Stakes & Stilettos ib-4 Read online

  "Well. Very well." He blinked slowly. "Did you receive my gift?"

  I touched my neck. "I did. I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for this. It's made all the difference in the world to me."

  "I thought it might."

  "But I don't understand why you didn't tell me you had it the last time I saw you."

  "I wanted to keep it a surprise. Were you surprised?"

  I nodded. "Very."

  He didn't say anything for a moment and simply continued to watch me.

  "I should probably get back inside," I said.

  "Inside where?" he asked.

  I bit my lip. Haven was a secret vampire club. Emphasis on the secret part. Did he know he was twenty feet away from the unmarked entrance? Or was he simply here to speak to me? Maybe he was trying to trick me into revealing the location and then he'd… then he'd what?

  I laughed a little at that.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "It's nothing. I'm just really paranoid. It's been one of those weeks that have made me question absolutely everybody's motives."

  He touched his chest with a gloved hand. "Including mine?"

  "Most especially yours." I sighed. "Look, I don't know who you are. I guess that's the point, right? The whole disguise thing. I get it. It's all superhero and you don't want to reveal anything, but you've got to admit that it's a little bit creepy. I mean, you could be anyone under that scarf, couldn't you?"

  "Are you afraid of me?"

  "Should I be?"

  He shook his head. "I have no plans of hurting you, Sarah."

  I frowned. "That's kind of a strange way of putting it. Just a 'no' would have been good enough."

  "Why would I give you the chain if I was one of the bad guys?"

  "That's a very good question." I forced a smile. "Obviously you're one of the good guys.

  Because without the chain I'd be in a great deal of trouble, wouldn't I?"

  He nodded. "Especially now that the witch is dead and unable to remove the curse."

  "Exactly." I stopped talking for a moment and frowned hard. "Uh… how exactly did you know that she was dead?"

  "If she wasn't you wouldn't need the chain to be normal, would you?"

  I crossed my arms. "But you knew that she was dead. Not gone. Not hiding. Dead."

  He exhaled slowly. "A lucky guess?"

  My mouth felt very dry as I thought of the silver-hilted knife sticking out of Stacy's chest.

  "I think I should be going now."

  "No, wait. Sarah, we must talk."

  I cleared my throat. "Do you think it can wait for another night? I sort of have a date."

  "With Thierry?"

  I nodded. "And he does hate to be kept waiting."

  "I'm sure that he does. But I'm afraid this can't wait either. I'd like you to come somewhere with me."

  I shook my head. "I don't think that's a very good idea."

  "You don't trust me."

  "Why should I trust somebody who hides his face? Look, I don't mean to be ungrateful or anything. I appreciate that you gave me the gold chain. I do. But the odds of me coming along with you wherever it is you want to take me are seriously slim to none."

  He didn't say anything for a moment, and then, "Would knowing who I am change your mind?"

  I looked at him skeptically. "Not sure about that. Who are you? Brad Pitt? My friend thinks you might be Brad Pitt."

  He shook his head. "Afraid not."

  "Do I know you already?"

  "Indirectly, I'm sure that you do."

  "Are you one of Thierry's informants? Or another bodyguard?"

  He shook his head again.

  Great. He wanted to play games. "So show me. Show me who you are and maybe I will be a little friendlier. Although I'm not promising anything."

  He reached up to his scarf but then his hands froze as if he'd had second thoughts.

  "Perhaps you're right. Tonight is not a good night for this."

  I rolled my eyes. "What? Chickening out? That is so not something I'd expect from the Red Devil."

  He laughed a little at that. "No, I don't expect that it is. But… but I've been through a great deal recently that I doubt you'd understand."

  I frowned. "What does that mean? A great deal of what?"

  "I was involved in a horrible accident recently. My face… it's not what it used to be."

  I raised my eyebrows at that. "Your face? Is that why you're wearing the scarf? Some sort of Phantom of the Opera role-playing thing?"

  "That's one way to put it."

  "Look, I saw the movie." In fact, I used to own the DVD until my apartment went up in smoke. "The phantom was a good guy who bad things happened to. I promise not to scream or freak out. As long as you don't start singing everything is going to be just fine."

  His green eyes took on an edge of amusement that chased away the doubt that had been there. "There will be no singing at any point of this evening. That much I can promise you."

  I was warming up to the guy again. Just a little. He was one of the good guys, he just had a little facial disfigurement going on. And the phantom thing was so Gerard Butler, and that was a very good thing indeed.

  Besides, at the moment I was only screaming distance away from Haven's friendly neighborhood bouncer coming to my rescue. I allowed myself to relax a bit. Just a bit.

  "All right, here it goes. At your insistence, remember," the Red Devil said out loud, and then slowly began to unwrap the black scarf from his face to reveal his true identity.

  My now regularly beating heart picked up pace. I couldn't believe he was actually going to do it. He was going to show me who he was.

  I pressed my lips together as he uncovered the damaged flesh. His face, on the entire right side, had been horribly burned. The damage trailed down his neck and, I assumed, continued along that side of his body.

  "Oh, my God," I managed, feeling a huge swell of pity for the poor guy. "What happened?

  What caused that?"

  "Hellfire," he said simply.

  I frowned and my gaze moved to the good side of his face and my heart began to make an impression of the Titanic and sink like a stone into the cold dark depths of the night.

  "Oh shit!" I said out loud as the untouched, handsome side of his face helped me click in to his actual identity—after all, I'd recently seen a picture of him from a computer print out.

  Amy's words from earlier began to ring loudly in my ears.

  "Hellfire. Apparently it completely and totally incinerated his body. There was nothing left behind. It was a closed casket with only a picture inside."

  "Gideon," I said out loud, and my voice was barely audible. "You're supposed to be dead."

  "I am, aren't I?" He studied me as a slow smile grew on his damaged face. "Now remember, you promised not to scream."

  Every muscle in my body had tensed up. "A woman's prerogative is to change her mind."

  "That is true."

  I staggered back a step and held my hands up. "Don't come any closer."

  He raised the only eyebrow he had left. "If you scream, I will start singing. All bets are off."

  My throat felt so tight I wasn't sure I could scream at all. But I was willing to give it a try.

  I opened my mouth.

  Before I could let out a single sound I felt a painful stinging sensation. I looked down at my chest and pulled out the small dart. I stared at it with wide eyes and then looked at

  Gideon, who now held a gun.

  "This would have been much easier if you'd simply come with me when I asked, Sarah," he said. "Now I'm afraid we'll have to do it the hard way."

  It was a garlic dart. Garlic worked as a tranquilizer for vampires and was one of the weapons in the arsenal of your average hunter—let alone the leader of all of the hunters, who had, for weeks, wanted to come to Toronto and kill me himself.

  I began to fall. Gideon moved forward to catch me before I hit the ground and then the wo
rld faded to black.

  Chapter 19

  My eyes snapped open. The room I was in was dim but not dark and I lay on a hard floor.

  I sat up quickly, immediately panicked, and my head swam from the movement. The last thing I remembered was being shot with a dart by Gideon Chase.

  Gideon freaking Chase.

  But I was still alive.

  That was a good start, I guess.

  "You're awake," Gideon said, and my head snapped to the side to see that he was sitting in a nearby chair.

  "Wh… what the hell is going on?" I managed. "Where am I?" My mouth tasted like I'd been sucking on moldy cotton balls, although I certainly hoped I hadn't been. I looked down at my hands to see that they weren't restrained. I wasn't tied up. That was also good.

  At this point, I mentally latched on to any positive sign.

  "We're in an abandoned factory close to your boyfriend's vampire club," he said. I must have looked at him with shock because he continued, "Yes, of course I know where

  Haven is. It always amazes me when people underestimate me. There are ways of knowing anything you want to know, Sarah. About anything or anyone."

  He stood up. Damn, he was tall. I wouldn't be surprised if he was six-foot-five. As quickly as I could I also got to my feet and I looked erratically around at my surroundings. It was all dark and unfamiliar. A huge space. There was a single light shining above us that lit a ten-foot-by-ten-foot area.

  I looked at him without saying another word. His face was so scarred, it looked like raw hamburger. That was from slaying a demon? And the entire casino burned down and everyone thought he was dead. He'd allowed his funeral to happen without letting anyone know he was okay. How many kinds of crazy was that?

  He flinched a little at my stare and touched the damaged side of his face. "I had a witch attempt to heal me as best she could, but the damage has already been done. Burns, especially from hellfire, can't be fixed with only a simple healing spell."

  I swallowed hard. "Does it hurt?"

  "For as long as I have it, it will continue to cause me great and constant pain. An unfortunate side-effect of such an injury."

  I shoved aside any feelings of empathy I had. This wasn't some poor guy who got a raw deal. This was the leader of all hunters. He was a mass murderer. A glorified serial killer.

  "Are you going to kill me?" I hated asking it, because I actually didn't want to know the answer. But I had to know.

  "Kill you?" His lips curled into a smile. "Why? Should I?"

  "I'm going to have to answer that with an emphatic no."

  "You are the Slayer of Slayers, right? I've heard many interesting things about you, Sarah.

  For weeks now. There are hunters in my ranks who are deathly afraid of you."

  "I can be scary when I want to be."

  "I did plan to kill you," he said. "I worked out many different scenarios. I believed that perhaps you would be an interesting prey for a change. Do you know how easy it is to kill a vampire?"

  My hands trembled, so I squeezed them together. "I have no idea."

  "It's easy. Trust me. Most will practically bare their chests to my stake to help make their deaths as quick and painless as possible. It has been extremely disappointing time and time again."

  Despite the waves of panic I was feeling, I gave him a withering look. "Are you kidding me?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

  "What are you telling me this for? Because you expect me to feel sorry that vampires aren't more of a challenge for you? Do you know how sickening and completely disgusting it is that you take pleasure in murdering living breathing people who have lives and hopes and dreams?"

  He cocked his head to the side. "How can I possibly take pleasure from something that is as easy as shooting fish in a barrel?"

  "Then why the hell do you do it?"

  "Because it is what I was born to do. I am the last in a very long line of hunters, Sarah. I went to Harvard and was first in my class. I could have become anything I wanted, but I chose to stay with the family business. Does that make me a bad person?"

  "No, it makes you a sick, evil bastard."

  He laughed. "A tongue as sharp as her reputation. And you feel no fear of me right now?

  I'm very impressed."

  A line of perspiration slid down my spine. "No, you're wrong. I'm scared completely shitless. But if I'm going to die, I want you to know exactly what I think of you."

  He sighed. "Sarah, how many times must I tell you? I don't plan to kill you."

  "You don't?"

  He shook his head slowly. "No."

  "Then what do you want from me?"

  He drew a sharp, silver-bladed knife out from the back of his pants. My eyes widened as the metal caught the light. He took a step closer to me and I took an immediate step backward. Then he smiled and leaned over to place it on the ground between us.

  "Pick up the knife, Sarah," he said.

  I stared at it, then at him, but I didn't make any moves.

  His smile widened. "Your heart must be beating very quickly right now, isn't it?"

  I frowned. My heart. It… it wasn't beating at all. I placed my palm on my chest, but felt nothing. My gaze snapped back up to his. He had his hand out, and dangling on his index finger was the gold chain.

  "Took this back when you were snoozing," he said. "Hope you don't mind me borrowing it for a minute."

  "Give that back to me."

  "Here's the scenario, Sarah. And this should be interesting." He twirled the chain around his finger. "Pick up the knife. And then come over here and kill me. Then you can take the chain back. I even promise not to fight back at all."

  I blinked. "What are you talking about?"

  "You are the Slayer of Slayers. And look at me. I'm the biggest slayer of them all. I'm a very bad man who has done very bad things. You have every right to kill me, so go ahead and do it. Then you can have your chain back and return to your happy little life with your master-vampire boyfriend."

  I bent over and snatched up the knife. My hands were sweating.

  "Good," Gideon said. He slipped the gold chain into the pocket of his black pants, then sat down in the chair again and began to unbutton his shirt. "Let me make it easier for you."

  He bared his chest. One side was smooth and perfectly chiseled muscle. The other resembled melting wax from being burned.

  His throat worked as he swallowed. "Many women have gazed at me as you do now, only they did so with desire, not pity in their eyes."

  My attention returned to his face. "Wow. Brag much?"

  "It's not bragging if it's the truth."

  "Just for the record, I already know about your rep as a ladies' man. Hooray for you.

  Second, the last thing I'm feeling at the moment is pity. More like disgust and hatred."

  He stroked his chest. "Right here. Plunge the knife exactly here and you will get my heart."

  I took a step closer to him. "Is this a trick or do you really want me to kill you?"

  "It's not a trick. Kill me, Sarah, and then you can have your chain back."

  I clutched the knife and drew closer until I was only a foot away from him.

  Kill a man who had killed so many. Whose very existence helped fuel the hunter organization. Whose money went to pay for weapons and travel so hunters could come and get us where we lived.

  Gideon Chase definitely deserved to die.

  The Slayer of Slayers reputation was a false one. Mostly. But it had started because I had killed a hunter. The hunter had tried to put a stake in my chest. I'd managed to shoot him in self-defense before he got the chance. I had every right to do it, but I still felt bad about it. I wasn't a murderer. I'd done it to protect my life. It had been him or me.

  This was different. Even though I knew Gideon was a horrible person who also deserved to die, probably even more than that other hunter had, this… this wasn't right. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill somebody in cold blood.

  Thi
s had to be a trick. It had to be. He sat there, his green eyes open and fixed on me, his bare chest moving in and out with his breathing. I expected him to reach up and grab me, to turn the tables and plunge the silver knife into my chest instead. But he didn't make any move as I touched the sharp tip of the blade to his skin.

  I blinked and felt tears splash down to my cheeks.

  Gideon raised an eyebrow. "Having difficulties?"

  "Dammit," I said softly, and then louder, "Dammit!"

  I threw the knife away and it clattered and clanged, the hollow sound echoing against the walls of the empty factory.

  Gideon frowned up at me. "A lot of people would have welcomed the chance to kill me."

  I sighed very shakily. "Yeah, well, I guess I don't belong to that club."

  "Don't say that I didn't give you the opportunity."

  "Screw you."

  "Lovely." He smirked at me and then stood up from the chair.

  I scanned my surroundings for an exit, but even with my improved vampire eyesight it was too dark. I couldn't even see the walls. I felt trapped and very afraid. "I have places I need to be. Since you said you weren't planning on killing me, I can assume I can leave now?

  With my necklace?"

  "Not quite yet." He studied me, his gaze that was amused before changed to a colder one.

  "I want something from you, Sarah. There is something about you that makes you very special."

  I crossed my arms tightly in front of me. "My sparkling personality?"

  "Other than that."

  I exhaled shakily. "The nightwalker thing? Yeah, I'm sure a nightwalker would make more interesting prey than a regular vamp. You kind of missed out on the original massacre, didn't you? Well, sorry to break it to you, but it's just a curse, even though it's a permanent one."

  "Because the witch is dead."

  "How do you know that, anyhow?" But I already knew the answer before he said it out loud.

  "Because I killed her," he said evenly.

  I sucked in a breath and tried to stay calm as I flashed back on Stacy lying in her bed with the knife sticking out of her lingerie-clad chest. "Why would you do that?"

  His throat moved as he swallowed. "I had her use magic to try to heal me. She was able to relieve my pain for a short time but that was all. She failed me and she had to be punished."