Real Vampires Have More to Love
Page 50

 Gerry Bartlett

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“God, but I’m sick of this.”
“Me too, Glory. That wind’s damn cold.” Greg stood too close again. “Simon, can’t we finish this?”
“All right. I’ve figured this out.” Simon, still looking like Ray, strode to my side again. “Places, everyone. We’ll use a wide angle to get the group of us here on the beach and Westwood. Then follow Glory as she attacks. Valdez, move and take that arrow with you.”
Rafe snatched the arrow and got behind the cameraman.
“Gloriana, shout at Westwood, I don’t care what. Without audio we’ll just be seeing that you’re steamed and reaming him out. Then charge and snatch the crossbow. We won’t show his face until after the arrow’s in, then zoom in for the kill.”
“If only.” I waited until the cameraman gave me the go ahead. “You murdering slimeball! I hate you. You killed Jerry’s best friend, and he never did a damned thing to you. I’m going to tear out your throat.” I ran up to him in what felt like slow motion but was probably normal human speed and ripped the crossbow out of his hands. My own hands shook as I aimed it at his heart.
“Cut!” Simon clapped his hands. “Perfect. Real emotion. You’re a fine actress, Gloriana.”
“Who was acting?” I jabbed Westwood with the crossbow until he doubled over. “I hate this son of a bitch. Give me the arrow, and I’ll finish him for real this time.” I heard Alesa cheering and saying something about murder being terrific foreplay.
“No, you won’t.” Simon stalked over to Rafe and took the arrow. “Man up, Westwood, and take this.” Westwood had been swearing and threatening to get even with me. “Now fall on the ground and play dead. We’ll edit the film to make it work.”
“I don’t think it will work. Load the crossbow and let’s start over.” Westwood had a gleam in his eyes and forgot to block his thoughts. He wanted to kill me. Now that he was vampire, he thought he could do it right this time.
“No way in hell.” Rafe was right there, standing between Westwood and the crossbow, the arrow in his hand. There was a crack and the arrow broke into two pieces.
“Damn it. That was my last arrow. I had those custom made, you know.” Westwood stomped his foot.
“Save your tantrum. We’re not impressed.” Simon nodded at Rafe. “Good idea. Use the feathered end. Gloriana, pick up the crossbow and stand over him. Here’s your motivation. You probably felt glad Westwood was dead but horrified too. Because you’re not usually a killer.”
“Simon, I was there, remember? And this is a home movie, not in the running for an Oscar.” But I did think about that night and how I’d felt. Sick, relieved to have rid the world of a sadistic vampire hunter but in shock too.
“I don’t want to make a shoddy product, Gloriana. Work with me here.” Simon stood stiffly beside the cameraman.
“Fine. I didn’t laugh and dance on his body, but I wasn’t sorry either.” I picked up the weapon. “Let’s finish this so I can go home. Dawn is too damned close, and I’m feeling it.” I was also coming way down from whatever high I’d enjoyed from all those margaritas. I was wet and cold and sick of everyone around me except for Rafe, who looked ready to body-slam anyone who touched me. I smiled at him gratefully.
“We’re all feeling the dawn, but we have more than an hour left, plenty of time to get this right.” Simon shouted out directions and everyone stepped out of the scene except for Westwood and me. “Action!”
I held the crossbow against Westwood’s body and looked him in the eye. “I hate you. That fang necklace you wore taunted every vampire who saw it. I hope you die at the hands of a hunter someday and that the last face you see is someone who treats you like an animal instead of a human. Now die, you son of a bitch!” I shoved the crossbow into his stomach.
He overacted, of course, falling back with the piece of arrow clutched to his chest and making squawking sounds. I smiled and looked down at his twitching body, kicked him for good measure, then tossed the crossbow at his head. I turned and walked away, not sparing him another glance.
The other vampires in the crew clapped. Greg, who’d gone back to human form and was wrapped in a towel, even whistled.
Rafe tried to pull me into his arms, but I was too fired up.
“Let’s get out of here. We’re done, right?” I saw Westwood stand and brush off his clothes, the piece of arrow in his hand.
“With your part of the filming? Yes. Take off. You did well. I won’t forget it.” Simon looked at me with the promise that Westwood would pay for everything he’d done as soon as his money was safely in EV hands.
“Red convertible. Add turbocharged to my list of options.” I smiled and headed for the tent. I’d had enough. Whatever Westwood did with his stupid video, I wanted no part of it. Just my reward. I wasn’t being greedy.
Alesa called me stupid and started listing all the things I should have asked for. I let her yammer on. At least she wasn’t tap dancing on my brain for a change. Noise, I could tune out.
Rafe was quiet as we walked to his car. I knew some kind of showdown was coming. My stomach lurched as I climbed into his SUV. For once I wished the dawn would come quickly. If I fell into my death sleep, Rafe couldn’t expect me to talk about what he was waiting to get into. I’d changed back into clothes that reeked of Ray. Oh, man.
Twenty
Rafe pulled into a deserted scenic overlook and parked. He turned off the engine, then looked at me.
“You have something you want to tell me?”
“Uh, what makes you think that?” We were in the middle of nowhere. Well, not exactly. From this hilltop, I could see the lights of downtown Austin in the distance. Things got dicey, I could shift out of here and fly home.
“Wuss. Things get dicey, you get naked and show the man what you’ve got. He’ll forget his mad, and we’ll have some fun.” Sex. Alesa’s solution for everything.
Rafe opened his car door and got out. He strode over to stare at the city. Keys in the ignition. I was so tempted to just hop into the driver’s seat and put the pedal to the metal. Nope, I owed him this. I resigned myself to a confrontation and followed him.
“You stink of Israel Caine. You going to deny being with him tonight?” Rafe didn’t look at me, just stayed focused on the incredible view. A romantic setting. What a waste.
“I gave him a ride from the party. He was checking out the place for his record label. They’re having a thing out there.” I put my hand on Rafe’s back. “He was drunk on high-octane blood. It stirs you up, so he made a move. I just happened to be handy. Any woman would have gotten the same treatment. I said no.”
Rafe finally turned to study me. “Why?”
“Because he wasn’t the right man.” Honesty. I couldn’t fake a smile because I knew what came next was bound to hurt him. God, I hated that.
Rafe’s mouth firmed. “I guess I don’t have to ask who you think is right. You’ve been uncomfortable around me ever since our last time together.” He picked up a rock and threw it into the darkness below, then turned to give me a crooked smile. “Guess I wasn’t convincing enough.”
“I’m sorry, Rafe. You know me better than I know myself sometimes.” I sat on a large boulder a few feet away from the edge of the cliff. I didn’t want to be the next thing he threw. “You were great. Wonderful. Most of this is my problem. But you’ve changed since we became lovers.” I sighed. “Really since you dropped the guard-dog act. You never call me Blondie. Never tease me like you used to.” I saw his fists clench. Obviously I was hitting one of his hot buttons. “What’s the deal, Rafe? I hardly know you now.”
“Miss your guard dog? Shit, Glory. You never did know the real me.” He moved closer. “Yeah, I called you Blondie and used a voice I heard in a movie once. It was a persona I put on with the dog body.”
I stood and reached out to take his hand. “Damn it, Rafe. You know I never looked down on you. Certainly never treated you like a dog. We were best friends. I was comfortable with you. Always.”
Rafe sat on the boulder and pulled me down beside him. “No, you treated me with respect. One of the many reasons I fell for you, I guess. You have any idea how much I hated staying a freakin’ dog around you? You did it for five minutes. Try five years. The wisecracks helped keep me sane.” He laughed. “If I am, after all that time with four legs and fur.”
“Why’d you sign up for the gig if you hated it so much?” I leaned against him, comfortable again. This Rafe I knew.
“Blade. We had a contract. It’s a deal he made with my grandfather, and it became a matter of honor. I couldn’t let the old man down by breaking it.” Rafe shook his head. “No way was Blade giving me a break and letting me out of it.”
“He’s a businessman. A contract is a contract to him.” What else could I say? “I’m sorry, Rafe. But you’re off the hook now.”
“Are you kidding? Blade claims I still owe him. Like there’s a loophole I didn’t jump through. Back to the honor thing. I don’t want Blade complaining to Gramps.”
“Your family means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” I squeezed his hand.
“A shifter’s family is a lot like a Highlander’s clan. We’re tight, loyal.” Rafe hit our clasped hands on his hard thigh. “I served my time, Blondie, but your sire made it clear in L.A. that we weren’t done. Seems he didn’t like the way I helped you keep secrets from him.”
“You were being loyal to me!” I bumped against him. “I’ll talk to him, Rafe. This isn’t fair.” Easy to promise, but could I deliver? Especially when he found out . . .
“Save your breath. At least he paid me. When Blade calls in his next favor, I’ll handle it and we’ll be even.” Rafe pulled my hand to his lips. “When’s he coming back?”