Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Dancing in the Dark - 9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9.
Jeremy’s eyes went really wide and he took a step back. Viktor immediately straightened from his defensive stance in front of me and began stammering out an apology.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I just saw you reaching for him and I just couldn’t stop myself, I’m not normally so . . . so . . . .” Viktor’s apology comes tumbling from his mouth and my jaw dropped. Why was he apologising? Vampires don’t apologise.
“Uh huh. Right,” said Jeremy. He looked past Viktor, who was still standing half in front of me, I think without even realising. “Am I actually seeing this Mark?”
I shook myself and snapped my mouth shut. I stepped around Viktor and looked up at him.
“Ok?” I asked, amused to see he was blushing. He gave me a nod and looked at the ground. Maybe I only thought vampires were arrogant and rude because those were the kind that usually had hired killers coming after them. But no, I’d seen that arrogance in him last night when we were talking about my hand healing. I shrugged and turned back to Jeremy.
“I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I kind of had a surprise kill and need to get rid of it. I’ll pay you double to get rid of it tonight.” Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up and he looked from me to Viktor and back again.
“Alright. I’m guessing that since the vamp here has obviously claimed you as a mate you won’t be hanging around after then,” I heard Viktor’s sharp intake of breath behind me but I ignored it.
“No. Wait, what do you know about mating bonds?”
“Not much, just that they exist,” Jeremy said and shut the door in my face. I could hear him walking off, presumably to go and get dressed. I turned back to Viktor.
He was glaring at me. I tilted my head up to look him in the eye. “What?” I asked.
“You’ve slept with him,” he said flatly. Ah, there’s the arrogance.
“I’ve been around for a long time Viktor. I’m not a virgin,” I said mildly. I watched as he visibly tried to regain his control.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, not really sounding sorry at all. But still, I was surprised to hear one from him at all. I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“It’s ok. You’re allowed to be jealous. But I’m yours now, and you’re mine, so we don’t need to worry about who we’ve slept with in the past, right?”
He bent his head down and kissed me. “I guess not,” he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding around me to pull me flush against his body. We stood there and made out like teenagers until Jeremy opened the door.
“Bye Emma,” I said quietly as Jeremy’s pigs snuffled at the pieces of her we had scattered in their feeding troughs. I looked up to see Viktor staring at me, puzzled.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Not once have you referred to her as the body. Most people refer to dead bodies as articles, but you keep on calling her Emma, like she’s still alive.”
I shrugged. “I took her life, Viktor. I don’t need to reduce her to an object as well.”
Jeremy snorted and walked off. I took Viktor’s hand and we followed him. He paused at the car, and I opened the back passenger side door and pulled a briefcase out from under the seat. Opening it, I took out several stacks of cash and then closed it again and slid it back under the seat. I handed the money to Jeremy and he gave me a long look before he turned and went back inside without saying anything else. I stared after him, but I didn’t say anything. We had been friends a long time, and it was sad to know that part of that friendship was ending.
***
“So where are we going now?”
I check the clock on the dash and then look at Viktor. He’s staring at me expectantly, probably thinking I have some kind of master plan to go and kill everyone who might pose a danger to us. To him.
“You don’t happen to remember where their secret headquarters are do you?” I ask hopefully.
“Ha, no,” Viktor says with a laugh and a shake of his head. His hair falls into his eyes, and when he doesn’t immediately flip it out of the way I reach over and brush it away so I can see his eyes. He smiles, and the warmth in that smile gives me butterflies in my stomach. I start the car and head back out to the highway.
“Well, I guess we probably have time to go and see Dr. Pierson. I’m hoping he’ll be able to lead us back to someone who can give us a better idea of the organization we’re up against. It’s weird though, the way they’ve set this up. I mean, I get why they tried to use you to kill me, but I don’t get why they used me to kill Sofia,” I muse.
“Sofia’s clever. She would have seen a government operation coming from a mile away,” Viktor observes.
“You knew her?” I ask, surprised.
“Mark, I’m one of the Historians. I know everyone,” he answers. I glance over at him with a frown.
“So why didn’t they rescue you then?” He shifts uncomfortably and looks out the window.
“I’ve never exactly endeared myself to anyone in that community,” he mumbles. I don’t say anything else, but I reach over and take his hand, twining our fingers together.
***
On the way back to the city I have Viktor call the hospital and find out if Pierson is working tonight. He is, so we go straight to the hospital to track him down. I contemplate getting the ER nurses to page him, but if he figures out who we are before we get to him he’ll probably run, so instead I walk around the hospital like I know where I’m going, Viktor trailing in my wake, until we find him.
He’s with a bunch of tired and grumpy looking interns in a room exactly the same as the one from which I retrieved Viktor, except this one has two sleeping patients in it. We stand by the door and wait until he notices us. When he does he goes sheet white.
The interns are apparently so bored that when he tells them to take a break for ten minutes they scatter, even though it’s probably highly irregular. They don’t even glance at us on their way out of the room.
“Wha-What are you doing here?” Dr. Pierson moves so that the bed of one of the patients is in between us. I allow him the illusion of his safety.
“Shouldn’t your question be ‘why aren’t you dead’?” I ask sweetly.
“S-sure,” he says uncertainly. I think he’s about to wet himself.
“Well, I’m not dead because I can’t die,” I tell him. He doesn’t seem to know what to make of this and just stares at us. I tilt my head, and Viktor takes that as an invitation to go around the bed in one of those lightning fast movements that got my bathroom clean in record time.
He comes to a stop behind the doctor and grabs him, one arm across his chest, and a hand in his hair to wrench his head sideways and expose the line of his neck. Viktor looks at me and winks, which reassures me that he won’t bite the doctor. Not that I think that Pierson doesn’t deserve it, but the thought of Viktor biting anyone but me makes kind of queasy.
Pierson yelped a little when Viktor grabbed him, and I let my nasty smile spread over my face. “I want to know where you get your orders from,” I say slowly, “but I’m really, really hoping you don’t want to tell me.”
Dr. Pierson struggles a little, and Viktor tightens his hold until the struggling stops. Pierson whimpers a little when Viktor ghosts his lips over his neck, looking at me the whole time.
“Special Agent Dane Rogers, part of the Supernatural Containment Program, he has an office downtown,” Pierson finally says in a rush. I have to admit, I’m kind of disappointed it was that easy. Viktor releases him and rips a piece of paper from the chart at the end of the bed.
“Write down the address,” he growls. Pierson scribbles down the address in a shaky hand and gives it to Viktor. We walk out of the room and make our way quickly back to the car. It’s almost sunrise, and we need to get out of here to somewhere it will be safe for Viktor to pass out before the doctor can call someone to come after us.
- 9
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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