Forever Starts Now Page 12

  It would have been easy to believe, really. The notion that a man turned vampire may become a silent watcher over his human wife's descendants in honor of her memory was quite romantic, and attractive too. It seemed to come straight out of one of these romance novels Claire's mother had kept badly hidden in shoeboxes beneath her bed.

  Claire believed the whole thing about as long as it took Matthew to tell her about it. Then she shook her head and tried very hard not to roll her eyes at him.

  "That's the most ridiculous story I have ever heard."

  The flash of pain that appeared on Matthew's face almost could have fooled her.

  Standing, she left her empty mug on the coffee table and started walking around the sofa to find her shoes and her purse.

  "So I'll tell you what,” she said as she kept an eye on him. “I'm going out. I'm going to go find a Special Enforcer to revoke your invitation into my home. And when I come back, if you're still here, I'll have you staked. Do you understand me?"

  He remained seated and did not even turn toward her when he replied in an almost condescending tone. “A Special Enforcer won't stake me unless he has proof that I kill, sweetie."

  Claire gritted her teeth. If there had been a stake anywhere in the house, she might have thrown caution to the wind and attacked him here and now.

  "Fine,” she snapped. “Then I'll try to stake you. And when you try to kill me to stop me, because I swear nothing else will work, he'll have proof and he'll stake you instead."

  With that, she stalked to the front door, picking up her keys and purse on the side table and slipping her feet into the open-toes shoes she kept there. She had time to hear him speak one last time before she slammed the door behind her.

  "You lie very badly. Anyone ever pointed that out to you?"

  She had to restrain herself from storming back in and reminding him that he was the one lying to her with a story so blatantly false that she felt insulted he had thought she would believe it for even a minute. The warmth of sunlight on her face was what stopped her. Outside, in the sun, she was safe. In there, the vampire could lie to her, try to manipulate her, bite her, kill her. She wasn't sure anymore which was worse.

  Now that there was nothing else to distract her, her headache was slowly coming back, pounding blood into her ears, and she decided to go have lunch somewhere before she found Special Enforcers to help her. Remembering she had left her car in a parking lot near the club, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and called a cab. She could make out a figure standing at the window by the drawn curtains as she waited for her ride, but she refused to take a better look. If she never saw Matthew again, it would be too soon.

  After she had picked up her car, she drove to a small diner where she and Jonas had once had breakfast every Sunday morning. The waitress, Natalie, greeted her warmly when she walked in, and knew enough not to lead her to the table that had once been their usual one. She was a gray-haired woman, maybe in her late fifties, with a smile that reminded Claire of her mother and the brisk, economical gestures of a woman who had tended tables all her life.

  "It's so nice to see you back, honey,” she said as she offered Claire the menu. “Though I wish you didn't look like you haven't slept in a week. Are you all right?"

  Claire gave her a half smile that slid into a grimace. “I just had a rough night,” she admitted. “Nothing some strong coffee and the chief's special can't cure."

  Natalie penciled in the order on her notepad and nodded. “Right away."

  The coffee came first, a brew not that much stronger than the one Matthew had made for her, and Claire pinched her lips tight at the memory that he was in her home, right now, doing heaven only knew what. She should have insisted that he leave. He could have called a cab, hidden beneath blankets, and—

  And whatever else he could have done, she had left rather than asked him to do it, and she didn't intend to go back before night fell. He had lied to her, for what reasons she didn't know, but she could recognize that he had also saved her from an undoubtedly unpleasant fate when bringing her back home. She would give him the opportunity to leave safely, and hope that he didn't loot her home in the meantime.

  When Natalie placed her lunch in front of her, she managed a distracted thank you and began eating without much enthusiasm. The veggies and grilled chicken tasted just fine and her stomach growled in protest at the lack of a proper breakfast, but still she couldn't find much of an appetite. Now that she had decided what to do about her situation, she couldn't ignore anymore the way she had ended up in this place. She wasn't proud of herself, far from it.

  She had decided, when quitting her job, to turn her life around and try to find a place within herself where she wouldn't need to risk everything to distract herself from her life, and she had fallen back into the same trap after merely seeing Jonas. Matthew had called her a silly girl, and she was beginning to realize she was exactly that.

  "A problem with the food, honey?” Natalie asked as she refilled her coffee.

  Claire blinked, only then noticing that she had pushed her plate away from her, most of the food left untouched.

  "The food is fine,” she said, apologetic. “I just don't have much of an appetite."

  Natalie clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she carried the plate away. Moments later, she returned with a scoop of vanilla ice cream over a warm brownie.

  "And don't tell me you haven't got an appetite for that or I'll really be offended."

  With a thin smile, Claire picked up the spoon and broke the corner of the brownie. It practically melted in her mouth. One small bite after another, she ate the treat, the warmth of the brownie and cold of the ice cream melding on her tongue. By the time she finished, the diner was almost empty and Natalie came to sit across from her in the small booth.

  "I knew I'd get you to eat something.” She grinned, looking approvingly at the empty dish. “Want another one?"

  "Another time. And thank you."

  "Any time, honey. I don't like to see you looking so upset. It's not about him, is it?"

  Her eyes sharpened at that like those of a hawk. She had been more than sympathetic the first time Claire had come alone and told her about her separation from Jonas. Claire suspected that he had better not come eat at the diner anymore if he didn't want his food tampered with.

  "It's not.” Frowning slightly, Claire amended her answer. “Well, not really. I just made a bad choice last night and had to live with it this morning."

  Natalie continued to observe her, and Claire was reminded, not for the first time, of how her mother had always known when she was lying or not telling the whole truth.

  "Woke up next to someone who didn't look so attractive in the morning, did you?"

  "Something like that,” Claire conceded, shame-faced. “And now I've got to figure out how to get rid of a vamp."

  A single blink from Natalie was more eloquent than a whole sentence from someone else might have been. She left the booth without a word, and Claire was wondering whether she had offended her when Natalie returned and sat back down again. She slid a business card on the table between them. Claire picked it up and read it.

  Vincent Jordan

  Special Enforcer

  4892 Maple Street

  Haventown

  "He's a patron here,” Natalie said quietly. “He lives with a vampire, but he's a good man, and a good S.E. He'll make your home safe again in no time."

  * * * *

  As she parked in front of 4892 on Maple Street, Claire looked at the business card again, checking the number. It was the right townhouse, but it looked nothing like the office she had imagined. Her only experience with Special Enforcers was with Jonas and the agency he belonged to, and he worked with two colleagues from a spacious office building downtown.

  She couldn't help but think about what Natalie had mentioned. How could a Special Enforcer live with a vampire? She had always thought that all Special Enforcers were, in some measure, like Jonas, an
d only interested in killing as many vampires as possible. This was unexpected, and it left Claire both intrigued and wary.

  Setting her reservations aside, she walked to the front door and knocked. It took long seconds before someone came to open it. It was a woman rather than the man Claire had expected, and she knew right away that she was the Special Enforcer's vampire partner. She wasn't very tall, nor did she look particularly dangerous, but her shoulders, held straight and a little back, spoke of a deep confidence. She remained in the shadow of the door, safe from sunlight. When she looked straight at Claire, she was practically glowering. Her voice snapped like a whip.

  "What do you want?"

  Taken aback, Claire had to resist the impulse to recoil.

  "I'm looking for Vincent Jordan. May I speak to him?"

  The woman's eyes hardened even more. They almost seemed to glow. “No. You can't."

  Claire blinked, but before she could ask whether he was out and would return soon, the woman looked behind her and started arguing with a man, loud enough that Claire could hear every word. She turned toward the street, trying not to listen and wondering whether she ought to leave.

  "So I can't even speak to visitors, now?"

  "You're supposed to be in bed, Jordan."

  "I've been in bed for a week. If I don't start moving I'm going to get insane."

  "You can't—"

  "For crying out loud Lilia, I'm human, not a child!"

  At the string of muffled curses and the sound of stomping feet, Claire turned back toward the door. A man was now standing there, leaning against it as though supporting himself. He winced lightly as he shifted his body.

  "Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic grimace. “Lilia is a bit ... overprotective sometimes. Can I help you?"

  "Mr. Jordan?” At his nod, she continued. “My name is Claire Sheer. Natalie at the diner on Stillman gave me your card. She said you could help me with..."

  She stopped, hesitating. It felt strange to ask help from a man who clearly saw nothing wrong in fraternizing with vampires.

  "Let me guess.” He smiled lightly. “Vampire trouble?"

  Claire's cheeks burned like fire. She nodded.

  "I invited a man into my house last night. I'd like ... I'd like him uninvited. And possibly kicked out, too, if he's still there."

  A flash of something Claire didn't quite recognize—Disapproval? Sympathy?—ran through his face, then his features smoothed out in an apologetic look.

  "I'm afraid I won't be able to help,” he said. “I've been hurt and I'm off duty for a couple more weeks—"

  "A month,” the woman called out from behind him. “At least a month."

  He raised his eyes to the sky and muttered under his breath. “She wasn't that annoying when she wanted me dead."

  "I heard that, Jordan."

  Shaking his head, he returned his attention to Claire.

  "I can find someone to do it for you. If you give me your address, I'll call a couple of S.E. and find one who can help you."

  Immediately, Claire wanted to decline, fearing that he would end up calling Jonas. There weren't that many Special Enforcers in town. However, she needed someone to help her, and she didn't know whom else to ask.

  "I'm grateful for the offer,” she said slowly, weighing each word. “But I'm a bit afraid ... I mean, I regret inviting him in, but he didn't hurt me in any way. I've heard some Special Enforcers are a bit quick in staking vampires and that there are investigations going on ... I wouldn't want anything illegal to happen in my house."

  His features darkened. “I've heard those same rumors. Even if there's no evidence, this kind of allegation never surfaces without a truth to it, and those of us who take pride in our job don't want to have anything to do with people like that."

  Slowly, she nodded. “About that ... I was wondering, what kind of evidence would be used to prove that someone kills innocent vampires?"

  His expression showed his surprise at what she was asking, but he answered nonetheless. “Actually, the problem is that there rarely is undeniable proof. It's hard to prove someone has been murdered when there's no body left, just ashes. In a few cases, the police relied on an accumulation of circumstantial evidence. I've heard of videos being used as evidence, too, but...” His voice trailed off and his gaze sharpened as he detailed Claire's features. “Is it only rumors you've heard? Or do you know a S.E. who works overtime?"

  She gave him a half smile. “Even if I did, it doesn't do anyone any good if I can't prove it, does it?"

  "I guess not. Tesler has to be pretty careful, if the investigation didn't turn up anything."

  Claire blinked at that, her heart picking up speed. “I didn't mention any name,” she pointed out, her mouth suddenly very dry.

  "You're not denying it's him either. How did you find out about what he's up to?"

  Finally, someone believed her, and Claire felt grateful to him for that simple fact. “He keeps a notebook with how many vamps he kills, and his numbers are just too high. I told the police, but they said their investigation didn't turn up anything. I'm not even sure they believed me."

  "They must have, because they did investigate. From what I heard, they said it was just a routine check up, but I wondered if it was more than that. I never liked Tesler much. The way he talks about vampires...” He shook his head. “I'm sorry the investigation didn't find evidence against him, but it was a good thing you did, turning him in. At the very least, the police will keep a note in his file about this."

  Claire's smile widened a little. She hadn't realized until that instant how much she needed to hear that something good, as small as it may be, had come out of her visit to the police.

  "Now, about your vamp problem...” He turned his back on her for an instant, long enough to ask his girlfriend for a pad of paper that he handed to Claire when he got them. “Note down your address. I'll find you someone who doesn't play Tesler's games."

  She did as he asked, trusting that he would send a respectable Special Enforcer to help her, and handed the pad back to him. “Thank you."

  "No problem. I just wish I could do the job myself.” He checked the address, then looked back up at her again. “By nightfall, then, so the vamp can leave safely. Just don't enter the house until you have the S.E. with you, all right?"

  "I won't, and thanks again."

  With that, she left, aware that his gaze remained on her until she was in her car. It would be hours before sunset and she didn't know what she would do until then, but a second helping of that brownie and ice cream treat seemed very appealing suddenly.

  * * * *

  Claire returned to the house just as night was falling, dark clouds obscuring the sky and making it seem later than it truly was. When she pulled up in the driveway, she saw a silhouette emerge from a car parked in front of the house. It took her a few moments to recognize the familiar stature, not because she had forgotten him already, but rather because she could not believe Jonas would be there. He seemed to have a new car, something much sleeker than the old truck she had begged him to get rid of for years.

  Shaking herself into motion, she stepped out of her car, and winced as she inadvertently banged the door shut. She didn't want Jonas to think his presence affected her in any way, even if it did. He came toward her at once, hands deep in his jacket's pockets. He was letting this hair grow back from having a shaved skull for years, and the light fuzz made him seem younger, somehow. She hated that even after the way they had parted, she still thought he was attractive.

  "Hello, Jonas,” she said, as coolly as she could manage. “Anything I can help you with?"

  He remained perfectly still except for a slight twitch in his cheek.

  "I thought I was here to help you,” he replied on the same tone. “I've heard you have a pest infestation problem?"

  Claire's throat tightened. She had trusted Jordan when he had promised to send someone who didn't kill vampires on sight. He had seemed so sincere. Even now
, with the proof standing right in front of her, she could hardly believe he had lied to her.

  "I thought you worked on the east of the city,” she said, her tone hardening in her annoyance. “What happened to not wanting to work for people you knew?"

  His slight smile was infuriating. “You're not just someone I know. And it was a complete coincidence that I heard about your misadventure through the grapevine. Funny, really. One of my friends was contacted by another S.E. about doing some disinviting at my old address. He called me to know what that was about, and I said I'd take care of it for him. That's what friends are for, after all."

  He was smirking when he finished talking, and Claire knew, as clearly as she knew her own name, that it was anything but a coincidence that he was there. She would have bet that he had asked the Special Enforcers he was friendly with to keep an eye out for her name or address. It was just the kind of thing he was capable of doing. Before she could call him on it though, he turned his back on her and stepped toward the front door, taking his hands out of his pockets. He held a stake in one hand, and a vial in the other which Claire knew had to be filled with holy water.

  "Well, let's get to it, then. Is your ... guest still inside?"

  She had to bite her tongue not to tell Jonas to get lost and call for another Special Enforcer to come help her. But she had lived with a S.E. for eight years, and she knew that she wouldn't find anyone in at this time. They would be out and hunting vampires. If she wanted her home to be safe again that night, she would have to count on Jonas. In any case, she doubted he would leave now even if she asked him to.

  "He might be,” she answered as she walked over to the door and unlocked it. She paused before swinging it open and turned to look straight at Jonas. “He did not attack me,” she said with all the strength and determination she could muster. “So the stake—"

  Closing his hand over hers on the handle, Jonas twisted it and flung the door open. He pushed past Claire and walked in first, stake raised and ready to strike.

  "You're not trying to teach me my job, are you, Claire?” he threw over his shoulder without even looking at her. “Because I really don't give a damn about the opinion of someone who was stupid enough to invite a vampire in her home."