Always the Vampire

“Pounding came first. Said the boss got what he wanted.”


“These were humans?”

“Two crazy, mean mortals.”

“How would a mortal know about the amulets, and why would one care about having them?”

“Think these guys worked for Starrack.”

“Did they stink like the Void?”

“Maybe. Don’t remember. Busy dodging fists.” He paused, panted for breath. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

“Got to get to the beach. My skin is itching with the change.”

“Then stop stalling and tell me where to find your freakin’ first aid kit.”

“Bathroom,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

As I hurried to the doorway, it crossed my mind that the amulet might aid in healing Triton. Then I dismissed the thought. I didn’t know how to use the darn thing for such a delicate operation.

In the short hall, I instinctively turned left. Yep, there was a decentsized bath in the same chaotic shape as the rest of the place. The first aid kit, however, was in plain sight on the floor. I snagged it then grabbed a few towels that had been dumped in the bathtub. After soaking a face towel in hot water, I hustled back to Triton. What I didn’t do was turn on the lights. If Triton’s attackers were hanging around to have another go at him, no point in making us better targets.

“Here, hold the box while I wash your cuts.”

“Careful,” he whined, but he seemed to be breathing easier. “You were never much of a nurse.”

“You didn’t complain the last time I cleaned you up,” I said as I dabbed the blood from his temple with the sopping face towel.

“I was drunk then.”

“That was the next to last time. Now be quiet while I dab your lip.”

He complied, and I worked in silence for a few minutes, grateful that he had the wind and wits to speak in full sentences. His wounds had stopped bleeding, and a lot of mouth breathing helped me keep my gag reflex under control. When I’d sponged away all the blood, I patted his face dry with the second towel.

“Okay, hand me the antibiotic cream.”

“You get it,” he said, thrusting the box in my belly. “My eyes hurt.”

“Baby,” I teased to ease my own tension. A spot between my shoulder blades itched, as if someone had me in their sights.

“So when was the last time you nursed me?”

“When Sophia Pappas nailed you in the back of the head with a water pail,” I replied, twisting off the tube cap and then smearing antibiotic cream on his forehead.

“Oh, yeah. She was a pretty little thing,” he added with a half smile.

I snorted and dotted cream on his lip. “She was the most vicious girl in the Spanish Quarter, Triton.”

“She was jealous of you.”

“Right.”

“She was. So were most of the girls our age. You had freedoms they didn’t have.” He wheezed a chuckle. “They thought you had me, too.”

That shot a little pang in my heart, but I shook it off and recapped the tube. “I suggest you downsize that ego so you can walk out of here.”

“No problem.”

Slower than grass grows, he levered himself out of the armchair, then wove to the left, and pitched into my arms.

So much for walking under his own power.

I slung his arm around my shoulders. “Put your weight on me.”

He did, but even with vampire strength, my knees almost buckled from the unexpected awkwardness of holding him semi-upright. Gee, getting him down the stairs was gonna be fun.

I half dragged him to the deck accompanied by his soft groans. Damn, maybe he did have internal injuries. Would shifting heal those, too?

“Lock the door, Cesca,” he muttered.

“Where’s the key?”

“Was on the kitchen counter.”

I looked back through the doorway, then at Triton’s white face and clenched teeth. He was barely vertical, barely conscious, but propping him up was the best plan I had at the moment.

“Lean against the deck rail, okay? Brace yourself with your arms. I’ll get the key and be right back.”

When he nodded, I got him into position and tore back inside to look for the house keys. They weren’t immediately visible, so I began lifting things. Cereal box, power bars, hamburger-casserole package. Stinky sponge, sticky dishtowel. Ick, gross. I searched a few seconds longer, then plunged my hands into a mound of cereal squares and white flakes that smelled like potatoes.

Pay dirt. I found the keys. Two of them on a dolphin ring.

I dashed back to the deck and dangled the set for Triton to see. “These the right ones?”

“Uh, yeah, but we have company.”

He inclined his head toward the driveway where an elderly couple stood. The same couple who’d taken my ghost tour. The ones Gorman thought were— “Can we be of assistance?” the man called up.

“No. No, thank you. My friend is just, um, sick.”

The woman, dressed tonight in stylish slacks and a sweater set, shook her head.

“No need to tell tales to us, dear. We heard the ruckus in this young man’s apartment and phoned the police.”