Chapter Twenty-four – Jack
Chapter Twenty-four
Jack
I woke up in a closet, alone. I sat up—and something metal rattled off my chest. I caught it and stood, turning the light on.
It was Angela’s keyring for Dark Ink Tattoo. The front door, the office door, and the cabinet where she hid the good coffee. It was all mine, now that she was leaving.
“Thank you,” I whispered, still feeling bereft.
How could I explain to anyone what’d happened?
I couldn’t tell them the truth, obviously—I’d have to come up with a really good lie.
Who knew how many artists had already quit or clients moved on, pissed that the place was closed?
Its rep would be in the toilet—but a ‘new ownership’ sign could change all that.
I opened the closet door and stepped out into the bedroom—and found Nikki, perched on the bed, wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt.
“Hey,” I said, pocketing the keys.
“I couldn’t really go to sleep until you were gone.”
“Understandable. Sorry to keep you waiting. Your closet’s nice, thanks.”
She snickered. “There’s a truck outside—one that’ll run. We left you the keys. We’ll need it back, but not for a few days.”
“Thanks. I was wondering how I was going to get out of here—I was a little worried someone was going to make me ride a motorcycle.”
“Nah,” she said, with a grin. “Not in that outfit.”
I looked down at myself. “Yeah. Usually I’m much more fashionable—or at least vampire appropriate.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I hit on you at Happyland. You could’ve killed me.”
I raised my hands, protesting innocence. “That’s really not my style. And besides, you were under orders.”
“I was, but, some of that was me.” She tossed a wave of black hair back. “I mean—my wolf—she like really likes you.”
I chuckled. “It’s not your fault—I have it on good authority that vampires are werewolf catnip.”
“You and Angela?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Yeah.” Memories of my last moments with her came flooding back. She’d said she’d loved me, and I believed her. “Is she okay?” I asked softly.
“Yeah. Jonah gave her a ride into town. We had her phone and keys from that night—she and her boy are on their way elsewhere.”
“They didn’t say where?”
“No. Sorry.”
I swallowed and nodded. “It’s for the best.” I’d known Angela was really gone the second I’d found Dark Ink’s keys on my chest.
“Yeah. She thought so. We talked. And,” she tilted her head, making her black hair spill across her shoulders, “she told me some things.” She stood up and crossed the room toward me.
“Like what?” I asked, before remembering this morning. I’d just been outed as a vampire to an entire gang of werewolves. “Oh—fuck,” I said, as realization sank in.
“Yeah, that, pretty much,” Nikki said, giving me a look and running the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. “I don’t want to get bitten,” she went on, pulling off her shirt. “But Angela promised me that you’d fuck me like your life depended on it.”
I inhaled slowly. She was beautiful, her body was tight, and I could smell that she was willing. I hadn’t eaten at all yesterday, and while the feast Angela’d given me the night before had kept me sated, it wouldn’t last forever—nothing could.
“I….” I began, staring at her, feeling the hunger wake. “I can’t. Not right now. I haven’t been home in days.”
“Oh, come on,” she protested. “What’s a few more hours? Or even a few more minutes?”
“I need to get back, and check on things. I’m sorry.”
She groaned and pulled her shirt back on. As I took a step toward the door I could almost feel my hunger rotate to keep an eye on her, like a separate thing.
It was what I was and who I was, no matter how much I didn’t want it to be.
I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. I’d be able to keep the memory of Angela sacred for one night, but no more.
“Nikki,” I said, so I’d know I had her full attention, as I let my voice drop low and looked back. “When we do fuck, because we will—I promise you it’ll be so good I’ll make you beg me to do things to you that you’re not proud of later.”
Her eyes widened, then squinted. “That’s what men always think.”
I gave her a knowing look, half-myself, half-my-hunger. “Yes, but I’m a vampire. Give me your phone.”
She handed it over, I programmed my number in, and called myself so I’d have her number, and then I handed it back. “I’ll ring.”
“We’ll see if I answer,” she said, taking it from me.
I looked down at her, eyes full of intent. “You will,” I promised her.
After that, I was down the stairs and out the door.
The truck they’d left for me looked bad, but ran well—I drove down south, out of the hills and back into Vegas. I couldn’t wait to get back to my place, take a shower, and get yelled at by Sugar for being gone so long and coming home smelling like dogs.
Then, I would put on clothing that I liked that fit me, and I would sit back on my couch and watch TV.
Do a few drawings. Make a plan for Dark Ink.
Figure out how to pay back Zach for cat-sitting in interesting ways.
Call Paco, and let him yell at me too, and then figure out when I could go over to his place again.
Maybe even let him come over to mine, at long last—
I was still daydreaming about all the possibilities when I pulled into my apartment complex and parked. I’d have to figure out which tow lot my Betty had most likely been taken to tomorrow night. Maybe I’d get extremely lucky, and she’d still be at Mark’s.
I walked up to my door with a spring in my step, found the key underneath the mat where Zach had left it—good man—and unlocked it to walk in. Everything was dark, and sure enough, Sugar started to yowl.
“I know, I hear you—I know,” I said, shutting the door behind myself, and flicking on some lights.
My phone was still on the charger on the bar.
I picked it up out of habit, and saw that I had twenty missed calls or so, a hundred texts—Jesus, Paco, I thought and smiled, without opening any of them up.
I was sure he was pissed about how I’d shooed him off, and that he’d been non-stop worried about me ever since—but I was glad of it.
Glad that someone in my life was still around to care, and that somehow he and I were able to make this work, exactly as it was. Paco might want more from me, and might be angry at my vampire-side for stopping us from having that, but he wasn’t going to pull away.
I meant everything I’d said to him that night at Mark’s before I’d blown him—I would be a part of his life for as long as he would have me.
And that, I realized, was probably the only thing stopping me from falling apart now. Not that he and Angela were interchangeable—because they weren’t, my thoughts and feelings about both of them occupied very different parts of my soul.
But just knowing that he was there for me now and that he always would be—Paco’s presence in my life was like a lighthouse, shining enough light into my dark to keep me safe.
A knock at my door disturbed me from my thoughts. Zach? Stalking me, until I got back? That was a little intense, but he was young—I swiped a hand over my face, and walked back for it, wondering if he’d ever sleep with me again if he saw me in these shoes.
“Hello?” I said, swinging it open.
A tall woman dressed in black and wearing a velvet choker stood there, holding a phone up—and on the phone was what appeared to be a live video of Paco, bound and gagged. My heart fell into my stomach.
“The clock has begun. If you’re not at Vermillion within the next ten minutes, my Mistress will begin wringing your lover’s neck.”
Vermillion was fifteen minutes away on a good day. “Shit, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” I shouted, increasingly loudly, as I grabbed my keys and ran for the door.