The Vampire with the Dragon Tattoo

Chapter Four

Leah was greatly relieved to see that all the adult partygoers had gravitated to the far side of the room. They were so focused on opening presents and watching the children that they barely gave her and Abby any notice.

At the first refreshment table, she loaded cheese, crackers, and fruit onto a small plate while Abby poured two cups of punch. Popping a pineapple chunk into her mouth, she glanced warily at the crowd across the room. How many of them were vampires? And how on earth did vampires have babies? Did those pretty little children shoot fangs out on occasion and transform into bloodthirsty monsters?

Mommy, I just killed the nanny. Can I have a cookie?

With a shudder, her gaze shifted to the foyer. Maybe she should say she needed to go to the restroom, then she could sneak out the front door and call a cab. But it would take time for a cab to arrive. Could she slip past the guarded front gate, or would she have to climb the wall?

Would they let her leave? She knew their big secret. And they claimed to need her help.

“Here.” Abby passed her a cup of fruit punch.

Leah took a sip. “Is it true? If I help you, I could save over a thousand lives?”

Abby nodded. “We think so.” She drank some punch. “If you recall, there were three microscopes in the lab. The first one, the one you looked at, showed a blood sample from Gregori. The second one is from Roman’s son, Tino. And the third is from one of Master Han’s soldiers. You’re welcome to look at them whenever you’re ready.”

Leah sighed. “I’m afraid I’m not taking this very well.”

“You’re doing fine.” Abby patted her shoulder, then headed toward the second table. “Come on, let’s check out the desserts.”

Leah followed her, but instead of admiring the giant cake, her gaze drifted back to the crowd across the room. What on earth? There were two men in kilts? The last man she’d seen in a kilt had been her Irish grandfather. A wave of grief swept over her with the vague memory of a haunting melody. How she missed him.

No one had enjoyed life as much as Grandpa, so it seemed like sacrilege for the Undead to dress the same way. Each of the kilted men held a young child in his arms. “Are all the children half vampire?”

“The kids like Tino are. Did you want to go back to the lab and see his blood work?”

Leah gave her a wry look. “Was that the plan all along? Appeal to my curiosity to lure me in?”

Abby winced. “Well, you have to admit it’s all fascinating. Right?”

“I admit nothing. To even consider vampires as real—I’m either crazy or dreaming.” Leah ate a cube of cheese. Cheddar, sharp and creamy. Would it taste this real if she were dreaming? But the alternative was she was crazy. And that conclusion put her one step closer to utter panic.

She glanced at the third refreshment table. It was covered with bottles and empty flutes and wineglasses. “Is that synthetic blood?”

“Yes.” Abby bit into a chocolate-covered strawberry. “The bottles on ice are Bubbly Blood, a combination of synthetic blood and champagne. Roman’s invented a whole menu of Vampire Fusion Cuisine. Bleer that’s half beer. Blissky that’s half whisky. You get the idea.”

“Vampires like to get drunk?”

Abby chuckled. “I’ve seen Gregori overindulge.” A humming noise emanated from her pants pocket, and she retrieved her cell phone. “Oh, that’s him now.” Smiling, she put the phone to her ear. “Hi, sweetie.”

Leah shuddered. Sweetie bloodsucker?

After a pause, Abby frowned. “Not now. Give us some time, okay?” She hung up. “I didn’t think you wanted to visit with any more Vamps for a while.”

“I don’t.” Leah glanced again at the vampires across the room. They were smiling and chatting like normal people. But they weren’t normal. Nothing was normal anymore. “Why are some guys wearing kilts?”

“They’re Scottish.” Abby scanned the crowd. “That’s Robby MacKay and Ian MacPhie. They’re security guys.”

Leah pivoted around till she spotted the camera with its red blinking light. Was she still being watched? If she dashed out the front door, would she be chased down by a vampire in a kilt? “If I don’t accept this, they’re going to erase my memory again, aren’t they?”

When Abby was silent, Leah turned toward her. “Are they?”

Abby winced. “Is it that hard to accept?”

Leah’s heart raced. What was hard to accept was the way she felt trapped. Coerced. It was like they were holding her brain hostage. Play along or have it tampered with. With trembling hands she set her cup and plate on the table.

“Leah, no one will hurt you,” Abby assured her, her voice sounding muffled and far away.

A wave of dizziness blurred Leah’s vision, but she shook it away. She’d rather make a run for it than faint. Better to show strength than weakness. She turned toward the entrance, desperately gathering her energy and courage for the mad dash to the foyer and front door . . . and froze.

Gregori paused in the entrance, spotted her and Abby, and waved. Another man joined him. A short man in a lab coat. Laszlo. He raised a hand in greeting, giving her a hopeful smile.

Leah’s heart thundered in her ears. No escape. The lab mouse was thoroughly caught in the maze. The guppy had been tossed into an aquarium with sharks. Welcome to your new world.

A third man moved into view, and her breath caught. He was large, his shoulders easily taking up half the entrance. A kilt. Another security guy? Why was he blocking the door? Did he know she was about to make a break for it?

Her gaze lifted past his wide chest and impossibly broad shoulders to his face. His eyes. He was looking straight at her. Straight through her as if he could see her soul. He shrugged his right shoulder.

She turned away.

Who was he? Her back tingled as if she could feel his green eyes boring right through her, sharp emeralds slicing through her defenses till she was laid completely bare. The thundering in her ears grew quiet. A strange sense of calm stole over her, a sense of inevitability, as if her entire life had ticked away slowly for the sole purpose of arriving at this one moment in time. She knew without a doubt who he was. She’d felt him watching her all evening.

He was the man behind the camera.

Dougal winced inwardly. Leah Chin had taken one look at him and turned away. He rolled his shoulder once again where the damned tattoo continued to sizzle with warmth.

“Dr. Lee and Roman think it’s going well,” Laszlo said.

Wishful thinking. She was ready to bolt. Dougal could see the tension in her stance, feel the aura of desperation radiating from her. She was a brave lass, but her courage was being taxed to its limit. It made him want to pull her into his arms, though he doubted she’d accept comfort from a Vamp. “Ye doona think it is wrong to drag her into our world?”

Laszlo twisted a button. “We need her help. She’s absolutely brilliant in her field of expertise.”

“She speaks Mandarin, too,” Gregori added. “In case we need to go back to China.”

Dougal stiffened. “Ye would take her on a mission? She shouldna be put into a dangerous situation because of our problems.”

“Relax, dude,” Gregori told him. “As long as we’ve got the prisoner in the silver room, she’ll be able to work here.”

Laszlo nodded. “I’m looking forward to working with her.”

With a grin, Gregori elbowed the short chemist. “Admit it, bro. You’re crushing on her big time.”

Laszlo blushed. “Well, she is a genius. Very pretty, too.”

Dougal’s prosthetic hand fisted, and he hid it behind his back. Release, dammit! Unfortunately, Leah chose that precise moment to glance at him. She looked away quickly before he could wipe the angry scowl off his face. Bloody hell. She would think he hated her, when in truth—what was the truth? He desperately wanted her to be the girl he’d lost almost three hundreds years ago? It was impossible. And an insult to this lass who was brave, bright, and beautiful in her own right.

“I could give you a few pointers,” Gregori offered.

Laszlo tugged harder at the button. “I—I’m not sure if she would welcome any attention from me.”

“Dude.” Gregori frowned at him. “If you want her, you gotta go for her.”

The button popped off and clattered onto the marble floor. When Laszlo bent over to retrieve it, his unruly hair flopped over his eyes. He pushed his hair back and stuffed the button in his pocket.

Gregori patted him on the back. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ll get you ready for her.”

The hell you will. Dougal tensed, his hand still fisted. Should he declare his intentions? What intentions? If it were up to him, he’d let the poor girl escape.

“What you need, dude, is a makeover,” Gregori announced. “I’ll set you up with Wilson over at the Digital Vampire Network. He’s the one who makes regular Vamps look like TV stars.”

“H-he can make me look good?” Laszlo asked.

“He does my hair.” Gregori smoothed a hand over his perfect hair. “He’ll update your wardrobe, too. No offense, bro, but you’re looking . . . well, like a nerd.”

Laszlo glanced down at his plaid shirt, plastic pocket protector, and khaki pants belted high at the waist. “Something’s wrong with my clothes?”

Gregori heaved a sigh. “You need help, bro.” He glanced over at Dougal. “It wouldn’t hurt you to update, too, you know. How long have you been wearing that kilt? A couple of hundred years?”

Dougal scoffed. “ ’Tis new.” He’d ordered it in Glasgow a few years back. Well, ten years. He finally managed to relax his prosthetic hand.

“And the poufy shirt?” Gregori eyed it askance. “Did you steal that off a pirate?”

“Nay.” Dougal had had his share of scuffles with pirates, but never over a shirt.

Gregori’s mouth twitched. “We should trade your bionic hand in for a hook and get you an eye patch. Then you’d really look like a pirate. You already have the long, wild hair.”

“ ’Tis no’ wild,” Dougal grumbled. He’d tied it back with a strip of leather. He glanced over at Leah and discovered her looking at him. She turned away. For the first time in centuries, he wondered what a woman saw when she looked at him. Did he actually look like a bloody pirate?

“What am I going to do with you guys?” Gregori sighed. “Laszlo looks like a dork, and you—Dougal, you gotta lose the skirt, the poufy shirt, and the hairy handbag. That thing is scary.”

Dougal glanced down at his sporran, made of black muskrat fur. “ ’Tis verra practical. Where else would I keep my coin?”

“Pockets!” Gregori gave him an incredulous look. “Have you heard of those? Sheesh, dude, you’re medieval.”

He stiffened. “I’m no’ medieval.”

“Dougal, you’re accessorizing with a dead animal.”

“I’m no’ medieval. I was transformed after the Battle of Culloden in 1746. ’Twas called the Age of Enlightenment, in case ye dinna know.”

Gregori snorted. “You fought for Bonnie Prince Charlie? How enlightened was that?”

Dougal gritted his teeth. “I fought for freedom from English tyranny. As a bloody Yank, ye should understand that.”

Gregori shrugged. “Fine. But I’m telling you, man, if you want to find a woman, you need to upgrade.” His eyes lit up. “I bet you need some practice, too. Don’t go anywhere.” He took off across the foyer and down the hallway.

Laszlo fiddled with another button. “What is he up to?”

“No good, most likely.” Dougal looked at Leah. She was nibbling on a strawberry and casting curious glances at the crowd of Vamps across the room. “Are ye serious about her?”

“I-I’m not sure,” Laszlo answered quietly. “She may be in shock, so I should probably leave her be for a while and give her some time to adjust . . .”

As Laszlo continued to reason with himself, Dougal studied her. She was a natural beauty, and he would wager a year’s earnings that she was unaware of it. Her hair was long, thick, and black, her face small and delicate, her neck slim and graceful. So much like Li Lei. Same creamy, porcelain skin. Same tilt of her head. Same little nose and exquisitely shaped mouth. He nearly moaned when she bit into a strawberry, then licked the juice from her lips.

Her eyes were different. They were a lighter, more golden brown, and their shape was a little rounder. And there was another difference. A huge one. Leah Chin was alive. This was no ghost shrouded with regret but a vibrant, lovely woman.

Li Lei’s hair had always been pulled tightly back, but Leah’s hair was loose. A glorious, shimmering curtain that swayed gently with her every move. He couldn’t wait to touch it, feel its silky texture, and run his hands through it.

His gaze drifted lower. Her knit shirt covered her shoulders, but he had no doubt they were beautiful. The clingy material outlined her breasts nicely, allowing him to envision the—

“ . . . mounds,” Laszlo said. “More like mountains.”

“What?” Dougal gave him a wary look.

“Paperwork,” he clarified. “Mounds of it. I doubt I have time to court Dr. Chin.”

“Right.” Dougal glanced once again at Leah and discovered her staring at him. Her eyes widened, and she turned her back. Damn, was he that scary to look at? Her abrupt movement had caused her hair to swing back and forth. It was cut bluntly across, the ends right below her shoulder blades.

A vision popped in his mind with him flat on his back and her sitting astride him, riding him, with her hair swaying wildly. And when she leaned forward to kiss him, her hair fell forward to sweep gently across his face. He would be immersed in her softness, her sweet fragrance. Just imagining it made his groin grow—

“ . . . tight,” Laszlo continued. “Very tight schedule. So much to do and so little time.”

“Aye,” Dougal muttered. So much he would do. He would caress her all over, explore every inch of her creamy skin, make her moan and writhe and scream with pleasure. He adjusted his sporran to conceal his hard—

“ . . . staff,” Laszlo said. “We have staff meetings every night.”

“Every night, aye,” Dougal mumbled. He would pleasure her every night.

“Oh God, no,” Laszlo whispered.

Dougal followed the chemist’s line of vision and spotted Gregori coming toward them. He was carrying VANNA in his arms. Who would bring a life-sized sex toy to a birthday party for bairns? Obviously, she wasn’t intended to be a present for the children. That meant . . .

“Bloody hell,” Dougal growled.