. Brothers forever by blood and our father's vampire curse.”

She paused. “You're the youngest brother, then.”

“How'd you guess?” He winked. “My charm, exceptional manners, and the fact that I’m better-looking than the other two?”

“No, your easy-going nature...well, when you're not busy with your restaurant or fighting rogue vampires.” At her words, his brow pinched. “I'm sorry for your staff.”

She touched his arm, and he swallowed hard, nodding.

“Bastards killed four of my servers, plus my sous chef, and severely injured Danny, one of my busboys. He was always at work early for his shift and stayed late. Now he's paying for it by lying in a hospital bed with bags of blood pumping into him.” He raked a hand through his hair making his bangs stand straight up in one spot. “Doctors don't know if he'll make it, even with me donating some of my blood.”

“Then what are you doing here?” She waved a hand toward Pierre. “Go be with him.”

“I've done all I can do, and hospitals make me nervous.” He wiped away a bloody tear. “Thanks though.” His voice was hoarse.

“If there's anything I can do, please tell me.”

He shrugged. “A hug will do for now.”

“Gladly.” She pulled him into an embrace.

Before she took a breath, Pierre grabbed her ass.

“What the hell?” She shoved him back.

He shrugged. “Sorry, worth a try.”

“Hands to yourself, unless I say.”

“Next time, I get to whisk you away while Mihnea and Andrei do the dirty work.” He grinned. “I thought you liked the strong, silent, take-don’t-ask type since you got all hot with Mihnea.”

God, am I never going to live that down? “No, I like you the way you are in all your quirkiness. Mihnea was a mistake...one that won't happen again.” At least it better not since the next time he kissed her, she wouldn't be able to stop.

“What about Andrei? Is he okay?” She continued when he didn’t say anything. And where had Mihnea disappeared to? Was he behind one of the doors and repulsed by what they'd done? Some vamps hated humans and only thought of them as food. Did Mihnea feel the same and they'd both been caught up in the moment?

“Andrei is fine. He’s at the hospital for me checking on everyone.”

She heaved a sigh, and a weight she didn't realize was there lifted off her chest. “Thank goodness.”

“And since I can read between the lines, Mihnea is fine as well.”

“Oh?” She tried to make her voice as nonchalant as possible.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “he’s out running security checks. We’ve got wards set up by witches for us that he wanted to ensure were still working. Then he said he was going to go help Andrei. My bet is he had to leave 'cause you were just too tasty.”

“No one’s drinking my blood.”

“There are other types of tasty.” He waggled his eyebrows and she relaxed a bit.

Was Mihnea that attracted to her? She’d never made love to a vampire before and that thought made her sex tighten and she crossed her legs to ease the tension.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?” He asked strolling to the kitchen. “We don't have human guests that often, but I do have some supplies for when I want to experiment with a new dish.”

“Water is fine.” She sat on the couch, her gaze drifting to the three closed doors.

Pierre came back with a plastic cartoon character glass filled with ice water.

“You don’t have any adult glasses?”

He tapped the cup with his knuckles. “Plastic doesn't shatter or cut our guests. Andrei had to knock Mihnea unconscious when one of his girlfriends cut her knee with a broken piece of glass they were cleaning up.”

Lynda's stomach rolled, and her hand shook. Some vamps never were able to control their bloodlust and had to go in weekly for a type of sobriety test. Junkies would have way too much blood in their system. Had Mihnea been close to biting her when he kissed her neck in the hallway?

“Easy.” Pierre placed his hand over hers. “That was a long time ago. All of us have loved, lost, and carry the scars. Yet we don't ever give up the hope of finding real, lasting love. The kind of passion that continues beyond a lifetime.”

“Like your father, Dracula, and his first wife?” She whispered. Andrei had said her name had been erased from history and only those alive at the time knew it.

“Yes. Father is obsessed with her even to this day. Of course, Mihnea being first born and from that union, he is given everything he wishes.” He took his hand from hers, and she missed his touch. It comforted her.

She took a sip of water. “What about you?”

“Me?” He raised his eyebrows. “My father liked my mother...tolerated her often. I missed all the fuss though, being the youngest. My blood brother died when I was small, and Andrei was adopted into our trinity—our matching tattoo—three princes, three countries, three triangles. He was always the buffer between Mihnea and me. It took a while for my older brother, so set in his ways, to appreciate me.”

“Did he ridicule you?” Or worse?

“No.” Pierre leaned back on the couch, tracing a pattern in the cream-colored suede. “Nothing like that. He just couldn't understand why I didn't want to fight the Turks like he and father and even Andrei. He thought that changing me into a vampire would fix that.”

She placed her hand on his knee. “And it didn't, did it?”

“Some.” He laced his fingers over hers. “I fight for mine. My family, my friends, my employees, those I care about.”

“I think I'd do the same in your position.” She nodded. She’d lost both of her parents but she’d do anything to have them back in her life again.

Being an orphan was a lonely place to be. She hadn’t been with her father when he died, and she’d always regretted that she’d never been able to tell him goodbye. His death had been a tragic loss for both her mother and Lynda, one that neither had ever really got over, despite her mother’s many marriages. “Are you okay, Lynda?” Pierre asked.

She shivered. “Yeah. So, isn't Pierre a French name? And your accent...I don't hear much Romanian in it.”

“That's a long story, let me hit the highlights.” He stared off toward the kitchen.

There were no windows in the living room or the kitchen. She doubted there were any windows anywhere in their safe house. But bare walls were silly. She would buy them several nice pictures with metal frames, of course. Stop it, Lynda, you're not staying here.

Pierre cleared his throat. “After I was turned, I became so bloodthirsty that even Father chained me up in the basement.”

Before she could say anything, he held up a hand.

“I already know what you're going to say. It took me centuries to get over it. When Andrei released me without Father's permission, he was whipped, scourged, and sold into slavery. Even though he knew the cost, he made me promise not to come back for him.”

Pierre clenched his fists. “At the time, I'd have agreed to anything to get out of that place. Even sell my brothers’ souls. I moved to France, fell in love several times. I adopted the name Pierre and learned that I had a talent for cooking.

“I came to the States five years ago at both my brothers’ request.” He rubbed his cheek. “I started my restaurant and helped Andrei with his far-fetched project.”

“So, you don't think it'll work? That a human woman can be found to mate with one of you to make a half-vampire?” She took another sip of water and crossed her legs underneath her to get more comfortable.

He shrugged. “Can't say, but I've had more lovers than probably both my brothers combined, and I've never gotten anyone pregnant.”

“Have Mihnea or Andrei?”

“Not that I know of. But somehow the worst of the Russian clans figured it out whether by magic or luck or whatever. I do know they have the upper hand and are willing to wipe us out and take over more and more territory.” He looked at her with worry pinching his brow. “Lynda, if they do, the world will turn into their blood slaves. No one will be safe.”