Awakened (35 page)

As for now, the cleanup of Club Red was continuing. There were two disinfectant-drenched body bags awaiting transport on gurneys. Ambulances came and went. FBI town cars pulled up and took off.

Nick refused to go to a hospital. Some joker pointed out that no hospital would want him. For now, Nick lay on an uncomfortable cot, covered in a space blanket, and stared up at the clouds drifting across the dawn sky.

He thought of everything that had happened.

He thought of Gary.

And as much as that still hurt, it felt pretty good to be alive.

But he wanted Barrett.

Barrett sat on a makeshift bench with Jane folded in her arms, noting that the girl hadn’t cried, not once. She was strong, maybe too strong, and Barrett wondered if the death of her mother had forever taken away her ability to experience the lighter side of life. Was that why she’d been drawn to that fang banger Dante? Had she sought that darkness out, and would she continue to do so now given everything she’d been through?

She caught a glimpse of Nick sitting on a cot, talking to an older man in fatigues and aviator sunglasses. High rank, by his stance. The man looked over Nick’s shoulder in Barrett’s direction.

A catastrophe had been averted. The aftermath was a letdown. The clipboard people showed up and took over. Barrett was exhausted, too, but she’d stay with Jane as long as she was needed.

Someone had provided Jane fresh clothes, including a belt to hold up pants that were too baggy for her. Which was what the kids were wearing anyway, Barrett thought with a flicker of weary amusement. She’d been given a set of clean scrubs after someone took her gown away for microscopic examination of the bloodstains and DNA sampling.

Jane shifted, lifting her head from Barrett’s shoulder and pushing back her hair.

“You okay?” Barrett asked.

Jane hesitated then nodded. “I think I will be.”

“Do you—do you want to talk about Dante? About what happened to him?”

Her expression went blank. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.” She looked away. Looked back at Barrett. “He fought the guys who grabbed me. Even though he was … you know … he was a good guy.”

Barrett nodded. “I’m glad you knew him. He died doing a noble thing.”

“People judged him because he was into vampires.”

“Yes,” she said.

“I—I don’t want to be like that, but … there are more vampires, aren’t there? More … like
him
.”

“Like him, yes. But also some that aren’t. I’m friends with a few.”

Jane’s eyes rounded. “Friends?”

“Monsters come in all shapes and forms and races. And sometimes they aren’t always monsters. That’s what makes spotting the true monsters so difficult.” She squeezed Jane’s hand. “That’s why when we have people who care about us, we need to stick together.”

Jane’s mouth tightened and she withdrew her hand. “You didn’t stick by me. You disappeared and I—I needed you.” The tears Jane had refused to shed now dampened her eyes and Barrett felt her own tears welling.

“I’m sorry, Jane. I know it’s no excuse, but I had my own stuff I was dealing with. My brother died. Then your mom. Then I was in the army … But you’re right. I shouldn’t have lost touch with you. If you give me another chance, I promise I won’t lose touch again. Do you think you can give me that?”

Again, that slight hesitation. This time Barrett held her breath. She released it when Jane nodded. “I think I can. After all, you saved me. You saw me on that camera and you came after me. You brought Nick. And I don’t think you would have stopped until you found me.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Barrett confirmed.

Jane swiped at her eyes, clearly embarrassed by her show of emotion, “So now what? Are you heading back to D.C.? Nick told me you live there.”

“Yes, eventually. But we need to decide about you. I know you’ve had problems with your uncle—”

“He’s—he’s dead,” Jane said quickly.

Barrett’s eyes rounded in shock. “What? But who …” She paused. Thought about it. “Mansfield?”

Jane nodded. “That’s what he claimed anyway. And I don’t even know if I want it to be true. All I know is … I want Ginny.”

“I already had someone call her. I was told she was on her way.”

Jane’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Good. That’s good.”

“You’ll talk to someone? About everything that’s happened? It doesn’t have to be me but …”

Jane nodded. “I’ll talk to someone. And if I need to … if I want to … can I call you?”

“Anytime. I hope you’ll call me often.”

For the first time since they’d seen each other again, Jane smiled, and her smile was beautiful, just as her mother’s had been.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Jane looked suddenly alert. “There’s Ginny.” She got up, waving to the older woman at the wheel of an approaching car. Ginny’s drawn face brightened when she saw Jane. She parked her car, got out, and spoke to an FBI agent. Jane turned to Barrett. “I want to see you again, sometime soon. I know you and my mother were really good friends.”

“We were. I’m very grateful I had her in my life—I just wish we’d had more time. But you don’t always get what you wish for.”

“I did. I’m free.”

“Yes. Stay safe. And I would really like to stay in touch. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I will.” Jane gave her another smile and hugged Barrett tightly before walking away. Kevin had brought Aura to the parking lot. Barrett watched the wild-haired dog sniff at the cars and indicate vampire scent on several.

A tow truck rumbled through.

Aura’s pup, Ray, was making the rounds, too, with a handler Barrett didn’t know. He sat and indicated a police cruiser, wagging his tail.

Barrett smiled when she saw Nick, also smiling, walking toward her. “He’s a rookie,” he called. “But he’s getting the hang of it.”

He took Aura’s leash from Kevin and the two of them trotted over to the bench. “You look like you need to hug a dog,” Nick said. “Got a good one for you.”

Aura gave Barrett a golden-eyed stare, then peered over her shoulder at Kevin, anxious to get back to work. Nick let go of her leash and the dog ran back to him.

“It’s okay. I’d rather have a hug from a good man. An amazingly good man.”

“You left out the part about me being a fighter and a lover.”

“That, too.” Barrett nestled into his shoulder as Nick wrapped an arm around her. “Just tell me that it’s really over. I sort of don’t believe it.”

“It’s over. Try not to think about it too much right now. I got you.” He held her for a long time.

EPILOGUE

Several months later …

“Get up, angel.” A strong hand caressed Barrett’s hip
, swooping down over her waist and up against her ribs. Which Nick tickled.

“Stop it.” She burrowed back into the pillows and blankets, kicking backward at him. The masculine body curled around hers didn’t budge.

“No. I want some coffee, Barrett. You owe me. I saved your life.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to get up right here and now.”

“Yes you do,” he insisted. “I set up the filter and filled it with fresh ground coffee last night. So all you have to do is get up and press the button on the coffeemaker. Just once.”

“No deal,” she said into her pillow, laughing. “Not even once.”

“Okay. Then how about you press the button for, oh, the next seventy years. That would be twenty-five thousand nine hundred and fifteen times or so.”

“You figured that out before you said it. Way before. Why?”

“I like doing multiplication in the morning.”

That wasn’t all he liked doing in the morning. Barrett grinned secretly at the feel of the delicious hardness bumping against the small of her back.

“Really.” She turned her head to look at him. He tousled her messy hair even worse. “Just what the—”

“Don’t say that word. Unless you want me to make your dreams come true.” His hand slipped down between her thighs.

She grabbed it and shoved it away, turning her back to him again. He captured her hand by the wrist.

“All it takes is one finger to push a button,” he whispered in her ear. “I choose this one.”

Barrett felt something warm and round slide over her fourth finger, left hand. A marquise diamond in a plain platinum setting blazed with morning light when she sat bolt upright to stare at it.

“Nick? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I love you. So say yes, goddamn it.”

She rolled over on top of him, kissing his face, his neck, his chest … it got better. The two of them had always known how.

After a while they were one. Coming together. That was the best.
Then
she said yes. Several times.

For Craig. Love you, baby. For always and forever.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to my friends and family who boost me up not
only in my writing journey but in life. Most of all, thank you to my fans, including Crystal Blood, who is always such a huge support. Thank you also to Miranda Grissom for all your help. You rock! As always, much love to my boys, Craig, Joshua, Ethan, and Zachary. A film deal someday would be great, but I have everything I need in all of you. Love you bunches!

BY VIRNA DEPAUL

Turned
Awakened

A Vampire’s Salvation
Arrested by Love

Find out more about the Belladonna Agency in Virna DePaul’s first book in the series
TURNED

Seattle, Washington
A few weeks later …

Back in the Bronx, Eliana Maria Garcia’s weapons of choice
had been a smart mouth, the occasional threat of a knife, and her fists. Now, standing with her back pressed against the brick wall behind Monk’s Café, Ana Martin had something even better—a gun. One she was hoping she wouldn’t have to use.

Confronting the man who’d been following her, however, was unavoidable. She’d noticed him at the bank yesterday, then the market. But last night she’d seen him outside her house. And moments before? Across the street.

That was one coincidence too many. She’d left Primos Sangre over seven years ago, but if there was one thing the gang had taught her, it was that survival meant confronting danger head-on rather than running from it. Since she didn’t trust the cops—didn’t trust anyone—her only choice was to handle this herself. Her way.

If only she wasn’t so scared. But she’d put her old life behind her, and even though she wasn’t happy—could never be happy without her sister—she was often content. Sometimes when she looked in the mirror she even managed to like the person she saw looking back at her. The thought of losing that scared her more than any threat of physical harm ever could. And it scared her enough that she was willing to fight to make sure it didn’t happen.

The sun had set long ago. Now and then a stab of light from a passing car pierced the shadows of the alley where Ana was hiding, forcing her to dodge back. Invisible, shrouded in darkness, she waited. When she heard footsteps, she knew it was him.

Forcing her near-numb fingers to tighten their grip on the gun, she watched as he walked past her, then made her move, coming at him from behind, pressing the barrel of her gun against the back of his head.

He didn’t even jerk.

From the back, he looked big. Broad. Muscles rippling. Dangerous.

But from the front? Even from a distance, he’d looked more than dangerous. He’d looked deadly. Beyond handsome. Midnight hair and eyes just as dark. Savage and sophisticated at the same time. She’d never seen his equal. Certainly never met anyone that came close.

Part of her knew she’d gotten the drop on him a bit too easily. That perhaps she was doing exactly what he’d been expecting. Hoping.

But it was too late to go back now.

“Hands where I can see them,” she managed to get out.

Slowly, he raised his hands in surrender. Only she still wasn’t buying it. Her nerves screamed at her to run, but logic kept her feet planted firmly on the ground. Somehow, she knew if she ran, he’d only come after her.

“Why are you following me?”

No answer. No surprise.

With her free hand, she patted him down, the way she’d learned to do in the gang. By the time she’d frisked him from the back, she was the one who was sweating. And not from exertion.

Nothing about him was small. He was tall and buff, more than big enough to overpower her slight frame. Sangre-style paranoia set in, and it occurred to her that this guy might be undercover. She instantly recalled the run-ins she’d had with cops as a teenager. The way they’d often pulled her long dark ponytail, hard enough to make her back arch and breasts lift. The way they’d sometimes copped a feel or implied they’d leave her in peace if she made it worth their while. She’d never given them that satisfaction.

But no, she decided. This guy’s vibe was just too different. Not so much cop as outlaw.

His entire body was contoured with interesting ridges and bulges and planes. This close she could smell him, a subtle spicy scent that managed to convey unabashed maleness and warmth despite what seemed to be a rather low body temperature. The man held himself in control. Unlike her. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the rush of heat to her cheeks and moved faster to disguise the telltale trembling of her hands.

“Turn around,” she commanded.

Slowly, he did.

Despite the heat in his gaze, his mouth was tipped into a mocking smile, as if he knew how affected she was by touching him. What he didn’t know—
couldn’t
know—was how confused she was by her reaction. He made her feel … restless. Edgy. Vulnerable.

She hated it.

As such, she hated
him
.

Methodically, she frisked him from the front, delving between his denim-clad legs to make sure he wasn’t packing more than nature had provided.