Мишель Роуэн - Stakes & Stilettos

I took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "Of course it is."

"It means that you're safe and the hunters won't know which way to turn until they nominate a new leader."

I frowned. "And the price that Gideon put on your head? Does it mean that you're safe, too?"

Gideon liked master vampires—killing them, that is. They were more of a challenge, and he'd offered a lot of money—millions, in fact—to anyone who brought Thierry to him alive. I hadn't heard one solitary thing about Gideon Chase that made me think he was worthy of anyone's grief. He was dead. He was gone, and I, for one, would sleep a lot sounder from now on.

He smiled thinly. "I will never be safe. That is why I'm constantly vigilant about my surroundings, as you should be as well. I think what happened tonight with Heather was a good reminder of how quickly things can go wrong if we're not careful. When we return to your hometown for your reunion, I'd prefer you stay by my side at all times."

I raised my eyebrows and shifted positions on the sofa to try to ignore the throbbing pain in my chest. "You really think we should still go? After what happened tonight?"

"We don't have to go if you don't want to."

Attending my high-school reunion suddenly seemed like the most important thing in my life. A small reminder of when I was normal and happy. When people accepted me and life was simple. When I didn't ingest blood as my main food source or have to dodge wooden stakes on a daily basis.

"I definitely want to go," I said firmly.

"Then we'll go."

I gingerly touched my bandage and frowned. "Listen, Thierry, can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Josh… he said that I had the blood of two master vampires in my veins… you and

Nicolai. He said that made me special and I could make him a stronger vampire if I sired him. Is that true?"

"He had heard rumors, not facts. His greed led him to want to believe. It also led him to attempted murder, and now he's dead because of it."

My frown deepened. "It's just… I don't feel too bad right now. Sure, I feel like crap, but not as bad as I would have thought I'd feel with an injury like this. I thought maybe the blood had something to do with it."

"Yes, my blood does help to improve your healing abilities, but that doesn't mean he was right in his other assumptions."

"So I'm not special."

"You're very special. To me." He leaned forward and kissed me again. "Now, please rest here, Sarah. I will be back shortly."

"Where are you going?"

He moved toward the door. "To investigate this Red Devil nonsense."

"You really think it's nonsense? That he's not the real deal?"

He paused and turned back to me. "I'm certain he's not the real deal."

Okay. Well, that made one of us.

"I bet he looks like Brad Pitt," my best friend Amy said two days after my date with the wooden stake. "Somebody with presence and serious sex appeal."

I was at her house, lying on her king-sized bed, propped up by a multitude of colorful pillows. Amy had been turned into a vampire about five days after I had, but we'd been friends for a long time before that. I'd made the mistake of introducing her to a vampire named Barry and the two had hit it off so much that she'd been sired on their first date and they'd gotten married about two weeks later.

George sat next to me, cross-legged, as Amy went through her closet trying to find the perfect dress for me to borrow from her vast and sparkly collection.

I used to have a vast and sparkling collection of my own, but thanks to vampire hunters and a well-placed explosive in my apartment a few weeks ago, I was currently homeless— living with George until further notice—and slowly but surely trying to replenish my wardrobe and belongings. I was still twitching a little from watching all of my worldly possessions go up in smoke. Luckily I hadn't gone with them.

But that was in the past. The current subject between George, Amy, and myself was, of course, the Red Devil.

"I'm sure he's very sexy," I said. "But, just remember, he did kill two people."

"Two evil people," George added. "I always had a feeling Heather was up to no good. I'm positive she was dipping into my tips." He eyed Amy's latest selection, a little green number. "That one's perfect for you, Sarah."

I'd designated him as my chauffeur for the day as well as my makeshift bodyguard, at least until Thierry picked me up. We were headed straight to Abottsville and the reunion after I borrowed what I needed from Amy.

"Too low-cut," I said. "I've got a healing stake wound to deal with that I'd rather my entire hometown not get a look at."

Amy frowned and combed her fingers through her short, bright-pink hair. Yes, pink. She'd recently had a minor nervous breakdown when she believed that her husband was cheating on her and had taken it out on her previously blond locks. "I don't think I have anything that isn't low-cut."

"That could be a problem."

I peeled the bandage away under my V-neck T-shirt and peeked at the evidence that I'd come ridiculously close to acquiring fluffy wings and a halo.

George eyed my chest. "A little foundation and some pressed powder and no one would ever know."

It looked much better underneath, but was far from being healed completely. What currently remained of the wound was a raw, red mark about the size of a shot-glass opening—like an evil bruise. All in all, I was fairly surprised at how quickly I was mending. But, as Thierry had said, it probably had a lot to do with the master vampire blood I'd had. I wouldn't be siring any supervamps any time soon, but if I could heal up nice and quick it would be worth it.

I looked at the wound very rarely. Even though I was trying to keep up a good front, I was still deeply shaken by what had happened. Being around my friends and going through

Amy's closet seemed like a good way to keep my mind off nearly dying.

I had barely gotten any sleep last night or what was left of the night in question. I'd stayed at Thierry's townhome both nights, even though I was officially still living at George's place. Thierry was being very careful not to hurt me, therefore I hadn't gotten much more from him than a few memorable kisses, so that wasn't the reason for my lack of sleep.

Unfortunately. No, it was reliving the staking over and over, and throw in my meet-and-

greet with the Red Devil and you've got a recipe for insomnia.

Amy held up an electric-blue micromini with a beaded fringe. I made the gag sign. She pouted and put it away. "You know, it's okay if you're attracted to this guy. He does sound super hot."

"Who? The Red Devil? You think I'm attracted to him?"

She and George shared a look. "Well, of course," she said. "He did rescue you. And you said he was really sexy."

"Did I really say that?" I frowned. "Look, even if he was Brad Pitt, it wouldn't actually matter. I'm with Thierry."

She rolled her eyes at that proclamation. She had as much of a problem with me being with that, in her words, "boring, stoic jerk" as I had with Barry, the man she'd chosen to marry—a short little creep of a vampire who'd hated my guts from the first moment we'd met.

"You know what they say," George said, taking it upon himself to fluff up the pillows behind me so I'd be comfortable. "There's nothing wrong with looking at the menu as long as you eat at home."

"I'm not looking at any menus," I said firmly. "I don't eat anymore. I just drink. Besides, the menu was wearing a scarf so I couldn't even see what kind of a restaurant it was."

George cringed away from me. "Jeez. It's just a saying, Little Miss Cranky Pants."

I sighed. "I know. Sorry. I'm feeling edgy."

"What about this one?" Amy pulled out a black dress with a bit of glitter on the top and held it up.