Samson's Lovely Mortal

SIXTEEN

The Chinese New Years Parade was in full swing, and the masses of people watching the festivities squeezed through the narrow streets of Chinatown. The colorful dragon which was carried on sticks by even more colorful young Chinese men wound its way through the festive streets. Lanterns and lights hung from each shop and each restaurant on the way.

Delilah had tricked Carl. She’d sent him on a fool’s errand to the drugstore—pretending to have stomach cramps—and had been surprised at how easily he’d bought her lies. She knew that Samson would probably punish him for leaving her alone, but she couldn’t allow herself to feel sorry for him now. She needed to get away.

A future with Samson was impossible, and the faster she put a stop to all this, the better for all involved. The last day and night had severely tried her belief in reality. Suddenly she’d been confronted with a world in which vampires not only existed but pretended to live lives similar to humans.

And in the last few days she’d also had to realize that all walls she’d built around herself had started crumbling. She’d never told anybody about the pain she’d carried around with her for so long, and she still couldn’t understand why she’d told Samson. Of all people, he didn’t deserve her trust.

He’d lied to her, again and again. And he would continue lying to her. In his eyes she’d seen his desperation to have her, consume her. What other lies would he dish up, just so she’d stay? She barely knew him, and the idea of spending eternity with him was too foreign, too much, too soon. While she was with him, she knew she couldn’t think straight. He’d make sure of that by seducing her over and over again. And Delilah knew she would be unable to resist him.

But she couldn’t make an important decision like that, a decision that meant being with a vampire forever, while she was in his arms, when her brain was utter mush.

It was pure luck that Amaury had interrupted them, and she took it as a sign that she had to escape. It was now or never. She finally had to think with her head and squash the little voice coming from her heart—the voice which kept on insisting that she was making a big mistake.

Delilah knew she couldn’t make it to the airport for the last flight out, since it was too late already, but she would hide in a small hotel, somewhere where he wouldn’t find her. She’d give a wrong name, pay cash. And tomorrow morning, she’d be on the first flight to New York. She was pretty confident that she’d considered every precaution she had to take, because if anything, Samson was resourceful and would try anything to find her.

Delilah had forgotten about the parade. The crowds made it difficult for her to get through the streets, but there’d been no taxi. She had to make it down toward Union Square where she hoped she had a better chance of finding transportation.

Her suitcase felt heavier and heavier as she rolled it behind her. She had taken everything that was hers, not wanting to give herself an excuse to go back. She was weak enough in her resolve as is.

The music and the noise of the crowd drowned out some of her thoughts as she tried to push her way through the sidewalk. Every few seconds she got bumped by somebody or felt another foot on hers. Her toes were already bleeding, she was sure.

Under other circumstances she might have enjoyed the colorful parade, sampled some of the exotic foods, and even bought a trinket or two, but a sightseeing tour of San Francisco was the last thing on her mind.

Different languages whirled past her ears as she inched forward through the crowd. Young and old faces passed her, men and women, children and seniors, Caucasians and Asians. It took more than fifteen minutes just to advance one block.

Delilah was relieved when she finally made it through the maddening crowd and found herself in a quieter alley. She would be able to cut through the worst of the crowd from here and find her way to Union Square down the hill.

The sound of the wheels of her suitcase on the cobblestone street echoed through the alley. In the background the music mixed with it and then the sound of cars and motorbikes.

Another faint sound made her spin around, but she saw nothing. She was still too jumpy. It would settle, soon. Her imagination was just playing tricks on her.

Delilah turned into the next street which was wider than the alley she’d come from. To the left was a dead end, so she turned right. The street was lined with apartment houses three stories high, and their entrances were blocked with iron gates, their piercing spikes accusingly stretched toward heaven. She walked along the sidewalk and lost herself in her thoughts again.

She had to convince herself that she was doing the right thing by leaving him.

Too late Delilah heard the sound behind her, the engine of a motorcycle. She twisted her head and saw it heading straight for her. She was unable to make out the dark figure riding it.

Her feet picked up speed, and instinctively she let go of her suitcase. She ran, but the motorcycle gained on her, the sound of its engine growing louder as it approached. Louder and more menacing with every second. She could never outrun it. Frantically she looked to both sides to find a hiding place where the motorcycle couldn’t follow her.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a movement, but it was too quick for her to register what it was.

“Delilah!”

The bellow echoed through the street and bounced off the buildings. A bellow of somebody clearly horrified. Before she could turn, she felt arms push her out of the way, slamming her onto the asphalt. She fell hard. The impact made her ribs hurt, and she groaned loudly.

The lights of the motorcycle blinded her for a second as she whipped her head around, just in time to see the bike hit the person who’d pushed her out of the way. She saw the figure flung into the air as if it were a ragdoll, then crash down. The downward fall was broken by the spikes of the iron gate.

The body hung there, impaled.

The motorcycle skidded, a figure tumbling to the ground, rolling, then getting up, obviously uninjured. The engine suddenly cut out, and it was quiet.

Delilah’s side hurt as she tried to move, but she had to. The biker was heading for her after briefly glancing at the figure impaled on the gate.

Delilah stumbled to her feet. It was too dark for her to make out who the person on the gate was, but she knew nevertheless. She’d heard him scream her name in a voice that was all too familiar. He had pushed her out of the way and saved her life, if only for a few minutes.

But she didn’t want to acknowledge who he was. Because if she did, her whole world would collapse. The person who’d pushed her out of the way of the motorcycle, trying to save her, was now impaled on the gate, seemingly lifeless.

Delilah tried to move, but her feet froze firmly in place when the biker came toward her, as if somebody was keeping her in place by invisible strings. She tried to lift one foot in front of the other, but couldn’t. Nothing would move. She was paralyzed.

Something caught her attention and made her snap her head to her right. That’s when she saw them: several men in dark clothes rushing toward the scene. That’s when she realized she had no chance. It was over. They were coming for her. They would kill her, just the way the motorcyclist had killed her rescuer.

Delilah looked back at the biker who suddenly turned away from her and sprinted in the opposite direction, away from the men. What?

“Delilah?” she heard another familiar voice. A second later, Amaury stood next to her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, dazed. Suddenly her muscles moved again, and she almost collapsed. Amaury caught her.

“Samson?” Her head tilted to the direction of the iron gate. She didn’t want to hear the answer. She watched in horror as two of the men brought him down from the spikes and laid him on the ground. A slight movement caught her eye. Had he moved by himself?

“Samson!”

Delilah tried to run toward the man they’d laid on the pavement. Samson. A strong hand pulled her back.

“No,” Amaury said. “You don’t want to see him like that.”

She yanked her arm out of his grip. “He’s hurt because of me!”

She ran to him, dropped down next to him. Samson’s body lay slack on the ground, blood pumping from several large wounds. So much blood! But to her surprise, she didn’t feel the usual queasiness in her stomach that normally befell her when she saw blood.

Delilah looked at his face. It was smeared with blood. But his eyes were open.

“Samson.” She stoked his cheek. Her eyes filled with tears at pain displayed on his face. She’d never seen anybody in this much agony, this much physical pain.

In the background she heard Amaury give commands, but all she saw was Samson, the man from whom she’d tried to run away. Why? She couldn’t remember.

“Somebody help him! We need to get him to a doctor,” Delilah called out to Amaury. Cold fear gripped her as he gave her a grave look.

“A donor is on the way.”

She didn’t understand. “A donor?”

Samson tried to speak, but his voice was a mere gurgle. Delilah bent closer to him, trying to soothe him. But she didn’t know what to do. She had no first-aid skills, and even if she did, would they even work on a vampire? She was helpless.

“Don’t try to speak. We’ll get you help. Everything will be alright, please, just hold on,” she encouraged him, knowing her words were a lie, ringing hollow in her ears.

Samson moved his head from side to side.

“No!” she screamed, understanding what he meant. “Amaury, tell me what to do!”

Amaury was at her side. “His injuries are too extensive. He knows it. I’m sorry, but he’ll die if he doesn’t get human blood immediately.”

“Then get an ambulance, and get him a transfusion.” She suddenly remembered the vending machine at Dr. Drake’s practice. “Can’t you get some bottled blood somewhere?”

“Bottled blood won’t work, not this time. His injuries are too grave. He needs blood coming directly from a human’s vein. He needs the life force of a human to help him regenerate.”

“I’ll give him mine.” Without hesitation Delilah pushed the sleeve of her sweater up

“No …” Samson’s voice was weak, but determined. His eyes cast a pleading look into Amaury’s direction.

“He won’t let you,” Amaury explained.

Delilah gave him a surprised look then shook her head. For once she didn’t give a damn what anybody did or did not want her to do. She would not sit by idly and let him die.

“I don’t care. He’ll take my blood.”

“I can’t let you do that, Delilah. Samson forbids it.”

Tears flowed from her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she looked back at Samson. “I won’t let you die.”

It looked as if he tried a smile, but his face distorted in pain instead.

She put her wrist to his mouth. “Bite!” she ordered with fierce determination.

But he didn’t bite. Instead, he turned his head away from her wrist.

“You stubborn vampire! Fine, you won’t bite, I’ll have one of your friends bite me, and then I’m going to force-feed you my blood. Do you understand?” Anger colored her voice, and she saw something flicker in Samson’s eyes. Disbelief?

“Amaury, bite my wrist,” she commanded, stretching her wrist toward Amaury.

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

She gave him a sharp look. “Somebody else then? You!” she shouted at one of the men who’d helped take Samson off the gate. “You’re a vampire—bite me, damn it, so I can feed Samson.”

The vampire hesitated and looked between her, Samson and Amaury.

Suddenly Delilah felt a hand on her other arm and turned. Samson’s hand had gripped her.

“... don’t want … hurt you,” he pressed out, his voice barely audible.

Now he had decided he didn’t want to hurt her? What about when he’d lied to her? The man’s timing sucked. Major. She’d have to have a word with him about that, but later.

“You will only hurt me if you leave me. Don’t leave me, please.”

She placed her wrist at his mouth again, but he made no move. That’s when she lost it. Anger rolled over her. “Bite me, damn it, or I’ll kick you in the balls so hard you’ll scream into the next century! Do you understand?”

A second later she felt the sharp pain of her skin breaking and liquid dripping. A fraction of a second later the pain was gone, and Samson’s fangs were firmly lodged in her wrist. She felt him suck, his eyes closed.

With her free hand she smoothed his hair back from his bloodstained face. “Take what you need, my love.”

Delilah felt more than heard his sigh. She dropped her head to his, and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m here, Samson, I’m here.”

Amaury helped her lift Samson’s head into her lap so it was easier for her to feed him.

“Thank you.”

Amaury shook his head. “Samson is a very lucky man to have you.”

The commotion behind her made her turn her head.

Two vampires brought the struggling biker with them. The helmet was gone now, and revealed was a head of long auburn hair. She’d seen the woman before, at the theater.

Ilona Hampstead, Samson’s ex-girlfriend.

Ilona tried to escape the hold of the two vampires, but despite her struggles, she couldn’t. They were stronger than she was. Her expression was furious.

The woman stared right at Delilah, watching how she let Samson drink her blood.

“What, you think he’s going to be yours just because you let him have your blood? Dream on, sister!” Her voice was laced with venom.

Delilah returned her vile look with a killer stare of her own. “Bitch! I’ll deal with you later!”

She wanted to wring the woman’s neck for hurting Samson, for nearly killing him. Delilah looked down at him as he suckled from her wrist and saw how Samson’s eyes flew open in shock.

“Everything will be fine, my love; they’ve got her. She can’t hurt you anymore,” she whispered to him. His eyes fell shut again, and then he let go of her wrist. She looked at Amaury, alarmed.

“It’s fine. He’ll take however much his body can process at a time. He’ll need more, later. We’ll have a donor by then,” Amaury assured her.

She shook her head. “No. I won’t allow it.”

“How cute,” Ilona spat out.

Delilah ignored her. “He’ll only drink from me, nobody else.”

“But it’s too dangerous. He needs too much blood,” Amaury warned her.

She lifted her hand in protest. “Only from me.”

Then she gave Ilona another look and took off her jacket. She rolled it up and rested Samson’s head on it, before she got to her feet, still wobbly. Her ribs hurt, and she put her hand to her side to support her movements.

Amaury offered his arm to steady her, and Delilah gladly took it.

“What are we going to do with her?” Delilah asked him.

“We?” Amaury gave her a stunned look.

“Yes, ‘we.’ And don’t even think about excluding me. I have every right—”

“You’re not going to have a little mortal tell you want to do, are you?” Ilona taunted Amaury as she struggled in the grip of the two vampires holding her. “Wimp!”

Amaury gave her a nonchalant smile. “You should know that I’m not susceptible to your insults, Ilona.”

“You’re gonna screw her too once Samson discards her? Or maybe even before?”

“I think you should shut up while you have a tongue,” Amaury warned her. Delilah shot him a surprised look.

“Oh, yeah, bitch. That’s what he does, the high-and-mighty Amaury. He fucks Samson’s castoffs.”

“As if you hadn’t asked for it,” he retorted.

Ilona let out a bitter laugh. “I wonder whether your friend knows about it. Maybe somebody should tell him.”

Delilah’s look bounced between the two. Clearly they knew each other more intimately than anybody would have guessed. Had Amaury somehow been involved in Ilona’s and Samson’s breakup? Had he betrayed his best friend?

“It’s not working, Ilona. You can’t finagle your way out of this one. So, where is Milo?”

“Milo?” Delilah echoed.

Amaury gave her a sideways glance. “We’ve just found out that Milo is Ilona’s brother and is behind the entire scheme to rob millions from Samson’s company. He deceived Thomas and got access to his password.”

Delilah stared at him in shock. “Milo masterminded this?”

Ilona blew out an annoyed huff. “That idiot couldn’t plan anything. He couldn’t even execute what I told him to; otherwise, you little bitch, you’d be pushing up daisies by now. But no, he had to give the job to some idiot human who screwed it up every time. I should have done it myself in the first place,” she ranted.

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda,” Delilah replied sarcastically.

Ilona snarled at her. “You think you can have him and all his money? Think again. He’s just playing with you: Samson never loved anybody but himself. He’s a selfish man and an even more selfish lover. He’ll grow tired of you, and then he’ll dump you.”

“Just because you couldn’t give him what he needs doesn’t mean I can’t. And as for being selfish, why don’t you look in the mirror sometime—you’ll see who’s selfish. Oh, sorry, I forgot: you can’t look in the mirror, can you? Then I guess you don’t really know how ugly you actually are, so I’ll just give you the skinny—you’re a fucking hag.”

Ilona hissed and struggled to free herself from her two guards, murder in her eyes. “Let me just get my fangs into you, bitch—I’ll show you how ugly I can really be!”

“Enough! Where’s Milo?” Amaury gave the two vampires a nod to increase their hold, twisting Ilona’s arms back to an unnatural and painful position. She winced.

“I don’t know where the idiot is.”

“Fine, then we have no more need for you.”

Delilah looked at Amaury. “You’re not letting her go, are you?”

“Letting her go? No. We’re killing her.”

Amaury pulled a wooden stake out of his jacket pocket. Delilah stared at the stake then back at Ilona, whose eyes had grown wide. She knew what was coming. Yes, she would die, but Delilah wanted to be the one to deliver the final blow. It was her man Ilona had nearly killed, so it would be only right for her to punish the woman.

Delilah made a grab for the stake in Amaury’s hand, but he stopped her.

“No, it’ll be my pleasure. Samson is the best thing that ever happened in my life. Anybody who wants to hurt him had better defeat me first.”

Delilah had to concede. Amaury’s determination was palpable.

“Thanks for the great sex, but as I said before, it’s all meaningless. See you in hell.”

Ilona’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe he’d actually do it. Her lips opened, but no words came out. Amaury raised his arm and slammed the stake into her heart. For a split-second disbelief spread over Ilona’s face. A second later she was dust. The air picked up the tiny kernels of dust and carried them away.

When Amaury turned back to Delilah, he gave her a long look. “Without emotions, it’s all meaningless.”

Amaury organized Samson’s transport back to the house while more vampires were dispatched to hunt down Milo.

Carl expected them when they returned and had already prepared Samson’s bedroom, placing clean sheets on the bed. Carl and Amaury helped cut the torn clothes off Samson’s body and clean his wounds before they placed him onto the bed and put a single white sheet over his body.

“He’ll need fresh blood every couple of hours,” Amaury advised. “You can change your mind, you know. He wouldn’t expect you to do this. In fact, he’d want me to dissuade you from continuing this.”

Delilah shook her head. “He’s hurt because of me. I’ll give him what he needs.”

She’d changed into a t-shirt and leggings and sat next to him on his bed.

Amaury nodded. “Carl, we’ll have to mix Delilah some strengthening tonic so her blood regenerates faster. We should have everything we need in the kitchen.”

Samson stirred.

“He needs you now.”

Amaury and Carl left the bedroom, and Delilah leaned down to Samson, placing her wrist at his mouth. Without opening his eyes his fangs sank into her skin.

“Yes, drink, my love. We’re home now.”

She cradled his head in her lap as she fed him. Already she could see that some of the wounds had started closing. The blood flow had stopped, and the blood was clotting, creating a crust over the wounds. The healing process had started.

The sucking sensation on her wrist wasn’t painful; on the contrary, it filled her with peace.

When Samson finally let go of her wrist, his lips moved. “Delilah,” he whispered, but drifted back into unconsciousness instantly.

Delilah held him while she watched every movement of his body. This time she had not hesitated when action had been required of her. This time she hadn’t stood by to let somebody she loved die. She had acted. She had surprised herself at how strong she’d been there on that street. The courage she’d felt when being confronted with Ilona had been new to her, but knowing that all the vampires that had surrounded her were on her side, had helped.

Amaury came back to the bedroom, bringing her a disgusting-looking concoction of vile-smelling liquid.

“What’s this?”

“You don’t want to know. But it will help you sustain the blood loss.”

Delilah believed him. How had her world changed like this? She was lying in bed with a vampire who she would give as much blood as he needed and willingly drank the vilest liquid her lips had ever touched, trusting the vampire who handed it to her.

“I’ll keep you company.” Amaury pulled the armchair closer to the bed before sitting down. “He’ll need about twenty-four hours to recuperate.”

“But he’ll pull through, won’t he?”

“With your help, he will.”

Amaury rested his head against the high backrest of the chair.

“Tell me what happened,” Delilah wanted to know.

Amaury nodded. “Samson told you about Ilona, about their breakup?”

“Yes. He told me about her. But he didn’t mention that you and she …” Delilah cleared her throat.

“He didn’t know.” His look when he met her eyes was sincere. “Listen, there’s no need for him to know. I didn’t betray him. She came to me after he’d thrown her out of his life. Hey, I’m not proud of it, but I’m not exactly choosy when it comes to women.”

“You killed her as if you felt nothing for her.” The thought made her shudder. What did it take for a lover to be so cold? When she looked into his eyes, she recognized pain.

“Sex is just sex for me. Nothing else. It’s something I need, and I pretty much don’t care who provides it. I don’t mean to shock you, but that’s who I am. It doesn’t change where my loyalties lie.” His gaze drifted to Samson, and she understood. “Without Samson, I wouldn’t be here today. He saved my life numerous times. He’s a good man.”

She nodded and stroked Samson’s cheek. “And he’s mine.” She looked back at Amaury just in time to catch his warm smile. “What was Ilona’s plan?”

He sighed. “She wanted to be mistress to a multimillion-dollar fortune. She wanted what is his. If Samson had blood-bonded with her, Milo would have killed him. And all the money would have been Ilona’s.”

“Oh my God, she wanted him dead?” Cold fear gripped her.

“That’s what greed does to people. Living off his fortune wasn’t enough for her.”

“What do you mean?”

“When a vampire blood-bonds, his mate has a right to everything that’s his. They will become joint owners. It obviously wasn’t enough for her. She wanted it all. When Samson broke it off with her, her dream went up in smoke. So she had to figure out something else.”

Delilah shook her head, trying to shake off the images in her mind. “What was she planning?”

“First she had her brother, Milo, infiltrate us. We had no idea. She was new in town herself, and suddenly Milo showed up and … well, it wasn’t that hard for him to seduce Thomas, I guess. He’s a big softy at heart, and frankly, even in San Francisco, there aren’t that many gay vampires. So his choices were always a little limited.

“Milo figured out enough about the internal workings of Scanguards to know that just stealing Thomas’ password wasn’t enough. So he dug around in the records, and must have found out about John’s little depreciation fraud and used it to blackmail him. It was easy enough. You were on the right track, you know, with your audit. You would have found it eventually.”

He gave her an approving look.

“You did half the work,” she conceded.

“Only after you showed me which way to go. Ilona was smart. Carl told me earlier today that he saw her at Samson’s computer once, possibly trying to get into the system, but he’d never given her his logon or password. So she obviously had the idea before.”

“Are you sure? He gave it to me, and he’s known me a lot less time than he knew her.”

“Not even I know his password, and I’m his closest friend. He trusts you like he’s never trusted anybody else. I don’t think he ever trusted Ilona, even though he was prepared to marry her. I guess the loneliness was finally getting to him. He always wanted a family.”

Amaury smiled softly, his look drifting to Samson on the bed.

“Once Milo had John’s password, he was able to upload encrypted wire transfers. He then just had to go back in with Thomas’ password and authorize them.”

“Thomas must be devastated.”

“Milo overpowered him earlier tonight and chained him with silver.”

“With silver?”

“It’s the only metal we can’t break or bend. Vampires can’t escape silver chains. And it burns our skin. We were lucky to get to Thomas in time. He was in a lot of pain, but he’ll be fine. Personally, I’m surprised Milo didn’t kill him. Maybe there were some feelings involved after all …”

“I feel sorry for Thomas to be tricked like this by his lover. Do you think John knew what Milo was up to?”

“Probably not,” Amaury guessed. “And even if he had an inclination, he probably just ignored it, figuring the less he knew the better. John was really a pawn in this game. Not quite an innocent, but he certainly didn’t deserve to die.”

“What’s going to happen to his family? He had a wife and children.” Delilah could only imagine the pain his wife was experiencing.

“Samson will take care of them. We have a large charity fund which helps the families of those employees who die in the line of duty. It happens, you know, with some of our bodyguards. And even though John didn’t die in the line of duty, Samson will do right by him.”

“And the man who attacked us?”

“I’ve sent two of our men to release him. They have instructions to erase his memory of anything related to Samson, you, or any other vampire. There is no need to punish him any further. John’s wife will need all the support she can get.”

“Others in your situation wouldn’t be this kind.”

“You mean because we’re vampires?” There was no accusation in Amaury’s voice.

“Even humans would be crueler. I certainly didn’t expect this kind of consideration from vampires—no offense.”

Amaury shook his head. “It has nothing to do with being a vampire or not. There are good and bad among us, just like there are good and bad among humans. Turning into a vampire doesn’t make you bad. And being human doesn’t make you good.”

“And you and Samson, you are good.”

“We’re no saints, but we try to be as good as we can. It’s a constant struggle, but we win more often than we lose.”

Delilah smiled at him. “How did Samson find me in time?”

“Your scent. He could have tracked you through the entire city. He knew your scent so well, and then of course, he licked your blood from your hand—that only intensified it. When Carl told him you were gone, and we knew Milo and Ilona were loose in the city … I’ve never seen him so panicked in his life. He was ready to kill somebody.”

“I’m sorry.” She truly was.

“Next time you’re planning to leave him, give me a heads-up, will you? So I can get out of the line of fire.”

She wouldn’t leave him again. If he still wanted her, she’d be his. She planted a kiss on Samson’s forehead and ran her hand through his hair.

“That won’t be necessary, Amaury.” She smiled at him and saw that he understood.

“He’ll be glad to hear that when he wakes up. Why don’t you sleep a little? I’ll watch over him and make sure he feeds when he needs to.”

“Thank you, Amaury; you’re a great friend.”

Her eyelids were heavy, and within minutes she was out, sinking back into the pillows as she kept Samson’s head cradled in her lap.