A VOW TO KILL

Chapter 5

There was a level of satisfaction that filled a man when he knew he didn't have to rush or panic to make something of himself. It was a pity if most men didn't get to feel that way, Cain thought as he drove lazily down the street.

Maybe it had something or everything to do with being a vampire. Limitless time to do everything he ever imagined. He could afford to wait on an investment, or simply just build it from scratch one brick at a time knowing that he would be there in a hundred years to see it make a name.

Cain stopped his car in front of the old building, his mind this in thoughts but at peace. He could still hear his Ford engine humming even as stepped out of the car. He had a passion for big strong cars, and the blue ford raptor was his favorite in his current collection. He had owned several cars in the years, but this one, he really enjoyed.

Running his hand appreciatively over his metallic beauty, he contemplated the building in front of him. He pulled out the address written on the paper to confirm he was not mistaken.

He was not sure what he had expected, but what he saw had him perplexed. When he had been given the address of the artist whose art he had purchased at the Museum almost a week ago, he had not expected an old brick two store building from the 1970s. He looked up and down the street. 

The building was not exactly in the friendliest part of town. The thought that came to mind was 'struggling artist'. He wasn't concerned about getting mugged, it would almost be hilarious if someone tried. Shrugging to himself, he walked over to the entrance.

Dalinda heard the car pull up outside, she breathed a sigh of relief, the buyer was there to collect the paintings he had purchased during the show, and according to the show organizers, the buyer also had some commissioned work he wanted done. That was the only reason he was picking up his own purchase instead of having the museum handle it.

Dalinda was excited, it was not about the money that she made from the art works, but more the joy of creating new pieces and sharing the beauty of it with others. She had been painting for almost two hundred years and still she got excited over every new work.

Smiling to herself, she headed for the door and pulled it open before the man even had the chance to knock.

The smile immediately fell off her face when she instantly recorgnized who stood in front of her door. “For f**k’s sake!”

“I think there is going to be a need to discuss your bad manners in the near future. Or at least wash your mouth with soap for such terrible language,” Cain drawled seriously.

He had been shocked to see her open the door. Recorgnition was instant, even with her mysterious scent. If he was honest, he was happy to see her, something about the woman really got his attention. But that nice thought had been forced out of his head quickly. He recoiled when he heard her curse as was becoming her customary greeting every time they crossed paths.

“I don’t have bad manners, I am just fed up of seeing a certain blood sucker everywhere I go these days,” she said and put her hands on her hips.

Cain followed her gesture and noticed she wore a very different outfit from what he had seen her in before. The overalls did nothing to complement her figure. It appeared to be at least two sizes too big and had paint smeared on every inch of it. He couldn't even be sure what the actual color of the overalls could be.

Dalinda watched him as he studied her overalls with repulsion. Irritation boiled in her. “What? You have a problem with my outfit?”

“Actually yes, it is rather unflattering for your beauty. I would so much prefer you in something more feminine,” he explained calmly still regarding her clothes with distaste.

Dalinda sneered at him. “Thank God I don’t answer to you and you don’t have a say on my wardrobe.”

Her response snapped him back to his senses and he returned his gaze back to her face. “You really lack social etiquette.” Even as he reprimanded her, he gave himself a mental slap for his own thoughts wondering into her wardrobe. He had no business caring what the woman wore.

She snorted and folded her arms. “What are you doing here?” The question was aggressive and lacked any warmth of welcome.

Cain shook his head, he would have really loved to know what had the woman so consumed in bitter hatred towards him. But he knew to ask would be futile so he chose to answer her question as calmly as possible. He could at least be civilized even if she was not going to even try.

“I’m here to meet with Ms. Dalinda… I am collecting some art works I purchased and commissioning other personal preferences.”

When the woman did not move to call anyone or respond to his statement, Cain dropped every warmth from his voice and addressed her again. “Look, your company doesn’t necessarily bring out the butterflies, so I would appreciate if you called Ms. Dalinda for me and I can be on my way.”

Dalinda chuckled without humor. “What happened to Mr. Etiquette? That was almost very rude I should say.”

“Must be the saying…when in Rome, do as the Romans do.” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Dalinda made no effort to move. And Cain began to evaluate how much importance he was putting to his purchase and wondering if he should just walk away.

As though she had read his mind, she suddenly stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. Almost suspiciously, Cain brushed passed her. He discretely sniffed the air trying to determine her race but still her scent told him nothing except wild trees and paint smelled really sexy to him suddenly.

Closing the door, she led him to the studio. Once inside she wasted no time and pointed at the paintings already packaged and ready for transportation.

Understanding dawned on Cain and he narrowed his eyes. He gave her overalls another look. Even though he knew the smell of paint was practically embeded in her skin, he still hadn't completely put it together until then. “You are Dalinda?” He sounded almost shocked and in disbelief.

“The last time I checked, yes,”

“Incredible,” he said with a small smile still in disbelief.

Dalinda’s nose flared. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing…I am just shocked that you have so much talent.” He elaborated with a wave of his hand around the studio.

“You are shocked?” she asked with incredulity. “That is rich coming from a blood sucker like you. I should be more shocked that you can appreciate any form of art, don’t you need a warm beating heart to appreciate true beauty?”

“You clearly know nothing about me,” he retorted with barely hidden anger. The woman was beginning to get on his nerves.

“I know enough. Nothing cold and dead can appreciate a living breathing work of art. My art pulses with life and inspiration, something you cannot relate with.”

Cain was fast losing his temper with every statement she made. “How modest of you. Shouldn't you wait for other people to praise your work...instead of blowing your own trumpet? What are you even? What gives you the right to look down on me with such contempt?” He tilted his head. “Are you a wolf?”

She chuckled. “Do I smell like a dog to you? If I were a wolf you would have known it, don’t try to play dumb with me.”

Exhaling in exasperation, Cain stepped closer to her in lightning speed. He was ready to hold her shoulders and shake some sense into her arrogant head.

Dalinda did not even flinch at his approach, she had seen him coming with ease. She glared at him and opened her arms wide. “I dare you.”

The words came out on a hot breath, Cain could feel their heat even from where he stood a good two feet away. They gave him pause. Something about the woman’s challenge did not sit well with him.

He was a vampire, fast and strong, but he knew the number of creatures in the paranormal world were too many to keep track of. And he knew, some of those creatures could easily take on a vampire. Cain was not willing to use himself as bait in order to discover what she was.

He took a step back. Dalinda chuckled and stepped towards him slowly. “How fascinating…a vampire fearing death when he is already dead.” Her voice was low.

Cain felt the temperature go up in the room considerably. And the woman approaching him seemed to have heat dancing in her eyes. “What are you?” he asked in a low voice.

“I will be your death if you don’t stop coming after me. And unlike your first death…I will make sure, you remain dead.”

With speed that would have scared any other person, Cain launched himself at her and grabbed her arm. He ignored the instant burning feeling he felt in his hand and wrapped it around her arm even tighter. “Are you threatening me?”

Dalinda smiled up at him in amusement he did not understand. He could rip her heart out in a matter of seconds but the woman looked at him like he was nothing and it infuriated him.

“What’s the matter, Popsicle, you thought you were the badest out there, no one would dare challenge you?” She laughed, a cold bitter sound that made the hairs on his skin stand.

Cain was at an absolute loss of words. The woman was not only fearless, she taunted him.

Dalinda looked at his offending hand around her arm. “You don’t learn, do you?” and just like that Cain felt the heat between his fingers get painfully hot. He had no choice but to drop her arm like a hot potato.

He looked at his hand and saw the burn marks heal. She had burned him. He looked at her and did the wisest thing and took a step away from her. “You are dangerous.”

Dalinda smiled. “I am glad we are finally on the same page.”