Fanged & Fabulous ib-2 Page 7

  He stared down at me. “Oh, I’ll have my revenge, darlin’. Don’t think I won’t. And you’ll never see it coming. But I don’t want you to forget about me in the meantime.” He glanced out at Quinn, then back at

  Thierry. “Two men, huh? Aren’t you the lucky one?”

  My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Go to hell.”

  Peter laughed louder. “Why don’t I make things a little easier for you?”

  He turned and plunged a wooden stake into Thierry’s chest. Thierry gasped, his silver eyes widened,

  and he fell to his knees. I ran up to the stage.

  “Thierry!” I reached up to touch his face.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah—” His pain-filled words sliced through me like knives. “—I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

  And then he dissolved before my very eyes. His handsome face melting into nothingness, his body collapsing on itself until there was nothing left of him but a dark stain on the stage. I could hear Peter laughing. Quinn tried to pull me into his embrace but I pushed him away.

  I shook my head and felt the hot tears cutting lines down my face. And then I screamed—

  “—NOOO!!!”

  I woke up and stood up from the table at the same time, flailing about from the intensity of the dream. I hit something and heard an “oof” sound. And then a crash. Followed closely by a splash.

  My heart beat wildly and my breathing came in rapid bursts. I glanced around as I got my bearings, my hands still clenched into fists. Ready to fight.

  Still in Starbucks. It was just a dream.

  Just a dream.

  I let out a long sigh of relief.

  “That was a double espresso moccaccino, I’ll have you know,” a female voice said. “Five bucks and now it’s gone. Oh God. Look at my shoes.”

  I glanced in the direction of the voice. A blond woman glared at me. I looked down. Next to her stained

  Manolos was a mocha-colored puddle.

  “I am so sorry.” My voice was shaky and a little raspy. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt it in my eyeballs. “I’ll buy you a replacement. For the coffee, that is. A little . . . club soda might be able to clean your shoes up. Are those suede?”

  She jabbed a finger at me. “You have something stuck to your face.”

  “I do?” I reached up to feel around and touched paper. I peeled it off my forehead to find that it was a yellow sticky note with Amy’s handwriting on it.

  Had to go. Didn’t want to wake you, looked like you were having a good dream. Talk later . . . Amy

  She stuck a sticky note to my forehead while I was sleeping.

  I wish I could say it was the first time she’d ever done that.

  I glanced at the girl. She was pretty. Somewhere in her midtwenties, with long hair—alternating streaks of darker blond and platinum—done in two haphazard braids hanging well past her shoulders. She wore a three-quarter-length red leather coat. One of her high-heeled, stained shoes tapped angrily against the tiled floor.

  Those were some nice shoes.

  Too bad they were now ruined.

  I glanced at the table. Amy had left me my coffee. Alas, not a moccaccino. It was a tall regular coffee that smelled like it might have brushed past some hazelnuts somewhere between here and Colombia.

  I grabbed it and glanced at the angry blonde, feeling rather sheepish and still shaky from my visit from the nightmare fairy.

  “Okay, then.” I nodded. “Lovely to meet you.”

  “We didn’t meet.”

  I smiled and nodded again. Usually the best way to deal with an unfortunate situation just before you escaped.

  And then I grabbed my bags and left. Pushing open the front door of Starbucks and feeling the cold air hit my face.

  Lenny tried to be all subtle again in following me. He kept far enough back that after a minute, I didn’t notice him at all as I hurried along the street.

  “Hey!” a voice called out behind me. “Stop!”

  I glanced over my shoulder. It was the blonde.Oh, great . Probably wanted me to pay for her shoes.

  Well, it wasn’t as though I’d banged into her on purpose. I picked up my pace. All I wanted to do was get back to George’s. That dream had seriously freaked me out. I needed recovery time away from hunters and pissed-off, caffeinated fashionistas.

  Her heels clicked against the cold pavement as she began to chase after me.

  I turned the next corner and waded through a small swarm of warmly dressed sidewalk stragglers and looked over my shoulder just as I tossed my untouched coffee into a passing garbage can. It was too hard to juggle with my other bags. Even though the stupidly bright sun made me a bit weary, my slightly increased vampire speed (plus comfy footwear) helped me to move at a definite clip.

  But moccaccino-girl was still coming.

  After a minute when I couldn’t lose her, I stopped and turned around. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re following me, but—”

  She skidded to a halt, panting a little, and held up a shopping bag in front of her. “You left this in

  Starbucks. Damn, you sure can walk fast.”

  Talk about sheepish. “Oh,” I took the bag from her. “Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t realize what you wanted.”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay. Nice store, by the way.” She raised a matching bag of her own.

  I smiled—closed mouth so as not to show off mypearly frights to an unsuspecting stranger. “Great minds think alike. And sorry about the shoes. Really.”

  “To tell the truth, these are fairly old.” She glanced down at them with a sigh. “I guess I can use this as an excuse to buy another pair. What was the problem in there anyhow? Do you lose control of your bodily functions like that all the time or was I your first victim of the day?”

  I shifted my bags to my other arm. “I fell asleep waiting for my friend to come back from the lineup. Had a bad dream and woke up flailing like an octopus. If octopuses flail.”

  “You’re lucky you’re able to fall asleep so easily,” she said.

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  I felt uneasy standing there in the middle of the sidewalk in the broad daylight. It wasn’t safe. A hunter could be watching me right now while trying to figure out how to kill the Slayer of Slayers in a way spectacular enough to impress his buddies. I suddenly got a visual of a thousand tiny wooden

  Sarah-seeking missiles flying through the air. Or just one big one. Either way, not a good place to be for long.

  “I’m going to grab a taxi,” I told her.

  “Do you mind if I share one with you?” She glanced up at the surrounding skyscrapers with a confused expression. “It’s so hard to get used to things around here.”

  “You’re not from around here?”

  “No. Actually, I’m from Florida.”

  “And if you’re from Florida, why would you come to Toronto in January?” I asked. “If I had a choice

  I’d rather be sitting on a beach right now.”

  “You can get sick of beaches.”

  “That’s crazy talk.”

  “Then call me crazy. I’m Janelle, by the way. Janelle Parker.” She shifted her bags to offer me her gloved hand. “You can call me Janie.”

  “Sarah,” I told her, as I shook her hand. I left off the last name. Nobody needed to know my last name.

  It might get me in trouble, and it didn’t matter who I was talking to. Nope. From now on I would just be

  Sarah . Much like Madonna. Or Cher. Or Mary-Kate and Ashley. “Welcome to Toronto. Which is actually Cherokee for ‘we will ruin your designer footwear upon arrival.’ Where are you staying?”

  “The Royal York.”

  I whistled. “Fancy. How long are you in town for?”

  She shrugged. “It’s business related so it could be a day or two. Maybe more. I’ve got some personal stuff to attend to as well.”

  “Do you have family here?”

  When she didn’t say an
ything right away, I glanced at her sideways to see her moisten her lips and blink hard.

  “Family’s one thing I don’t have to worry about anymore,” Janie said grimly, but then seemed to shake her melancholy moment away. She turned to offer me a bright smile. “You just never know what’s behind the next corner, do you?”

  I nodded. “Ain’t that the tru—”

  As we passed the next corner—ironically enough—a hand reached out to grab my coat and yank me into an alleyway. I went sprawling onto the ground in a heap, surprised, with the wind knocked out of me, the contents of my shopping bags spilling out onto the pavement.

  Something blocked out the sun. Was it an eclipse? I squinted up, feeling dazed. No, no eclipse. It was a behemoth of a man blocking the sun and my potential escape.

  “You’re Sarah Dearly, right?” he asked.

  My thousand tiny missiles dissolved and were replaced by the image of one huge man who’d just pulled me into an alleyway, away from the maddening crowd who were apparently the only thing keeping me alive until now.

  Yup.

  Spectacular death. Right here. Right now.

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter 6

  The behemoth had a knife in one hand. “Slayer of Slayers. I’ve been following you all day, waiting for this moment. I’m a very patient man.”

  My eyes widened, and my gaze darted around the darkened alleyway. Where did Janie go? Where the hell was Lenny? “Uh, I think you have me confused with somebody else. It’s okay. I get that all the time.

  No harm done.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You want my purse?” I said again, my chest tightening. “Here. Take it.”

  He fixed me with a narrow-eyed stare. “I don’t want your purse, vampire.” Then he eyed my brand-new handbag. “Hold on. Maybe I will take it. Then I can have some proof that I was the one who took you down.”

  “Hey, what’s your name?” I asked through chattering teeth. Maybe he wanted to talk a bit likeChad did.

  Buy some time.

  “Shut up, bitch.”

  Maybe not.

  I glanced around the narrow alleyway. No doors. No other way out. Where was Lenny? Shouldn’t he be swinging in on a vine like a big hairy Tarzan to save me?

  The hunter grew nearer and so did his knife. A silver knife. Every bit as deadly as a wooden stake to your average vampire.

  “Hey, Sarah! You okay?” I heard Janie shout from behind him.

  He bared his yellowed teeth and turned to face the blonde, then grabbed her leather jacket and shoved her in my direction. I heard a rip.

  Janie looked down at herself. He’d ripped her jacket along the right underarm seam.

  She looked up, her eyes flashing angrily. “Oh, no, you did not just do that. First my shoes today and now my jacket?” She took a step forward.

  “Janie, he’s dangerous—” I tried to catch her arm to stop her from doing anything too stupid, but by then she was out of my reach.

  Janie’s eyes widened. “He has a knife.”

  He looked at it and moved it around in the light. “Yeah, bitch. And I know how to use it.”

  “Good to know.” She swiveled and kicked him directly in the chest. He staggered back a couple of steps, coughing, with an expression of shock on his face.

  She closed the distance between them and he sliced the knife upward, catching the bottom corner of her jacket before she moved away. She spun around and punched him in his stomach. He let out an “ughh!”

  Then she grabbed the arm that had the knife, twisted it behind him, and brought her knee up against his elbow.

  I heard a sickening crack and a surprisingly high-pitched scream of pain for such a large, scary man. The knife clattered to the ground.

  He stared at her in silence for a few long seconds, clutching his broken arm against his chest. And then turned and ran away.

  I think he was crying.

  During the entire duration of this unexpected action sequence I stood against the cold brick wall with my mouth open long enough and wide enough that my fangs had dried out.

  Janie leaned over and picked up the knife. She breathed on the blade and wiped it against her ripped jacket. Then she looked at me and there was a fierce, fiery expression in her eyes, which quickly extinguished back to a cool blue.

  She shrugged. “I hate vampire hunters.”

  “Holy crap,” I managed. “That was the most impressive thing I think I’ve ever seen. Who are you,La

  Femme Nikita ?”

  She shrugged again and slipped the knife into her purse. “It was nothing.”

  I shook my head slowly. “No, that was definitely notnothing . Did I say ‘holy crap’ already? Hold on . .

  . did you say you hate vampire hunters?”

  “They’re just so . . . indiscriminate. You know? Well, most of them, anyhow. Are you okay?”

  I frowned at her. “You’re my other bodyguard, aren’t you?”

  She smiled. “Guilty as charged.”

  “So you know I’m a . . . a . . . ”

  “Bloodsucking monster. That’s right.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “And miss the fun?”

  “You call that fun?

  She shrugged. “Kinda. Still not thrilled about the ruined shoes, but I’ll just include it in my fee. By the way, that’s actually the third hunter we’ve taken down today. This one got a little too close for comfort,

  but all is well.”

  “The third?” I let it all sink in. “So you’re not a distance kind of bodyguard like Lenny. You like to get up close and personal.”

  “Total mistake. I just wanted some caffeine. You were the one who initiated contact.”

  She was right about that, I guess. “Who taught you how to fight like that?”

  She picked her shopping bag off the ground. “My brother. He was into all thatKung Fu shit. Needed a sparring partner so he taught me some moves. He always called me Grasshopper, like in the TV show.

  He was a total geek.” She got a faraway look on her face, but then seemed to shake it off and smile at me. “Listen, we should probably get you off the streets. As much as I love a little afternoon workout,

  we’ve had enough face time for today. I’ve got something else to take care of, but Lenny will see you safely home.” She turned and left the alley, merging onto the sidewalk as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

  “Wait a minute.” I had to hurry to catch up to her. She was walking faster now. I guess when you kick a guy’s ass without even breaking a sweat you might get some adrenaline flowing.

  If I knew how to protect myself like that I probably wouldn’t even need to rely on any bodyguards at all.

  The fitness classes I’ve been taking with Amy didn’t come anywhere near what I’d just witnessed.

  Amazing. The mugger had been easily twice Janie’s size. And he hadn’t been wearing heels. That was a definite disadvantage. In this case, for him.

  “You know,” I began, a plan formulating in my mind as I tried to walk and juggle my shopping bags without dropping anything. “Since you’re already being paid to hang around me, maybe I could get you to teach me some self-defense.”

  She studied me for a moment, shifting the bag to her other hand. “You must know how to protect yourself, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I was standing there wearing my ‘I’m the Victim’ T-shirt while you took care of business.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know, I’m not much of a teacher. But, like you said, I am going to be around—I guess I could, if you like.”

  “I would like.” I smiled, feeling as though this was the best idea I’d had all day. All decade, really.

  “Sarah!” I heard somebody shout, and I turned to look, surprised to see that it was Quinn on the other side of the street waving at me.

  He wore dark sunglasses, a black leather jacket, and faded blue jeans and was smiling so widely I
could see his fangs from a distance. I waved back, and he started to cross the street.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” I said, mostly to myself. “Janie, I’m going to have to introduce you to

  Quinn.”

  I turned to look at her and realized that she was gone.

  Gone. Disappeared.

  I frowned. Where did she go?

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn asked, when he reached me. “You look a little disturbed.”

  For a second I thought about my dream. It had been so vivid. Both the kissing of Quinn and the staking of Thierry. But it was only a dream.

  Only a dream.

  I shook my head and tried to smile. “That’s a look I will probably have a lot in the future. ‘Disturbed’ is my new middle name. What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  I nodded. “Do the words ‘needle in a haystack’ mean anything to you? How did you find me? This is a big city.”

  “When I put my mind to something I can accomplish a lot.” He grinned. “Plus I saw Amy a minute ago.

  It’s her birthday the day after tomorrow, you know.”

  “Well aware.”

  “Actually, the motel I told you I was staying at isn’t that far from here. It’s not bad, really. Soda machine just down the hall. Total luxury.”

  I hated to admit it, but I’d really missed Quinn when he’d been gone. It was only for a couple of weeks,

  but he’d definitely wedged his way into my life in the short time that I’d known him. And he’d had a rough time of it, too. Even worse than me, if I had to admit it. All his life he’d spent under his father’s thumb, traveling from town to town with the rest of the hunters, taking down vampires.

  Then he’d been made into one very much against his will.

  And just before he died, his father had confessed that he was responsible for Quinn’s mother’s murder—instead of her being killed by a vampire as Quinn had been led to believe since he was just a kid.

  Yeah, Quinn’s life had been one lie on top of another, on top of another. And now it was all tied up with a pretty bow of soul-wrenching guilt from his past deeds.

  Despite all this history and pain, all I could think about, standing here in the middle of the sidewalk facing him, was how it had felt to kiss him in my dream.