Destined for an Early Grave (Page 51)

Vlad let out a foul curse even as I sputtered, "Are you serious? You left me, remember? Now you want to fight to the death over me? What kind of game is this?"

"No game, luv," Bones replied. "Just retrieving what’s mine. You might want to decide soon. Vlad looks as though he’s about to explode."

I cast a quick glance at Vlad, who did look like he was moments away from detonation.

"You come into my home to blackmail my friend?" Vlad snarled. Those flames climbed higher on his arms. "I’ll – "

"I’m leaving."

Vlad swung his gaze to me. I reached out, ignoring the licking flames on his arm. "Don’t. I couldn’t…"

I hoped only Vlad heard the rest of that sentence. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to him. I might be pissed at Bones. Hell, I might want to roast him over a few flames myself, but I couldn’t risk his life by stubbornness. From the energy rolling off Vlad, he wouldn’t strike to wound.

Not to mention, I wasn’t about to risk my friend’s life; the glint in Bones’s eyes said he wouldn’t strike to wound, either.

Vlad tugged his beard and gave Bones a chilling glance. "I won’t forget this."

Bones smiled in open taunt. "I certainly hope you don’t."

Things would get violent any second. I swept past them. Forget my things; it was time to go.

"Are you coming or not?" I asked Bones as I went outside.

"Of course," Bones replied. I didn’t wait, but took the arm Mencheres politely offered me and stomped over to what I assumed was their car, Fabian trailing behind me.

"Love your home," Bones said to Vlad in parting.

The answer he received made me glad I’d chosen to leave. If the two of them fought, there was no doubt that only one would walk away from it.

I waited a full half hour after we pulled away before I spoke. Bones had handed me a pair of headphones as soon as we got into the car. I’d blasted them loud enough to be dangerous. Damned if I knew where we were going with all that noise. But finally, I took them off, keeping my eyes closed.

"What the hell do you think you were doing? Vlad might have burned you into nothing more than a smear on his floor if I hadn’t decided to go with you."

Bones let out a snort. "I didn’t doubt your actions for a moment. You’ve never been able to turn down playing the hero to rescue me."

Bastard, I thought, and hoped that got through loud and clear. Whatever Bones’s motivation in coming tonight, it wasn’t for romantic reasons to win me back, that was clear. Was it just vampire territorialism? Even though he didn’t want me, Bones didn’t want someone else to have me? That was probably it. Well, I wasn’t anyone’s property, as he and Gregor would learn.

"You’ll regret this," I settled on saying.

Another snort. "I don’t doubt that either, Kitten."

I didn’t reply, just put my headphones back on.

Chapter Twenty-Four

YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS."

I eyed the abandoned building with the blown-out windows, crumpled far wall and dilapidated roof with more than a little dismay. To make matters worse, it was surrounded by a junkyard. A smelly junkyard. Even Fabian looked like he wanted to run.

Bones shrugged. "I don’t see the problem. It’s quite safe."

You vindictive, manipulative –

"Care to see your room?" he interrupted my mental rundown. The look on his face said he was enjoying this.

"Let me guess – it’s that smashed-up car right over there," I said, pointing to a flattened old Buick.

"Oh, you’re not staying out here," Bones replied, walking over to the shell of the building. "Quasimodo!" he shouted.

There was a loud creaking noise, like what a machine would sound like if it could feel pain. Then from out of the ruined side of the building, two vampires appeared as if sprouted from the ground.

"We thought you’d be here an hour ago," one of them commented. "Her food’s cold."

I was about to assure this unknown person that the smell had killed my appetite anyway, when a brunette seemed to levitate from the crumbled concrete next to him.

"Catherine."

I gave Bones a glare promising terrible revenge. He didn’t look at me, but his mouth twitched.

"Next time," my mother said, forgoing a hello, "call if you’re going to be late."

The building was a front. The section that appeared to have collapsed hid an elevator complete with fake concrete blocks on top of it. At least the structure below had its own air-conditioning system, so the stench from the junkyard was greatly lessened in the underground dwelling. My guess was that it was an old bomb shelter. Don used some of those back in the States for his base of operations. Waste not, want not and all that.

"Welcome to Trash Castle," my mother said as she gave me and Fabian the tour. "They had to drag me in here against my will when I first saw it. I’m sure your scurvy husband chose it just for revenge."

So was I, but I wasn’t going there. "Bones isn’t my husband, as I’m sure you’ve been told."

She gave me a shrewd look. "You don’t believe that."

Six minutes, ten seconds. That’s all it took to make me want to run out of here screaming.

Bones wasn’t here. He’d dropped me off with a comment that he had business elsewhere. It had been all I could do not to yell, "Why did you risk your life taking me from Vlad’s if you still can’t stand to be around me?" But that would let on about how much I cared. So I didn’t say a word. I watched Bones leave without once asking when, or if, he intended to come back. Would I rather rot under a huge trash heap than admit how much it hurt to see him again, let alone see him walk away? You bet.

After three days at Trash Castle, I decided it was the perfect place to be if you wanted to go crazy but had a limited amount of time to do it in. Being fifty feet under a dump locked in the equivalent of a cellar with a listless ghost and an outspoken mother, all while thinking about the man who’d left me, was bound to bring on insanity faster than any circumstance I’d experienced before. Soon the idea of banging my head against a wall seemed like a fun way to spend ten minutes, and I fantasized about near-death experiences like they were a chocolaty dessert. Puberty had been an aromatherapy session compared to this.

Despite the smell, I took to going topside and clearing out sections of the junkyard just to do something. Fabian had his own way of dealing with the situation. He watched endless TV. My mother read or did crossword puzzles, in between comments about how if I would have listened to her, I wouldn’t be here today. Was it any wonder I preferred spending my time around stinky garbage?

I’d been sweeping up the far section of the dump when I heard the thrum of the automobile. Even though I knew it couldn’t be a lost tourist, since it was clear that we were on the ass-end of nowhere, I hadn’t waited to see if it was friend or foe before climbing to the top of the nearest garbage heap. Death? Didn’t scare me. It would be a vacation from Smell Central.