Accidentally Married To a Vampire(27)

So now, in retrospect, he knew the Demilord's speech about coming for Niccolo's soul was a lie. But the other part about fucking his woman? He wants Helena for himself. I must kill him. But how?

Rumor had it that no Demilord had ever been killed by a vampire; they were a hardy breed. But Niccolo was well trained. He could take him; he knew he could. Helena would just need to be out of the way.

Viktor smiled. "Are you sure she's worth it? The queen will have your head if she finds out you're picking a fight with the gods' guard dogs."

Niccolo looked out the window toward the glowing horizon. "I'm sure."





Chapter 12





Andrus glanced in the rear view mirror at Helena curled up on the backseat. God, he was tired. This was the longest he'd ever gone-two weeks without sleep and a proper meal. Yes, he was immortal and part vampire, but his body functioned best with natural foods. Easy, convenient energy, such as Snickers and Poprocks-his favorites-could only take an angry warrior so far.

He glanced at his watch. The sun would be rising in twenty minutes. He'd drive all day to put distance between them and The Executioner. Then, he'd find somewhere safe to stop and sleep for just a few hours before driving the rest of the way. No doubt the world's most deadly vampire and his guards were right behind them. Andrus, like all Demilords, knew Niccolo and his men were a force to be reckoned with. He'd never have a chance fighting so many well-trained warriors at once. Especially since Andrus' abilities were hunting, not being hunted-a tiny detail he failed to share with Helena. He had already summoned backup, but they were dispersed around the globe and would take a day or two to meet up with them.

Heading southwest, eyes fixed to the rain sleeked road, he leaned to his right and grabbed another Snickers from the glove box. Just two more days, and they'd be there. He'd send a message to Niccolo, and Reyna would finally be his. Perhaps after three hundred years, he'd finally see an emotion touch her eyes. Terror. Yes, even the cold-hearted queen would feel that when he took her head.





***





Helena sensed the faint hum of an engine as her mind slipped out of a deep sleep. If it weren't for the discomfort of a seat belt digging into the top of her head, she might have slept another day. She wiggled her toes and lethargically sat up.

"Good morning, Helena," Andrus said in a groggy, deep voice. "Or, should I say afternoon?"

"What's good about it? I feel like the world just sat on my head and kicked me in the stomach."

Andrus did not respond.

"Hey, are you okay." She leaned between the driver and passenger seats to look at him. His eyes were glued to the road, but his lids were at half-mast.

"I am … tired."

Helena noticed the pile of candy bar wrappers on the floor of the passenger side. "I hope Demilords have a good health plan."

"I only wish I could get sick, then maybe I'd die."

"Jeez. Morbid enough?"

"Sorry," he said. "I'm tired. That's all." His eyelids notched down another fraction of an inch.

"When's the last time you slept?"

"Two weeks ago."

Lord love a duck! Even Niccolo slept daily, and he was tough as nails. "Pull over, let me drive."

Andrus shot daggers with one glance. "No."

"Oh, I get it. Only big strong men know how to drive a Hummer?"

"What car do you drive, California girl? Wait. Let me guess. A convertible VW or a Prius."

Ha, was he going to feel stupid! She was one of the lucky ones who commuted less than five miles each way to school. So when Ann's brother wanted to sell his truck for the bargain price of two Gs, she pounced.                       
       
           



       

"A 1974 Bronco."

Andrus' head swiveled. "Windsor V8?"

"What else?" Helena loved that frigging gas-guzzler. The hard top was a bear to put on in the winter, but in the summer, that truck was a little slice of heaven. She felt strong and free riding that beast down the highway along the coast.

"Fine." Andrus pulled off at the next exit into the gas station.





***





As soon as Helena topped off the tank and hit the freeway, Andrus was sawing logs in the backseat. For her, the seat had been spacious, but for a man his size, he looked like a bear crammed in a shoebox. As soon as she found a good spot, she'd pull over and rent a room so he could stretch out. In all honesty, she could use a hot shower and bed herself. Helena flicked on the radio and picked an oldies station. The Beach Boys came on, and it suddenly reminded her of the night Niccolo saved her.

She changed the station. She didn't want to think about him; she wanted to think about going back to her old life with her mom and friends.

But they're moving on with their lives. Shouldn't you?

She'd spoken to Jess and Ann just last week. They'd already moved away to start their careers. Her other friends had gone off to get their doctorates. What was she really going back to? Just a place with lots of memories of surfing at sunset and running on the beach.

What about your mom? She's still there.

But even her mom had her own life now that Helena was grown. Helena hadn't really left anything behind in Santa Cruz.

Well, there's your career. You had to give that up.

Actually, Niccolo never said she'd have to give it up, only that she wouldn't have to worry about money.

So that just left the question of what was behind door number three? What would her world be like if she had to live as a vampire? She knew it was a must if she wanted Niccolo; otherwise their relationship would always be about him trying not to hurt her. They'd never be intimate either. Total deal-breaker. But could she handle living in his dark world? It seemed so violent and cruel.

He said things would be better after your transformation. Don't you trust him? He saved your life.

Yes, she did. But he didn't trust her. That hadn't changed. He also said he didn't love her and never could. That mattered.

But so does the fact you want him. And … with time, he might learn to love. Look how long it took you. It was true; Helena had never tried to open her heart to anyone until Niccolo came along.

Helena glanced at Andrus through the rear view mirror. His head was propped against the door, arms crossed against his chest. God-oops-gods, he was beautiful. His thick dark brown hair swirled in random spikes, his dark lashes fanned out along the slit of his closed eyes. His lips had a slight fullness to them, making him appear as though he was puckering for a kiss.

Helena shook her head. He's still not Niccolo.

There was also something about Andrus she didn't trust. Maybe that dark cloud following him? Whatever it was, she still couldn't resist wanting to help him. He was in pain, alone. She could relate.





Chapter 13





"Crap!" Andrus sat up in the backseat of the vacant Hummer. It was parked in an empty lot behind a motel under a shedding tree. Yellow and brown leaves covered the windshield along with a light sprinkle of rain.

He jumped out and scanned the area. Where the hell was Helena? There was no trace of her smell. The rain had washed it away. Could she have gone to the hotel?

He charged toward the side of the building and found the entrance to the reception. A young woman with short strawberry blond hair stood behind the counter. The moment she looked up her smile melted away.

"May I help you?" she asked with a shaky voice.

Andrus leaned over the counter, his height and size easily bringing him a foot from the woman's face. "I am traveling with a young woman. She has shoulder-length, blond hair. Where is she?"

The woman smiled nervously. She handed him a small envelope with a card key. "The young woman was just here and asked me to direct you to your room."

Andrus let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Where the hell are we?"

Confused, she answered, "Amarillo, Texas."

He nodded and turned toward the elevator.

"But," the clerk added, her voice barely a whisper, "she also asked me to tell you that she'd gone for food."

"Where?"

The woman backed away from the counter and pointed across the street.





***





Seriously? Is this the only place to get food? What a nasty dive, Helena thought as she pulled open the stainless steel door of the roadside bar.

The parking lot was littered with Harleys, beat up trucks, and, well … litter. The building was worn and nondescript except for a crooked, washed out sign over the entrance that read Bar.                       
       
           



       

As soon as she opened the second set of doors, her heart stopped and so did every leather-clad man in the cesspool. Every face-unshaven, bearded, or just plain dirty-swiveled towards her.

The inside mirrored the outside decorum: floors and walls painted black, no windows, and one neglected pool table in the corner.

Not exactly an Opentable.com establishment, is it? Neither open, nor any tables.

Helena's eyes migrated to the only splash of color and light in the entire establishment: a giant neon rainbow over the cash register behind the bar. Lynyrd Skynyrd's Free Bird played on the jukebox.