“They used to call it galvanism.” He was almost cheered by her small sarcasm; he could be chaffed so all night, but only by her. “A natural force, like light or air. Easy to affect.”
For some reason, that provoked her attention. His leman halted, turned to regard him fully. “Any electronics, or just cameras? What about film? Can you shock people? And lightning, what about?—”
“Lightning is dangerous to fledgling and Elder, film is sensitive to light and may be ruined with small effort.” Photographic plates had been a different story, he seemed to remember, and could have followed that thread into the labyrinth of splintered memory. Yet her questions took precedence, as did bathing in the honor of her notice. “I do not need toshockmortals, and yes, most older sanguinant can affect all manner of phenomena, physical or electrical, according to age and skill. I shall have to teach you most carefully, and from the beginning.”
“Huh.” Did the prospect entice her? She shifted from one foot to the other, wide-eyed, begrudgingly interested. “Let’s see how you are with car alarms, then?” A tinge of uncertainty, as if she expected—or feared—refusal.
What could I ever deny you, beautiful one?“At your service, darlin’.”
CHAPTER 15
Eerie as hell tosee a vampire lay one hand against the door of a brown Toyota Celica with license tags three months out of date, hear the power locks chuck up and the engine start—choppily, since it had clearly been left down here by someone who didn’t care to renew their registration. No need to mess with the steering column’s innards, either, since apparently he could unlock the wheel as well.
Even more thought-provoking was him leaning nearly into her lap from the passenger seat, staring fixedly at the payment terminal, and the credit card reader blinking in semaphore. She didn’t even need to produce the discarded paper ticket clinging to the dashboard. The machine’s LED display scrolledTHANK YOUas it emitted a soft, happy beep, and the mechanical arm across the exit lifted by stagger-degrees.
That close, the old vampire’s body heat brushed against her right arm. He smelled like dusk, fresh grasslands wind, and male, a peculiarly clean musk triggering recent memory. In fact, Simone had to squeeze her knees together, her entire body threatening to turn liquid, and concentrating enough to pull out of the parking garage was momentarily difficult.
Especially with what felt like a toasty, pulsing pool of his blood settled behind her breastbone, sending out waves of relaxation. She hadn’t felt this calmly zen about the world in… well,ever. Relaxed yet alert, trying not to think that her own perceptions could be hopelessly altered at the moment.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to roll more than a city block without finding a sign for I-25; she hoped she wasn’t doing the vamp equivalent of DUI. A few more blocks, a left-hand turn—the green arrow popping up almost as soon as they approached the stop line—and traffic at this hour wasn’t bad at all, even this close to downtown. Merging was no trouble, and there was even a big friendly green sign announcing the miles to Denver with conspiratorial glee.
He hadn’t even asked where they were going. For Chrissake, she was in a dirt-colored, probably abandoned Toyota with an old, freakishly powerful vampire, the engine chopping along but doing its best, and instead of making plans to shake the bloodsucker, she was… what?
What exactly was her goal, here? Sure, she had to make the meet with Barry’s billionaire, but what then? The payment was walking-away money, fuck-you money, the bestkindof money—if it was real.
What about the idea of a cure for the infection? It was a good thing she was driving; she needed time to think, and there was nothing better than freeway piloting for that particular activity. Some of her best ideas had come during long road trips.
Of course, there had been some real howlers as well. Hard to tell the two apart when an idea struck.
“So,” she said, settling more comfortably now that cruising speed had been achieved in the far right lane—good practice, especially since even the big rigs would probably want to pass this poor rinkydink car as soon as the city fell away on eitherside. At least the gas tank was full. “Do I get to know your name, Mr. Vampire?”
He was silent for a few moments, one hand resting on his knee, fingers twitching as if following a private, internal beat. Maybe he suspected she was going to try to blow him up with this car, too.
If she was thinking rationally, she probablyshould. What had happened to her commitment, the burning focus on bounties, on making the world a marginally safer place? A few rounds of athletic sex, coming almost despite herself each time, and she was suddenly… what? Driven insane by hormones?
“I don’t remember,” he said, finally. “Call me what you like. I’ll answer.”
How is that possible?Was it the numbness he talked about, or leftover emotional damage from that fire he kept skipping over, barely giving details? “How can you not remember? It’s your name.”
“I must have had one as a mortal, yes. No doubt I had several after the Dark Gift, for camouflage or… other reasons. After the… the misfortune, it simply didn’t occur to me.” He shifted, settled into that eerie motionlessness. “Choose a name you like; I shall wear it.”
“What if I pick oneyoudon’t like?” How on earth was she even having this conversation? The freeway lifted over a slight rise and dropped, still running ruler-straight under the headlights’ white cone. No need to touch the brake if she kept her following distance nice and ample, but that was an invitation for assholes to cut into her lane.
As usual.
“I doubt you will.” Calmly, as if he’d thought the whole matter over at length. The words were far more fluid now; only a ghost of the drawl remained. “And it does not matter; I will accept any gift from my leman.”
This whole lee-mun thing was getting weirder. Still… it was sad to think of someone wandering around without a name, even a vampire. How deep was the trauma if it erased something so basic?
Are you actually feeling sorry for a bloodsucking killing machine?The power of hormones, maybe. But they were stuck in the car for at least another hour and a half, so she might as well play nice.
She had a contender in the name game already, too. “How about John? It’s simple, doesn’t go out of style. You can be Johnny if you’re feeling frisky, and Jonathan if you’re formal.”
“Jonathan. John.” Testing the word. No excitement in his tone, but no disgust, either. Simone couldn’t sneak a peek at his expression, needing all her attention for the road. A low-slung red sports car roared past to the left, weaving slightly, no doubt fueled by both cocaine and hi-test unleaded. “Very well.”
Lord, give me something to work with here. I’m trying to be nice to a vampire.She freed her right hand from the wheel, extended tentatively across the armrest. “Hi, John. I’m Simone.”Crap.
She’d meant to useJane Smith, keeping it professional. But her real name slipped out, polite as you please—maybe because she was fairly relaxed from gorging on old-vampire blood, or from lingering post-orgasmic endorphins. She expected confusion on his part, or a businesslike shake, but instead his fingers closed around hers and he bent, leaned slightly forward. A soft pressure against her knuckles, a zinging thrill all the way up her arm.
