Always the Vampire

I punched up Saber on the cell when I hit A1A.

“You find Triton?” he said with no preliminaries. At least he wasn’t shouting this time.

“I did, and he’s with me now, but we have a complication. He was attacked and beaten in his apartment by two men looking for the amulets.”

“Shit. Humans or supers? Were they working on their own?”

“Triton is sure they’re humans. They mentioned a boss but not a name.”

“Ten to one Starrack is behind this.”

“We think so, too.”

“How badly is Triton hurt?”

“Bad enough that I need to stick with him until he shifts and I can be sure he’ll heal.” I paused to take the short cutoff between A1A and 312. “Listen, I’m taking Triton to the pier beach, and I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I have a couple of other things to tell you about.”

“Then I’ll wait for you at home. You can fill me in, and we’ll get Triton to look at mug shots in a few days.”

“Will that do any good?”

“Can’t hurt. If we can track down his assailants, maybe we can persuade them to tell us who hired them. If we get lucky, they’ll not only finger Starrack but tell us where he is.”

“Hold that thought. Is the storm over out there?”

“Yeah, we’re moving tree limbs and picking up the debris. I might be another hour or so, but call me if you have any more trouble.”

“We’ll be fine.”

We disconnected, and I put my cell on the dashboard as the pier parking lot came into view. Bad news was that there were twenty cars parked in the lot and all the closest slots to the beach were taken. Worse news was hearing a party in progress.

I poked Triton on the thigh. “Hey, we need to find a quieter spot.”

He inched his head high enough to see out the windshield. “Damn it. I really need to get in the water, Cesca.”

“You trust me to pick a beach?”

“Just make it quick.”



Normally I’m not a big fan of allowing cars to drive on the beach. Tonight, it was a blessing.

I eased down the Dondanville beach access ramp and onto the sand. And, since the tide was in, I parked close enough to be steps away from the surf. Now to get Triton into it.

I shook his shoulder. “Hey, are you awake?”

“Getting there.” He pushed against the armrest until he was more or less upright. “I smell the ocean.”

“Let’s find out if you can walk.”

My sneakers slapped wet sand when I hopped out of the truck. Hmm. I’d parked even closer to the tide line than I’d thought, but no matter. I’d have better traction by the time I left.

Triton had opened the passenger door, but he moved like a broken puppet just attempting to swing his legs out.

“Damn, I’m stiff as a corpse, Cesca. I need more help than I thought.”

“Then put your arm around my shoulders. I won’t drop you.”

He raised his head and gave me a long look. “What I meant is that I need help stripping.”

“Strip—oh, yeah. I forgot.”

Some vampires may not blush, but I do. And I did. Violently. Thankfully, it was too dark for Triton to see it.

“Can’t you shift and just let your clothes rip?”

“Probably, but I always shift nude. Besides, I’ll need these when I change back in about thirty hours.” He shot me a weak but wicked grin. “Unless you want to drive me home in the raw.”

“I have to pick you up, too? Geez, anything else you want me to do? No, don’t answer that,” I added when he opened his mouth. “Fine, unbutton your shirt while I get your shoes off.”

I toed off my sneakers, then unlaced his and tossed both pairs onto the floorboard. He’d only managed to pull his T-shirt halfway up his chest, so I eased it off.

All the while repeating the mantra, Be clinical. Be detached. It’s only a chest. A very ripped chest and an abdomen I could bounce coins on.

“Okay, undo your shorts.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he teased.

Maybe the rat had seen me blush. Which I now willed myself not to do as I heard the slide of his zipper. Was that skin where boxers or briefs should be?

“I always go commando on shift nights. Don’t you remember?”

I did now, and I gulped.

“Surely Saber does the same on occasion,” he added.

I answered him by crossing my eyes. “Stand up, turn around, and brace yourself on the door.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He followed orders, slowly and with teeth bared in pain. The shorts rode halfway down his hips, and I jerked them to his ankles, not letting my gaze linger on his tight butt for more than a second or three.

When I’d released each foot from the shorts, I tossed them on the car seat. With another reminder to be clinical, I took a discrete deep breath.

“You ready to get wet?” I asked.

The big louse chuckled, and I belatedly got the joke.

“Let me rephrase that, Triton. Are you going to behave, or are you dragging your sorry self to the surf alone?”