Trill

Chapter 1-2

I glanced over at Dante, his handsome Native American features partially washed in the lights from the cruiser. My gaze lingered on his sexy mouth. What I wouldn't do to kiss those lips again…

While we sat there in the long grass waiting, the sound of gravel crunching drew our attention away from the Mustang and cruiser to find another set of headlights piercing the darkness along the winding drive of the park. I couldn't tell, but I thought it was another cruiser, until it came closer. Unless it was an unmarked, it looked like a regular car, and it parked directly behind the police unit and cut its lights to parking ambers.

The patrolman unfolded himself from his cruiser as two people emerged from the new arrival. I wasn't sure, but I thought the sporty car's color looked deep maroon. Also, I wasn't entirely sure if the two people who'd gotten out were men or women as their hair was shoulder length. When I heard their voices, I knew exactly who they were. Their British accents made them, and my heart did a crazy little dance between happiness and dread. This could go one way or another, and I wasn't sure I wanted to watch.

“The twins,” Dante confirmed for me, but he didn't need to. I nodded, my gaze never leaving the scene. The voices traveled to our ears. The twins, Heath and Leif Sufferden. Originally from Liverpool, England, they had been turned in 1969. And yes, they had been freaking Beatles fans back then and still are—at least Heath is.

“This car wouldn't be either of yours, would it?” I heard the uniform ask.

“Well, yes it would be,” replied one of them.

“Mind telling me why it's parked here after hours?” the uniform asked.

“Broke down.” “Out of gas…” came voices in stereo.

“Well, which is it?”

“I have the gas can in the back,” said one—I had to guess that had been Leif. His brother, Heath was still standing a few feet in front of the uniform. Obviously, the cop had no idea that the two men were vampires, and if it weren't for the vampiric laws in place, he'd be dead meat right where he stood—all the better for him.

“You got some ID?” he asked.

“Sure.” Heath reached in his back pocket. Wallet out, he stepped forward. Both vampire and human faced one another in the wash of amber and red lights. There came a long pause where no one spoke. Leif moved around their car, empty handed from the open trunk, and now both vampires were in front of the uniform.

Then, without a word, the policeman turned around, got into his car, and drove off. This explained why vampires never got speeding tickets. Mind control by a vampire was total.

Dante was up and moving before I realized it, and I sprinted to catch up. He stopped beside the twins as I pulled up beside him, panting slightly.

“What brings you two to this neck of the woods?” Dante asked.

I cast my eyes on both young men. Twenty-one, and nearly identical down to the wavy, shoulder-length, caramel-blond hair, but I could tell them apart these days. Heath had a more innocent, open face than his brother. Leif simply oozed danger. I saw it every time he looked at me.

“We were driving by—”

“No, they won't believe that story,” Leif broke in. “Tremayne wanted us to keep an eye out, just in case you needed help tonight. I'd say we got here just in the nick.”

“Yeah, gosh, thanks,” Dante said with an aw-shucks voice that didn't belong to him. “He was about to give me a ticket. Gee-whiz, you done stopped him.”

I snickered. Heath stifled his chuckle when Leif shot him a nasty look.

“We actually were prowling for women,” Heath joked. “But at six-thirty in the bloody morning you're not likely to find any.”

“Yeah. Especially in a cornfield, mate,” his brother put in.

“So, what's the real story?” Dante asked with his hands on his slim waist.

“Really, Tremayne wanted to make sure Sabrina didn't come to any trouble.”

“I thought that's why I was here.” Dante sounded slightly peeved.

“Here it comes, brother,” Heath said low, leaning conspiratorially toward Leif.

“Don't matter,” Leif said, hands out in placation. “Anyway, we're here following orders. That's all.”

Dante checked his watch. He looked up at both vampires. “It's nearly dawn.”

Leif and Heath exchanged looks. “Can we bunk at your house, Sabrina?”

“Sure,” I said. “Follow us.”

I was advised to make a room on the north side of my country home impervious to sunlight. I'd chosen my brother's old room because it only had two windows and both faced north. I'd covered them in aluminum foil, bought heavy, dark violet blue drapes to go over them, and matching carpet, as well as the bedspreads. Well, yes. Vampires do sleep in beds, not coffins, who knew? There was a bolt lock on it to make sure that the occupants—whichever vampire chose to come and stay with me—would not be disturbed while they rested during the day. It wasn't unusual to have one, or both the twins stay with me a few nights a week now. Tremayne had pressed his vampire elite guard into service to watch over me during the night since his brother's murder. Dante was my guardian during the day. Up until recently, he'd been my lover, and it made me burn with anger that he couldn't be my lover anymore. I couldn't decide who I was angrier with—Bjorn, or Dante.

Thus was my life—at least for the past three weeks. That was when I had started working at Tremayne Towers in Chicago for Bjorn Tremayne. He was the magnate of the eastern half of the North American Vampire Association. Of course, as things currently stood, he was actually the only magnate in the whole country—there had once been two. Bjorn's brother, Erik, had recently been killed by Toby Hunt (a wannabe, ascended vampire who'd done his best to erase all of us one night in Earthly Pleasures, a restaurant on the vampire side of the Towers). A master certainly had to take over for Erik, and there were none in the United States to take his place. Except possibly Nicolas Paduraru, who was pretty damned close to a master from what I'd heard. He was now acting as temporary stand-in for Bjorn. Oh yeah, Bjorn was no longer acting in his role as magnate. In addition to everything else, Bjorn Tremayne was awaiting trial for killing a human (he'd drained his date, which is illegal). Once Tremayne had his trial, he would be reinstated, at least, we hoped he would. No one knew when this trial was to take place, but it had to be coming up soon. We were still waiting to see what was going to happen with the open seat for the western half.

We all folded ourselves into our respective cars: Dante and I in the black Mustang; the twins in the Eclipse Spider. We all drove out of the park and turned toward my house, which was down the road, around the corner. My house sat on a hill, which also over-looked the replanted prairie and wetlands of the southern portion of this forest preserve. Behind my house was the farmer's field in which Dante and I had scampered the night away as our creatures.

Looking forward to a shower and an all-day sleep, and not expecting any more trouble, I should have been relaxed, but I wasn't. I was already feeling apprehensive as we left the park, and the feeling became unbearable the closer we got to my home.

“Something's wrong,” I said, as Dante turned the corner and headed toward my house. He glanced over at me, slowed down, and braked until he almost stopped. The twins in the Eclipse were behind us, and they had slowed down, too.

“What is it?”

I closed my eyes. As a Touch Clairvoyant, I could take a read of anything or any place, if I were close by, and Know something about the people, or their mood. At times, it saved me from walking into a bad situation. My brother and I could never play hide-and-seek because I'd know, right away, where he was. In some cases, I would have to touch an object, or enter a room to get a read from those who were in the room, but this involved my house—my home for twenty-one years—and I didn't like the vision I was getting. It was disturbing.

“Danger, I think. Maybe. Or—I mostly feel agitation and hostility.” Reading from this distance was hard, but I concentrated on the task. “Harleys—I see men and women. Werewolves.”

“Yeah, Weres,” Dante agreed. “There was a whole group of them out last night,” he informed me. I gaped at him. “I see lights from motorcycles up at your place.” He flicked his gray gaze on me, meeting my own in the predawn. There was a fresh cut on his cheek, partially healed. Had he defended me from said Werewolves? Briefly, I touched his cheek.

The enormous grizzly bear turned on the pack of wolves, rose to his ten-foot stature, and roared, massive paws brandishing sickles for claws. The Werewolves backed down.

Unsettled by the picture I was getting from his battle with Werewolves, I turned my gaze to where my house sat on the hill. From our position, I could see the house and barn's silhouettes against the brighter eastern sky. The sight of the sky's gradual pink, orange, and turquoise banners gave me a jolt. The twins needed to get into a darkened room real soon, or face the sun's burning rays. A hundred thoughts rushed through my head so fast making me feel dizzy, but the Knowing took precedence.

“They want something from me,” I muttered and swallowed, straining not to go into a total blackout, which sometimes happened when a vision of future or past events came to me too strongly. “They think I know something.” I let out a breath nearly overwhelmed by this new complication.

“What do you want to do?” Dante's hand came over mine, he squeezed it briefly, interrupting my read, then let it go. I knew what the Weres wanted.

I cut my gaze to meet his. “The twins need to escape the sun.”

“I know that.” His voice was calm and unperturbed.

“I think we'd better go see what they want.”

“Okay.” He put the car into drive, drove up the hill, turned into my long driveway, and sat there looking at all the bikes and bikers arranged off to one side of the teardrop loop drive, near the house. It was like a mini-rally. There might have been ten to a dozen Harleys. Leather-clad, chain-smoking, rough-looking women stood beside rougher looking men. All of them tattooed, and hairy, looking like the worst of the worst—the men that is. The women looked like bitches from hell.

“What do you think?” I wasn't the mind reader. Dante was.

“I think they just want to talk. But every one of them has either a gun, knife, or chains to back up their threats if it comes down to it,” he explained at length.

“Oh, good. I thought that maybe I was nervous out of respect for the tattoos.”

That earned a smile.

“They don't know that I was the one who beat them off as a bear,” he added, leaning toward me.

“And me as a… Were-creature?”

“Maybe they know that. Be careful what you say to them.”

“Right. I don't think I'll ask them over for Thanksgiving, if that's what you mean.”

One side of his mouth went up in a half-snort.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“I'm getting the name Lundeen, mostly.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“You know anyone named Lundeen?” he asked with a subtle hint of curiosity in his questioning voice as he peered at me. Okay, he probably read my mind, since he was a telepath.