Tall, Dark, and Vampire

“I knew you were a sucker.” She arched an eyebrow and wagged a well-manicured finger in his direction. “See. You’re really a cat in dog’s clothing, aren’t you?”

The dog licked his lips and growled. Olivia shook her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you just rolled your eyes at me.”

Olivia strode to the stainless steel door at the center the far wall and hit the red button on the panel to the left. A gentle whirring sound filled the room as the door slid into the wall and revealed her other closet. She didn’t want to go back to being a sentry, but that didn’t mean she would leave herself or her coven unprotected. An armed vampire was a smart vampire… and one less likely to get dusted.

“I swore I wouldn’t do it again,” she said quietly.

Olivia breathed deeply as she stepped into the dark cavernous space, and her nostrils filled with the musky scent of leather and the pungent smell of silver as lights flickered on overhead. Memories of her days as a sentry flooded her with surprising clarity. Instead of allowing them to weaken her, she struggled to remember the strength, pride, and power she felt when she first worked for the Presidium.

The left wall was covered with ninja stars, knives, swords, chains, and small, easily concealed weapons. All the weapons were made with sterling silver and could cut through a vampire with laser precision. Simply getting scraped by silver burned like hell, but getting cut by it could kill, especially if it got into the bloodstream.

The right side was filled with guns of various sizes, but instead of a shoe rack, she had an ammo rack that ran floor to ceiling. She hated to admit it, but the ammo wall turned her on, even more than the shoe wall.

Along the back of the closet, opposite the entrance, hung various versions of her sentry uniform. Olivia pulled on the stretch leather catsuit and zipped it with ease. It molded to her body like a second skin, and she couldn’t believe how comfortable it felt after all these years. Not only would it provide camouflage in the dark of night, it would also provide protection from the silver weapons she carried.

The tall boots and leather gloves covered her as easily as the rest, but when she pulled on the long leather duster coat, she felt as if she’d stepped back in time. She wasn’t Olivia Hollingsworth, business owner and respected citizen. She was an executioner, and if you got in her way, her face was the last image you’d see before the world went silent.

But only for tonight.

Clipping the ammo belt around her waist, she immediately stocked up. She grabbed two black Berettas, along with several clips of ammunition, and slipped them into the harness, but of course, it wasn’t regular ammo. These clips contained silver-coated wooden bullets that could not only incapacitate a vamp, but a direct shot to the heart or the head turned them to dust. She strategically placed several silver stars and knives in the lining of her jacket with a couple sheathed inside the top of her boots.

She required one last piece to complete the familiar ensemble and her traveling armory. Olivia went to the black box that rested on a high shelf directly above the row of uniforms. She carefully removed the box from its resting place, lifted the lid, and pulled the leather-handled, sterling dagger from its bed of purple satin.

She held it up and admired the sleek, deadly blade. It had the word eternity engraved down the center of the blade on one side and her name on the other. When a sentry was sworn in to their first tour of duty, they were given the Dagger of Eternity as a symbol of their rank among the Presidium.

Olivia secured the dagger in the sheath on her ammo belt and put the case back with the same care she used to remove it. She may not be a sentry anymore, but she still had respect for the position.

Suited and armed, Olivia gave Van a quick pat on the head and snagged a hair elastic off her dresser. All black was great for blending in with the night, but bright red hair didn’t exactly blend. Olivia made quick work of tying her hair back in a long braid. Satisfied her curls were tamed, she headed out of her apartment.

“Take good care of Oreo while I’m gone, big guy,” she called over her shoulder.

A familiar sound filled the air. Her gloved hand hovered over the doorknob of her apartment as Vincent’s distinct presence rippled around her with the power of an elder—and her maker.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Now, now.” His singsong teasing came clearly through the closed door. “Is that any way to speak about your maker?”

Olivia rolled her eyes, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door for the man who had turned her into a vampire three hundred years ago.

“Well, what have we here?” He raised his salt-and-pepper eyebrows, as he looked her up and down in her full sentry regalia. He removed his hat and placed it under his arm as he gave her the once over. “Decided to play the game again, my dear?”

“Hello, Vincent,” Olivia said wearily. Ignoring his comment, she stepped back and gestured for him to come in.

Vincent swept into the room with all the regality someone would expect from looking at him. Between the long steel-gray topcoat and the hat and cane, there was no mistaking how uptight and formal he was. He surveyed the apartment with the same look he gave her—disapproval. To top it off, Van Helsing came racing out of the bedroom, growling at Vincent as if he’d never met him. Luckily, the kitten didn’t appear, which would only have given Vincent more fuel for his fire. He detested animals.

Vincent glared at Van Helsing. “I suggest you call off that mutt before I break his neck.”

“Van.” Olivia snapped her fingers, and the dog sat at her feet. He stopped growling but still looked at Vincent like he wanted to bite his balls off. She wasn’t sure why Van didn’t like Vincent. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she said in the most pleasant tone she could muster. “I can’t believe you came to New York. I didn’t even realize that you were back in the States until you messaged me.”

Vincent hated New York City. He detested America and rarely came across the pond in the last century, especially without more advance notice. The guy expected a fucking parade in his honor every time he came to visit.

Vincent sat in the overstuffed leather chair, crossed his long legs, and placed his hat in his lap. “It seems that you are having trouble managing your coven,” he said quietly, while he rolled the handle of his cane between his fingers.

Olivia didn’t sit, and if she wasn’t in the mood to be cordial before that comment, now she really wasn’t. She closed the door and stood in front of it with her arms crossed over her chest, trying to stop herself from telling Vincent to fuck off.

She was his progeny but had been on her own for the last two centuries, and the last thing she needed was Vincent butting into her business, her life, or her coven. Tension settled in her neck, but she managed to keep a civil tongue.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said a bit too sweetly.

“Must we play these games, Olivia?” he said wearily. “I know about the mess your little blond vampire has made. She was turned five years ago, and as you know, she is still your responsibility. Therefore, her mess is yours, and since you are my progeny,” he said, baring his fangs, “it is now mine as well. And you know how I loathe messes.”

Anger and resentment flared hard and fast, but Olivia held her ground. She kept her sharp eyes on him and let him continue.

“Imagine my disappointment to have my holiday ruined.” He smoothed back his dark hair that grayed in patches at his temples. He was distinguished, regal, and a snob. “I had planned on having a pleasant visit, yet it seems that is out of the question. My first stop was to the Presidium so I could pay my respects to the czar and his senators. Sadly, my visit turned into a reprimand from Augustus. He informed me that Maya killed a human and left a messy situation for the police to deal with.” He made a tsking sound. “Quite unfortunate.”

“What are you talking about?” Dread crawled up Olivia’s back. She wasn’t sure how Augustus found out, but that didn’t really matter. All that mattered was protecting Maya and the rest of her coven. “Maya didn’t kill that guy. Yes, I will admit that she fed on him and played with him all day, but she didn’t kill him. They only found trace amounts of Maya’s DNA, and according to Millicent, the prominent DNA in the wounds was from an unregistered vampire.”

“Not according to Augustus,” he said darkly.