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Authors: Jeanne C. Stein
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cell. I want only to get into a hot shower and clean clothes. Enjoy a cup of my own coffee on my own deck.
It’s what I want.
What I find when I step into the living room scuttles those plans.
He’s sitting on my couch, feet up on the coffee table, looking for all the world like he belongs.
He’s even helped himself to coffee and is reading my paper.
Son of a bitch.
It’s Chael.
CHAPTER 10
T HE LAST TIME I SAW CHAEL, HEAD OF THE MIDDLE Eastern Vampire Tribe, it was exactly two months ago today. He was dressed in Savile Row then. Today it’s Rodeo Drive. He’s in dark slacks and a cream-colored polo shirt, leather loafers on stocking-less feet.
He looks up when I enter, radiates no concern that I’ve jumped into full vampire mode. He lays the paper down, rises slowly, hands outstretched placatingly. He is slight of stature, dark-skinned, with sharp features and hard eyes. When he stands, we are eye to eye.
He waits for me to speak first, hands still outstretched as if to show he has come unarmed.
We are vampire. We are never unarmed.
Teeth gritted, I open my thoughts. He speaks no English, but we can communicate the way of all vampires, telepathically. You have violated my privacy. How did you get in?
A shrug. It was not difficult. The glass door off your bedroom was unlocked.
Stupid of me. I often leave that slider open. Too high for a human to access but not a vampire.
Is an unlocked door considered an invitation to trespass in your country?
Chael lifts his palms in a gesture that admits he overstepped, but he offers no apology.
Why are you here?
Uninvited, he sits back down, picks up the newspaper and scans the front page. You have been busy. Interfering in mortal affairs again. One eyewitness says that you “flew” over a counter and across the floor to shoot a man armed with a rifle. They are calling it a miracle. I call it an inexcusable display from one who is bent on keeping our existence a secret.
So, you read English now?
A deprecating shrug. I had someone translate the story for me.
I’ll bet. Irritation pokes at me. I growl, The last time I checked, I didn’t answer to you. And what concern is this of yours? You are a long way from your home territory.
It is the concern of all vampire when their true nature has been exposed. What do you plan to do to rectify this violation?
I close down the conduit between us. What I plan to do is none of his business. I know faddish human nature. This will pass as soon as something more interesting comes along to capture the imagination of the public. A baseball team will reach the playoffs, a movie star will be arrested for consorting with a fifteen-year-old. Mortal attention span is short.
You have no plan, do you? Chael shakes his head. As the Chosen One, you are proving once again how immature and ill prepared you are to lead a superior race.
This again. My temper rises as the real reason for this visit suddenly strikes me. He is not here because of what happened yesterday at the supermarket. He couldn’t have known about it until this morning.
He is here because of what happened last night in the desert. The rogue was his vampire.
Enough posturing, Chael. You care nothing for human concerns. You are here because I killed your whore.
A cold light flashes in his eyes, a hint of a smile touches his mouth. She was a whore. But a useful one. She had influence over the vampire community in our part of the world.
So why did you send her here? Why did you let her indulge her sick game?
He looks surprised at the question. To get your attention, of course. I knew of your history with your own whoremonger, the mortal, Max. I knew he would come to you when it became obvious a vampire was committing the killings. I knew you’d kill her in turn.
An elaborate charade. What if Max hadn’t called me or I had refused to help?
Then the killings would have gone on until you had no choice but to get involved. You and that highly developed sense of
It’s what I want.
What I find when I step into the living room scuttles those plans.
He’s sitting on my couch, feet up on the coffee table, looking for all the world like he belongs.
He’s even helped himself to coffee and is reading my paper.
Son of a bitch.
It’s Chael.
CHAPTER 10
T HE LAST TIME I SAW CHAEL, HEAD OF THE MIDDLE Eastern Vampire Tribe, it was exactly two months ago today. He was dressed in Savile Row then. Today it’s Rodeo Drive. He’s in dark slacks and a cream-colored polo shirt, leather loafers on stocking-less feet.
He looks up when I enter, radiates no concern that I’ve jumped into full vampire mode. He lays the paper down, rises slowly, hands outstretched placatingly. He is slight of stature, dark-skinned, with sharp features and hard eyes. When he stands, we are eye to eye.
He waits for me to speak first, hands still outstretched as if to show he has come unarmed.
We are vampire. We are never unarmed.
Teeth gritted, I open my thoughts. He speaks no English, but we can communicate the way of all vampires, telepathically. You have violated my privacy. How did you get in?
A shrug. It was not difficult. The glass door off your bedroom was unlocked.
Stupid of me. I often leave that slider open. Too high for a human to access but not a vampire.
Is an unlocked door considered an invitation to trespass in your country?
Chael lifts his palms in a gesture that admits he overstepped, but he offers no apology.
Why are you here?
Uninvited, he sits back down, picks up the newspaper and scans the front page. You have been busy. Interfering in mortal affairs again. One eyewitness says that you “flew” over a counter and across the floor to shoot a man armed with a rifle. They are calling it a miracle. I call it an inexcusable display from one who is bent on keeping our existence a secret.
So, you read English now?
A deprecating shrug. I had someone translate the story for me.
I’ll bet. Irritation pokes at me. I growl, The last time I checked, I didn’t answer to you. And what concern is this of yours? You are a long way from your home territory.
It is the concern of all vampire when their true nature has been exposed. What do you plan to do to rectify this violation?
I close down the conduit between us. What I plan to do is none of his business. I know faddish human nature. This will pass as soon as something more interesting comes along to capture the imagination of the public. A baseball team will reach the playoffs, a movie star will be arrested for consorting with a fifteen-year-old. Mortal attention span is short.
You have no plan, do you? Chael shakes his head. As the Chosen One, you are proving once again how immature and ill prepared you are to lead a superior race.
This again. My temper rises as the real reason for this visit suddenly strikes me. He is not here because of what happened yesterday at the supermarket. He couldn’t have known about it until this morning.
He is here because of what happened last night in the desert. The rogue was his vampire.
Enough posturing, Chael. You care nothing for human concerns. You are here because I killed your whore.
A cold light flashes in his eyes, a hint of a smile touches his mouth. She was a whore. But a useful one. She had influence over the vampire community in our part of the world.
So why did you send her here? Why did you let her indulge her sick game?
He looks surprised at the question. To get your attention, of course. I knew of your history with your own whoremonger, the mortal, Max. I knew he would come to you when it became obvious a vampire was committing the killings. I knew you’d kill her in turn.
An elaborate charade. What if Max hadn’t called me or I had refused to help?
Then the killings would have gone on until you had no choice but to get involved. You and that highly developed sense of
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