Friday, August 24, 2007

Chapter Twenty

Mac stood from the bed, dragging the sheet with her, having only just realized that Jon must have undressed her when he put her to bed the night before. He had at least left her some modesty, having left her bra and panties in place. She wrapped the sheet around her body, tucking a corner in at her breast. She stood beside the bed glaring down at Jon.

Jon reached out to Mac’s mind. Mac, I’m begging you. Don’t start this argument in front of him.

Why not? she demanded. Even the voice in her head was sharp and angry.

Because, then you’d be proving him right, and I’d never hear the end of it, he tried to joke with her to lighten the mood.

About? she asked, raising one eyebrow.

He warned me you would be pissed.

Richie stood by quietly watching the silent exchange between the two combatants. He saw the slight smile on Jon’s face that still echoed remorse. And, if he had thought Mac’s glares were glacial before coming from green eyes, they were downright bone, tissue, and blood freezing now coming from icy blue ones. Richie knew the two were talking silently to each other, probably discussing him. "I’m still here, ya know," he pointed out.

"We know," Jon and Mac announced at the same time, never taking their eyes off each other. One voice furiously low, the other almost sounding patient.

Jon winced when Mac gave him an almost evil smile. It was just a slight lifting of the corners of her lovely lips, but there was an almost maniacal glint in her eyes, when she turned to Richie. She marched across the room and snatched the Dr. Pepper from his hand. "You were right," she told the guitarist, as she stormed past him into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Richie couldn’t help himself; he almost doubled over with laughter. "Aw, come on, Mac," he called out to her, "that wasn’t even close to a conniption."

"Shut up, Sambora," Jon ordered, heatedly. "And not one more word, or I swear, I will rip your throat out and suck you dry."

The guitarist only laughed harder as he walked over to sit on his bed, setting the styrofoam cups of coffee on the night stand between the two beds. He sat down facing Jon, but fell back on the bed laughing, holding his stomach as his guffaws shook his large frame. "Oh, Jon, this is priceless," he managed to get out between barks of laughter.

"Sambora," Jon said in a warning tone.

"I’m sorry," Richie said, laughter still booming, and not sounding contrite at all, "but damn, it’s gonna be fun watching you dig yourself outta this one."

Jon bit back his normal comeback, and said instead, "Go fuck yourself, Rich," before flopping over on his back and throwing one arm over his head. He was shocked when Mac’s angry voice sounded in his head.

Where the hell are my clothes, Bon Jovi?

They were bloodied and torn, Mac, he answered back, I threw them away.

Well, Einstein, I can’t go around in my underwear, she quipped furiously, you better come up with something.

Moglie mia, please, let’s discuss this calmly and rationally like adults, he tried to reason with her.

Don’t start that ‘my wife’ shit with me, Bon Jovi, she threw back at him, furiously, get me some damn clothes!

I wasn’t talking about the clothes situation, he stated calmly.

I’m not talking about anything else ‘til I get some damn clothes, she growled, then she was gone from his mind.

"Damn it," he grumbled aloud, as he rolled from the bed. He pulled on his jeans, then swiped his T-shirt up from the floor as he headed toward the bathroom door. Jon tried the knob when he reached the door, but it was locked. He only frowned as he opened the door with his mind and thrust the shirt through the crack. "Here, you can put this on for now. I’ll be back in a few minutes with something less revealing."

Richie watched as Jon marched back across the motel room and reached for the door knob. "Uh, Jon," Richie said.

Angrily, the singer spun around to glare at him. "What?" he demanded furiously.

Richie looked pointedly at Jon’s bare chest and feet in answer.

"Shit," Jon swore, before marching over to his bag and pulling out a fresh shirt and socks.

After he was properly clothed, Jon stormed out of the room, grabbing his baseball cap and sunglasses off the table by the door on his way out with Richie’s laughter echoing in his ears.

It never ceased to amaze Jon the variety of items you could find in a convenience store. He walked into the one across the street from the motel and pulled the bill of his baseball cap down a little farther. Toward the back of the store he found a rack of souvenir T-shirts and other clothes. He grabbed a shirt and a pair of jogging pants that looked to be about the right size. At the counter, he saw a rack of sunglasses and realized that was something else she would need when they left the motel. He laid two pair on the counter. "I’ll need these too," he told the clerk.

The clerk told him how much it would be, and Jon paid him quickly, then hurried back to the motel. He really hoped Richie had finally quit laughing, otherwise he just might kill him.

Jon walked back into the motel room and didn’t even bother to glance in Richie’s direction. At the bathroom door, he once again opened it on his own and stuck the bag of clothes through the crack. "Here," he said. His voice was curt. As welcoming as the bed looked, he decided on pacing. Pacing was good. He could expend some restless energy before they went to the airport for the flight back to Vegas.

Richie’s voice didn’t stop his pacing. "You should calm down," the guitarist advised, "try to remember you’re the one in the wrong here."

"I’m not in the wrong. I did what I had to do to save her," he said angrily, spinning on his heel to answer his friend.

Mac had just finished dressing and walked back into the room. She gasped in indignation. "You didn’t do it to save me," she responded angrily, "you did it to save yourself!"

Richie took in the clothes Jon had bought for her. He almost started laughing again, obviously Jon hadn’t bought too many women’s clothes before. Mac stood there in a pair of jogging pants that almost swallowed her whole; she had the drawstring cinched so tight that even with them tied in a bow the strings hung almost to her knees, and the ‘Don’t Mess With Texas’ T-shirt was almost too small. It was tight across her ample breasts and just barely reached the waistband of the pants. He looked pointedly at the T-shirt’s slogan. "How prophetic," he said softly, then burst into uproarious laughter, once again falling back on the bed.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Chapter Nineteen

With the third blood exchange over, Jon told Richie they should try to get some sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep a wink until Mac regained consciousness. He watched Richie get settled into the other bed, then laid down with Mac, cradling her gently in his arms. Jon was worried about how much pain she was dealing with while she was out of it. Rubbing his cheek against her hair, he slipped into her mind. A wave of her pain hit him immediately, but he refused to pull away from it, hoping instead to help alleviate some of it.

Moglie mia, can you hear me? he asked softly.

Even the voice in her head was weak, when she answered, It hurts, Jon.

I know, bambina, he told her gently, but listen to me closely, I’m going to tell you how to make it ease up some.

Jon didn’t tell her that she had new powers as a newly changed vampire, but he began to explain to her how to use her mind to divide the pain and explained that he would shoulder the worst of it on himself, that he could do it as long as their minds were joined.

Just don’t break the link, Dallas, he cautioned, because then you’ll be hit with the full force of it again.

Jon, don’t do this, she told him, it hurts too bad. I can’t imagine even putting part of it off on you.

I can handle it, moglie mia, Jon replied, besides, I can’t bear for you to go through this alone.

Am I dying then? she asked.

No, bambina, he told her, you are healing.

Where am I?

We are in a motel in El Paso
, he answered.

Where’s Caleb?

I don’t know, he replied, wincing slightly when he took the bigger part of her pain into himself. When I left him he was injured, but I came running when you called out to me.

Mac felt her pain lessen immediately. It’s working, Jon.

Of course it is, bambina, he told her, gritting his teeth against the pain. Now rest, if you can, he ordered gently. You’ll be fine in the morning.

Holding her close, he laid there for a long time as her dreams played like movies in his head courtesy of the link. He saw all the gruesome details of the accident as she relived them in her dreams, as well as the events that had unfolded while Caleb had her. He now knew that she had intended to re-enter that warehouse and try to help him, and he smiled in spite of the pain at her courage. She was certainly one of a kind. He could see the light in her that would balance his darkness in years to come. Now, if only they could survive this latest problem. And, he didn’t try to deceive himself, there would be a problem over this latest turn of events, but he knew in his heart that somehow they would get past it. That she would forgive him. At least, he hoped she’d forgive him.

Shouldering the biggest part of her pain for several hours, Jon lay there unable to sleep. When the sun finally rose, the pain was gone, and he knew that she was entirely healed and the change was complete. He dozed off to sleep then, knowing he would need a few hours of sleep to be able to deal with the explosion of Mac’s temper that was surely coming.

Richie’s concerned voice woke him a couple of hours later. "How’s she doing?"

Jon barely cracked his eyes in acknowledgment of Richie’s question. "She’s fine."

"Glad to hear it," Richie told him. "I was heading out for coffee. I’ll be back in a few."

"Could you get her a Dr. Pepper?" Jon asked.

"Sure," Richie answered, as the door closed behind him. The guitarist really didn’t want to be anywhere around when Mac woke up and realized what Jon had done.

When Richie was gone, Jon pulled Mac tighter against him. "Mac, wake up tesoro mia."

Jon watched as groggily she rubbed at her eyes and stretched. Raising up on one elbow, he bent slightly to gently kiss her forehead, "How’re you feeling?" he asked huskily.

"Surprisingly, I feel great," she answered, opening her eyes. "You’d never know I got hit by a car last night."

Jon looked down into her light blue eyes, so like his own and realized he would miss those turbulent green eyes. That was something he hadn’t thought about before he made the quick decision to change her.

"What is it, Jon?" she asked, when she noticed the sadness in his eyes.

"Nothing of importance," he answered her.

She accepted that answer for now, but later she would find out what was bothering him. "I really expected to either be dead or wake up in a hospital this morning," she told him.

"Richie suggested a hospital," he replied, "but I knew we didn’t have time to get you to one."

Her stomach twisted in response to that statement. She had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly what he meant by that, but she had to ask anyway. "Jon, what do you mean by ‘didn’t have time’?"

"When our minds were linked, I could feel your spirit and energy drifting away," he answered.

"Are you saying that I was dying?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Yeah," he replied softly.

"What did you do, Jon?" she questioned, although she was afraid she already knew the answer.

Jon looked into her eyes and saw the knowledge there. "You know what I did," he answered softly.

"No," she said harshly, "you knew I didn’t want to be a vampire."

Richie walked back into the room with coffee cups in hand, and a cold Dr. Pepper from the soda machine. The room was charged with tension and he almost turned back around and left again.

"I brought caffeine," he announced. Then after seeing the regret on his friend’s face and the fury on Mac’s, he asked, "So, is it conniption time, now?"

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Chapter Eighteen

Jon found Richie gently holding Mac’s head in his lap. He didn’t realize that silent tears ran down his face when he took her from his friend. Jon sat on his knees on the sidewalk with Mac’s upper body held gently in his arms, rocking her like a baby.

"I’m here, Mac," he whispered to her, as he pushed her hair back out of her face. "Heal yourself so we can get outta here."

Her eyelids fluttered open. "I can’t," she gasped, trying hard not to whimper in pain. "It’s too bad."

"You said you could heal yourself," Jon pointed out tearfully, "so do it damn it."

"Minor wounds, Jon," she reminded him, "these are anything but minor."

Jon didn’t like how raspy and shaky her voice sounded. He hated seeing his Mac broken and ready to give up.

"Don’t you dare leave me," he ordered.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, as she lost her battle with the darkness and drifted peacefully into unconsciousness.

"Mac," Jon said loudly, but she didn’t respond.

"Jon," Richie tried to be the voice of reason, even though he was feeling anything but reasonable, "we need to get help. Get her a doctor."

"There’s no time, Rich," Jon said, his voice dripping with pain. "She wouldn’t make it to a hospital. She reached out to me, she was so weak she couldn’t maintain the link."

"We’ve gotta at least try," Richie argued.

"Mac," Jon tried again, "moglie mia, please open your eyes again. I have to talk to you." He wanted her permission for what he was about to do, but whether he got it or not, he had to do it. "I won’t lose her. I refuse to let her go like this."

"What are you going to do?" Richie asked.

"Keep an eye out and warn me if anyone comes," Jon told him, as his fangs lengthened. He quickly rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. So upset about the possibility of losing her, Jon didn’t even feel the pain as his fangs sank into the tender skin of his wrist, puncturing the vein there. Tenderly, he put his wrist to her mouth. "Drink, tesoro mia. Please," he whispered in her ear, and then reached out to her mind repeating the request in her head, hoping that one way or the other she would hear him. Gently, he stroked her throat, encouraging her to swallow.

When he thought she had swallowed enough, he pulled his wrist from her mouth. A ragged piece of Richie’s T-shirt was thrust in his face.

"Here, tie it around your wrist," Richie offered.

Quickly, Jon tied off the make shift bandage and bent his head to Mac’s neck. He knew she couldn’t afford to lose anymore blood, but he had to take some. Three blood exchanges were necessary to change her, so that he wouldn’t lose her. Jon only sipped for a few seconds before lifting his golden head. "We gotta get her back to the motel," he announced to Richie.

"I’ll be right back," Richie assured him. Then promptly disappeared.

Jon sat holding her in his arms, hoping he hadn’t been too late, that she hadn’t been too far gone. Silently, he prayed he had done the right thing and that she wouldn’t be too angry over his decision, but he couldn’t just sit by and let her die in his arms.

When a small red four door car pulled up at the curb and Richie jumped out, Jon didn’t even question his friend about how he’d gotten them a car. He just gently picked her up and sat down in the back seat with her in his lap, and Richie closed the door he’d been holding open.

Richie was silent all the way back to the motel, but Jon continually whispered encouragement and endearments to Mac until they were pulling up in front of the place they had chosen when they first arrived in town. Jon had chosen the roadside motel for the ability to come and go from their room from the parking lot; the inconspicuous aspect of the place had appealed to him and the situation they were in; it certainly had nothing to do with the accommodations. It was nothing fancy, but then he and Richie had stayed in far worse back in the early days of the band.

Richie helped Jon get Mac settled into one of the room’s queen size beds, before announcing, "Okay, I gotta get the car back, but I’ll get a taxi back here. Will you two be okay until I get back?"

"I hope so," Jon replied, gravely.

"Jon," Richie began, "you did do what I think you did, didn’t you?"

"Do you think you could be a little more confusing?" Jon asked grinning.

"You changed her, didn’t you?" the guitarist accused.

"Not yet," Jon answered, "but I got the process started. It’ll take two more blood exchanges before the turn will be complete."

"But, Jon," Richie frowned, "she didn’t want to be a vampire."

"I will not lose her," Jon said, harshly.

Richie shrugged; he knew when not to argue with his friend, but somehow he knew there were going to be problems over this. "I’ll be back in a bit," he told Jon, as he left.

Jon paced the small room, continually looking at Mac lying deathly still in the bed. All he knew about a change was that it required three blood exchanges and that there was a lot of pain involved for the vampire-to-be. But, with as much pain as Mac had to already be in, he didn’t think she’d even notice, and at least this way with the change taking place her body would be able to heal itself.

Richie had been gone for over an hour when Jon removed the bandage on his wrist and reopened the wounds with his fangs. Once again, he encouraged an unconscious Mac to drink, then sipped from her jugular. He took it as a good sign that his previous bite had already healed itself, and she didn’t seem quite as pale as she had when they had arrived at the motel.
Jon had just gotten up from Mac’s bedside when there was a soft knock at the door, and Richie’s scent drifted to him. Without even stopping his pacing, he opened the door with his mind.

"How’s she doing?" Richie asked immediately.

"I think she’s doing better, but she still hasn’t woke up," Jon replied. He stopped pacing and ran his fingers through his already windblown hair.

"I’m not too sure this was a good idea, Kidd," Richie told him.

"Don’t you think I’m aware there will be hell to pay over this?" Jon asked, frustration in every word. "I know she’s going to be upset," he added softly.

"Oh," Richie paused, "I think upset is quite an understatement. I’m sure the phrase ‘conniption fit’ will apply."

"I’m sure," Jon replied.

"What happened with Caleb?" Richie finally asked the question he was dying for an answer to.

"I don’t know," Jon answered.

"What do you mean, you don’t know?"

"I hit him with a desk, then Mac called out to me," Jon told him, "I ran out to her. I’m sure he got away. He’s injured, but like me, he’ll heal quickly."

"He’ll be back then," Richie replied, nodding.

"If he’s that stupid, I’ll be waiting on him," Jon said menacingly.

After glancing at his watch, Jon walked over to sit next to Mac on the bed. Richie watched as his friend once again gave Mac blood and then drank from her neck. Every one of Jon’s actions dripped tenderness and love. The guitarist only hoped that Mac would realize how much Jon cared about her before she blew her top.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Chapter Seventeen

After discovering the diner wasn’t the saloon from 130 years ago, Jon and Richie had been walking down the sidewalk, while Jon talked to Mac. Jon hadn’t been paying much attention to where he was going, and more than once, Richie had had to steer him around passing pedestrians. Jon suddenly stopped, having gotten the warning of a vampire in the immediate vicinity.

"Caleb’s in there," he told Richie, pointing at the warehouse in question.

The two of them quickly found a way inside.

"Rich," Jon said, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder when Richie started in the door, "wait out here."

"I will not let you go in there to fight him alone," Richie argued.

"I can’t fight him and worry about you and Mac," Jon explained. "Wait here. I’ll send Mac out to you. Get her to safety, please. I’ll deal with Caleb."

"Okay," Richie answered, resigned. Every fiber in his being objected to allowing his friend to walk into danger alone and unaided, but he knew in his head that Jon was right.

"Just stay out of sight until you see Mac," Jon cautioned, as he entered the darkness of the warehouse.

At first, silence was all that greeted him, but then he heard Caleb and Mac arguing. He hurried toward the sound with every ounce of speed his powers gave him. He wasn’t sure why Caleb hadn’t felt the same warning he had felt, when the other vamp turned toward him with a comical look of surprise on his face, but at this moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

"You bitch," Caleb turned to scream at Mac, "you distracted me and I didn’t even feel the warning that he was close."

"That’s witch, not bitch," Mac corrected snidely.

Caleb drew back his arm to strike her, but before he could land the blow, Jon flew across the room and punched the other vamp. Caleb fell backwards onto cardboard boxes that collapsed under his weight.

Without turning his back on his adversary, Jon used his mind to untie Mac. As soon as she was free, she flung herself into his arms. Keeping one eye on Caleb, Jon looked down at Mac’s face. His thumb brushed her bottom lip, wiping away the small trickle of blood from the cut.

"I’m glad you’re here," Mac told him softly, her gaze never leaving his face as he slipped his thumb into his mouth to taste her blood.

He pulled her tightly to him. Sighing softly in pleasure as her soft curves molded themselves to the hard planes of his body. Jon kissed her lightly on her forehead, before saying softly, "Go outside, Mac. Richie’s waiting to take you away from here." Gently, he pushed her behind him and toward the door, immediately regretting the action that took her from his arms.

"I won’t leave you," she told him, her chin tilting in defiance, even though he was no longer able to see her. His gaze was still firmly resting on the vampire that was even now rising from the floor.

"Please go, Mac," he said over his shoulder. "I need to know that you’re safe."

Mac hurried away from the coming storm. Her intention was to get Richie and return to help Jon any way she could. She knew she could stay out of the way and at least attempt to weave spells that would help Jon.

"She’s gone," Caleb said unnecessarily as he stood facing Jon. "I wasn’t going to hurt her, ya know."

"So you say now," Jon told him angrily.

"I’m not a heartless bastard, Giovanni," Caleb defended, "I know she’s innocent in this. But you, that’s entirely different. How could you do it? How could you stake Toby? We trusted you; he trusted you. You were our only true friend. The only one that accepted how we felt about each other."

"But you weren’t his life-mate Caleb," Jon said softly, as the two began to circle each other. "You weren’t the other half of his soul, the light to his darkness." Jon sidestepped the chair Mac had been tied to. "And that’s what he needed. He’d gone rogue, Caleb. The bloodlust had taken over. Toby was killing innocents. He sacrificed his soul for the power of taking lives."

"No," Caleb screamed in denial. "I would’ve known if...", he paused and Jon could see the doubt that clouded his face, before he lunged toward Jon. Caleb’s fingers curled into claws as he dove for Jon’s throat.

Jon waited until Caleb was almost on him, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Just as the other vampire’s fingers reached his neck, he grabbed Caleb’s wrists and shifted his weight, tossing the other vamp over his shoulder to land with a dull thud. Jon used the time it took Caleb to recover from the fall to pull a long, wicked looking knife from the scabbard attached to his ankle.

When Caleb finally regained his feet, Jon lunged for him. Caleb threw himself backward to avoid the sharp blade, but gained a deep slash across his abdomen for his efforts.

"I don’t want to have to kill you, Caleb," Jon said softly. He kept his eyes on the other vamp warily, even as he circled for another attack. "I understand why you took Mac, I can forgive that since no real harm was done. Her wounds are probably already healed, that’s one of her powers."

Caleb had circled around to the chair. Quickly, he picked it up and swung it furiously at Jon’s head. At the last second, Jon ducked, but the legs of the chair struck his shoulder hard enough to send the pieces of the chair scattering across the floor and knocking the knife from his hand. He heard it skitter across the room, as he fell against the only remaining piece of furniture in the room, a battered old desk.

Angrily, Jon shoved himself away from the desk, lightening seeming to flash in his eyes. His roar, the accompanying clap of thunder, as he flung the desk across the room with the force of his mind. It slammed into Caleb, throwing the vampire into the wall behind him. The force with which he hit the wall breaking ribs and forcing the breath from his lungs.


********************


It had taken Mac longer than she wanted to find the way out of the warehouse, but once she ran out the door, Richie stepped out of the shadows across the street and called out to her. Thinking only of getting Richie to go back into the warehouse, she started across the street. Richie’s scream of warning was drowned out by the screeching of tires.

Richie watched in horror as Mac struck the hood of the car, rolling up over the windshield before hitting the pavement with a sickening thud as the car sped off into the night. Mac landed partially on the curb at Richie’s feet; her mangled legs still laying in the street.


Kneeling beside her, Richie pulled her into his lap. "Mac," he said worriedly, "Mac, can you hear me?"

Mac heard him through a cloud of pain, but his voice wasn’t the one she wanted to hear. Knowing she couldn’t hold on much longer, she reached out to the one person she needed. Jon?

Jon froze when Mac’s voice rang in his head. She was weak and in a lot of pain; he knew something was terribly wrong. Moglie mia, what’s happened?

I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, she whispered weakly, before the link between them was broken.

This time, Jon roared in pain. Leaving Caleb behind, he ran out of the building to find Mac. He reached out to her as he ran, but all he could feel was her pain. Jon realized he was losing her; he could feel her energy drifting away. Hold on, tesoro mia, I’m coming, he told her, not even sure she heard him.


Chapter Sixteen

"Oh come on," Richie groaned, "doesn’t anything look familiar?"

They had been walking around downtown El Paso for the last two hours. Jon had explained to Richie that 130 years ago the town was a lot smaller, but it was nestled along the banks of the Rio Grande. The town had grown a lot through the years, but only in three directions. The river dividing the United States from neighboring Mexico had cut off the expansion of the town in that direction. The historic portion of the town that lay along the river was where the two men were searching. Jon was trying to find the exact location he had staked Toby, knowing that was where he would find Caleb and Mac. But, the town had changed a lot in the last 130 years; the only landmark that remained that Jon recognized was the Rio Grande.

Jon pointed at the river in question. "Yeah, that looks familiar. A hell of a lot dirtier, but it’s in the same place." He watched as the guitarist kicked at a pile of sand with his expensive, yet terribly worn, boot. "I don’t know, that sand looks really familiar," he added with a dose of sarcasm.

"Only because we’ve been walking around in it for two hours," Richie quipped. "We could use some help."

"And just who do you suppose we could call?" Jon asked sarcastically. "The police? Oh yeah, I can hear that conversation in my head now." He held his hand with just his thumb and pinky extended, and held it to his face like it was a phone. "Yeah, officer, this demented vampire kidnapped my life-mate and is using her for bait so that I’ll come after her and he can stake me. Yes, officer, I’m a vampire too." He took his hand down from his face and glared at Richie. "How well do you think that’s gonna go over?"

"Fuck you, Kidd," Richie answered, heatedly.

"What’s that you always say? Oh, yeah, you keep asking, and I keep having to tell ya no," Jon responded laughing, glad he could finally turn the tables on his friend.

"All right, smart ass. Let’s start at the beginning, one more time," Richie suggested. "Maybe, we’ll find a clue in what happened 130 years ago."

"I tracked Toby to El Paso. Billy saw me ride into town and followed me in a saloon. We talked for a while, and he asked me what I was doing in El Paso. I told him that I was looking for an old friend and described Toby to him. Billy told me that Toby had been hanging out at the saloon across the street and warned me to be careful that a wild animal had been lurking around town and had attacked and killed a few men and one of the saloon girls. That the wolf or whatever had ripped out their throats. I knew it was Toby but didn’t tell Billy that. He never knew what I was." The two men continued walking as Jon spoke softly to Richie. "I found Toby right where Billy said he’d be. I didn’t pull any punches. I told him why I was there, and we went out the back door of the saloon to fight it out. He didn’t act in any way like he was afraid of me. In fact, he acted resigned to the fact that I was there to kill him. Almost like he welcomed it. He didn’t put up much of a fight. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Rich. Toby was my friend."

"How far away from the saloon were you when the fight started?" Richie asked.

"Several yards," Jon answered, "we left the circle of light the lantern by the back door created. And didn’t want any humans to walk up on our fight. I staked him, but didn’t leave his body there. I took him off into the desert and burned his body."

"And you’re sure that Caleb wouldn’t be where you burned Toby?"

"Nobody but me could’ve ever known where that was," Jon answered. "But Caleb could’ve easily found out that I left that saloon with Toby."

"Then we aren’t looking for where you staked Toby," Richie replied, grinning because he’d figured it all out. "We’re just looking for the saloon."

Jon held his arms out with his palms up. "Look around you, Rich. Do you see any damn saloons?" he asked sarcastically.

Looking around at the industrial area they stood in, Richie didn’t see anything but a bunch of warehouses and a little greasy spoon diner. He jerked his head toward the diner. "Do you suppose?"

"No," Jon answered. "Wrong side of the street."

They continued walking toward the diner though. Then Jon’s face lit up. "But that might be where Billy found me that night."


********************


Still gagged and with hands tied behind her back and to a chair, Mac sat in a warehouse somewhere in El Paso, watching Caleb pace the floor. Every few minutes he would stop and stare at her. It was a look that she couldn’t quite define, but it most certainly wasn’t anger or hatred.

Finally, he stopped long enough to speak to her. "I don’t wanna hurt ya," he told her calmly. "I only want Giovanni ta pay fer what he did."

Mac raised one eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Jon’s affectation and practically growled at him through the gag. She began to pull at the ropes, slamming her back against the chair repeatedly. The chair bounced loudly on the floor.

"Stop that!" he yelled. "I meant it. I ain’t gonna kill ya. You’ll walk outta here fine as rain when he gets here."

She continued her efforts to get free, until Caleb stomped across the floor and slapped her across the face. Hard. Mac felt the skin of her bottom lip break and tasted blood but couldn’t spit it out because of the gag. She slumped in the chair, but she glared at him above the gag. Her eyes were glacial.

Caleb continued talking, as if his violent outburst never happened. "Although, I should. Giovanni kilt the love of my life. I should let ‘im watch you die before I stake ‘im." At Mac’s continued silence and cold glare, he continued, "but I know you’re innocent in all of this. Hell, ya weren’t even born yet when he committed his crime."

Mac felt Jon join her in her mind. Mac, he said softly, are you okay?

Now’s not a good time, rock star, she told him.

Caleb walked over to her and bent down to look in her eyes, taking her chin in a tight grip he turned her head from side to side. "You’re a purty one. Giovanni’ll come for ya."

Now’s a perfect time, Dallas, Jon’s voice echoed through her mind. Where are you, moglie mia?

I’m not sure I want to tell you that, she answered. He’s waiting on you, Jon.

I know that, Mac, he replied quickly, and so are you.

Caleb slapped her again. "Pay attention when I’m talking to you, girl!" he yelled.

Jon felt Mac’s pain immediately, and she heard his angry roar in her head. Did he hit you? he raged.

Trying to calm him, she answered, No, I’m fine.

Don’t lie to me, Mac, Jon ordered angrily.

"Nod your head, girl," Caleb growled. "Do ya promise not ta scream if I take the gag off?"

Mac nodded her head.

What are you telling him yes to? Jon asked her.

I promised I wouldn’t scream if he took the gag off, Mac answered.

You better scream your head off, Mac.

I will not! she told him adamantly. But I am going to start rhyming shit on his ass! I’ve been savin’ shit up.

Mac, NO, Jon commanded.

But, Mac didn’t listen. As soon as the gag was removed, she chanted, "Every time you hurt me, you will feel my pain times three."

Jon stood by helplessly, knowing she would only be provoking Caleb.

"What’d ya say girl?" Caleb asked.

"Doesn’t matter if ya heard me or not," she answered frostily. "I said it out loud, that’s all that matters."

"Tell me," he demanded, furiously.

"NO!" she yelled back at him.

He slapped her again, and Mac almost laughed at the comical look of surprise that he gave her as he grabbed the side of his face. "OW," he yelled. "What’d ya do to me, girl?"

Mac’s frosty glare was his only answer.

Do you know what you’ve done? Jon asked her, his tone sharp.

Before she could answer him, Caleb back handed her hard enough the chair tipped backwards. She ignored Jon’s corresponding furious roar in her head as the chair tilted dangerously before she leaned forward, pulling against the ropes to keep from falling on the floor. She sighed in relief when all four legs were resting squarely on the floor. Then she looked up at Caleb standing glaring down at her, holding his face in obvious pain. "That’s what ya get, ya bully," she told him, coldly. "Ya ever hear the phrase, this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you?" she asked, grinning. "In your case it would certainly apply."

"What’d ya do?" he asked.

"You shouldn’t have messed with a tenth generation witch," she told him, holding her head proudly.

"A witch?" he asked, incredulous.

"That’s what I said," she answered.

Shut up, Mac, Jon ordered. Don’t give him any more information.

Don’t you dare tell me to ‘shut up’, she replied furiously.

Mac, please don’t provoke him, Jon pleaded. It kills me when he hurts you and I can’t do anything about it.

I bet he’ll think twice before he hits me again, she told him smugly.

Where are you, tesoro mia? he asked again.

In what looks like an old warehouse, she answered, but I don’t know how we got here. He didn’t take the blindfold off ‘til we were inside.

"Why’re ya ignorin’ me?" Caleb demanded.

"I’m not ignoring you," she told him. Geez, how was she supposed to carry on a conversation with both of them?

I heard that, Jon answered huskily. I miss you, Mac. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Reach out, if you need me.

I will, Jon, she told him softly. And, I miss you too.

Mac felt him go and suddenly felt unexplainably bereft.

"I told ya to uncast that spell," Caleb ordered.

"I will not," Mac replied, with a defiant tilt to her chin. "Besides, how’re you gonna make me?"

"Why, I oughta..." he growled, stomping toward her with his fist raised.

"Uh uh uh," she interrupted grinning. "I wouldn’t if I were you, unless of course you wanna hurt way worse than me."

Caleb only glared at her for several seconds, then he finally said, "Giovanni can’t get here quick ‘nough to suit me."

"Careful what you wish for, Caleb," a softly furious voice said from the doorway.

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Chapter Fifteen

Jon had walked for a while. He had intended to leave the strip. It always amazed him how you didn’t have to go far from the lights of the casinos on the strip to find yourself surrounded by nothing but desert. The desert, in his mind, was a perfectly private place to end this. He didn’t make it though before his cell phone started ringing in his pocket. He glanced at the little window and flipped it open.

"Now’s not a good time, Rich," he said into the phone.

"It’s the best fucking time in the world, Jon, trust me," Richie told him anxiously. "There was a vampire named Caleb here, and he left with Mac."

"Fuck!" Jon exclaimed, then after a brief pause, "I’ll be right there, Rich."

Angrily, Jon flipped his cell phone closed. What the fuck had he been thinking to go off and leave her alone and vulnerable? Caleb was going to pay for this. Jon hurried back the way he had come. The sun was setting, but it wasn’t dark enough yet for him to fly back to the hotel. As bad as he wanted to get back there and find out what happened, he wasn’t willing to risk someone seeing a man flying above the Las Vegas strip.

When he arrived back at the hotel, Richie was waiting for him in his room. Richie quickly told him what had happened, ending with, "And you shoulda seen her Jon when he tried to use mind control on her. She knew what he was doing and told him ‘it didn’t work for Jon and it won’t work for you, so go fuck yourself’."

"How did he get her to go with him quietly?" Jon asked.

"That’s my fault," Richie said, guiltily, "he told her if she didn’t, he’d kill me. Jon, I tried to stop him, but..."

Jon interrupted him, "There wasn’t anything you could do, Rich. A vampire is ten times stronger than a human. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you."

"Still, I feel like I let ya down, bro," Richie told him.

"You were the message," Jon replied, softly, "so what did he say? Where did he take her?"

"When I asked him, all he said was ‘Toby’. He said you’d know what that meant."

"Yeah, I know," Jon answered. "Fuck," he said loudly, before he put his fist through the wall he’d been standing next to. Jon stormed into his bedroom and began to throw things in a bag.

Richie followed him. "What does it mean, Jon?"

"It means, I’m going to El Paso," Jon answered.

"Holy shit," Richie breathed, "Toby is the vampire you killed there over a hundred years ago, right?"

"Yeah," the singer replied.

"Damn, you vampires sure hold a grudge a long time," Richie told him. "I guess Caleb was a friend of Toby’s."

"They were more than friends," Jon informed him, "they were lovers."

"Whoa," Richie said in surprise, "that would mean....," he left the sentence dangling in mid-air.

"Yeah, they were gay," Jon told him, dryly, as he zipped up the bag. "That’s why I’m so damn concerned about what he’ll do to Mac. I killed his lover...," Jon couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought out loud.

"I’m sure he’s not going to hurt her," Richie tried to reassure him. "I mean, hell, if he was going to do that, he coulda just done it here."

"But then he might not’ve been able to get me," Jon replied, "this way, she’s the bait to get me where he wants me, and then once he stakes me, he’ll kill her."

"Jon, you can’t just walk into a situation, knowing it’s a trap," Richie told him.

"That’s why I have the upper hand. I know it’s a trap," Jon explained, as he grabbed the bag and walked back into the sitting room. He angrily threw himself down on the sofa. "Be quiet a few minutes," he ordered.

Jon leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. Silently, he reached out to Mac. Once he was in her head, he could feel the fear that she couldn’t hide from him. It was almost his undoing. It’s why he had put off linking up with her like this, because he knew what her fear would do to him.

Moglie mia, are you all right?

Yeah, she answered weakly.

Jon could tell she was trying to hide her fear from him. Where are you, tesoro mia?

I don’t know, Jon, she told him, I’m blindfolded, but I think I’m in the backseat of a car. My hands are tied, and he gagged me. She gave him a little laugh. I guess that’s what I get for threatening to scream my head off.

And perhaps, telling him to go fuck himself wasn’t any help, he told her, smiling.

You’re probably right, she answered.

I’m so proud of the way you stood up to him, Jon said. Don’t worry, Mac, I’m coming to get you.

Do you know where he’s taking me? she asked him.

Yeah, ragazza mia, I know. He’s had a grudge against me for a long time and it all started in El Paso. That’s where he’s taking you.

You’re sure? she asked him, He told Richie ‘Toby’. What does that mean?

Toby was a vamp I staked, and the reason Caleb hates me so much, he informed her. He didn’t want to tell her about the relationship between the two vampires and make her fear any worse. Lord knew, his was bad enough for both of them.

Knowing that with their minds linked she wasn’t hiding anything from him, she finally admitted, I’m scared, Jon.

I know, Bambina, he said huskily, but know this, I won’t rest until you’re back in my arms. I will come for you.

That’s what he’s counting on, Jon, she said, her fear suddenly stronger, don’t walk into a trap for me.

I can’t do anything less, Bambina, he told her. He withdrew from her mind then, before she could try to dissuade him.

He sat there for several minutes with his eyes closed. Jon was grateful for Richie’s continued silence, while he worked everything out in his head. Jon realized for the first time that he loved Mac. He wasn’t sure how she had taken control of his heart so quickly, but he wasn’t going to question it anymore. The thought of anything happening to her hurt him so badly, it was almost a physical ache. He knew it wasn’t just the knowledge that if anything happened to her he might as well let Kristoff use the stake now rather than later, once he’d gone insane with bloodlust. He knew he’d want to be staked rather than go on without her in his life.

How had this happened? Better yet, when had this happened? He wanted to tell her, but what if she didn’t feel the same way? Could he live with that? Could he live with the fact that she didn’t want to be a vampire? So many questions. No answers.

He opened his eyes, and realized Richie had left. That was odd. His friend usually had his back in every situation, even if it was just metaphorically. Where had Richie gone?

Slowly, Jon stood up and picked up his bag, heading for the door with grim determination. He would go to El Paso, kill Caleb, and bring back his life mate. He’d work out the answers for those questions later.

He opened the door, and was not as surprised as he should’ve been. Richie stood there with bag in hand.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he asked the guitarist.

"I’m going with you," Richie informed him. "You might need my occasional flashes of brilliance."

********************


A car was waiting on the street to take Jon and Richie to the airport. There was a minor delay while the pilot filed a flight plan, but soon they were in the air. Richie had been watching Jon for several minutes as he sat in silence staring out the window. The look in his friends eyes could only be described as cold fury, but really it went beyond that. Even a wordsmith of Richie’s caliber couldn’t find the words to accurately depict the emotion exactly, but the guitarist certainly didn’t want to be in Caleb’s shoes when Jon finally got his hands on him. The ironic thing was Jon seemed calm. Too calm.

Richie knew that Jon was like that often mentioned perfect calm that came before the storm. When the air was so still that not even a blade of grass twitched. It’s when the feeling of approaching doom is so heavy in the atmosphere that the hair on the back of your neck and on your arms stands up at perfect attention. When it’s so silent, that the first crack of thunder and flash of lightening makes you jump out of your skin, even though you knew it was coming. The guitarist was sure that he would jump when the lightening finally struck.

"She’ll be fine, ya know," he tried to reassure Jon.

"Of course she will. I won’t accept anything less," Jon answered, his gaze never wavering from the window.

"Maybe you should talk to her again, give her some reassurance," Richie suggested.

"I don’t know, Rich," Jon replied, finally looking at his friend, "I can feel her fear when I link up with her. It’s just too much; it makes me want to kill someone."

"Have you told her yet?"

"Told her what?" Jon asked, puzzled.

"That you love her," Richie answered, grinning.

"No."

"You should," the guitarist told him.

"Rich, I’m not in the mood to deal with your wise jackass persona," Jon told him, smiling to lessen the blow.

"But I thought of all my multiple personalities that one was your favorite?"

"I’ll plea the fifth," Jon grinned.

Richie thought his friend had been about to laugh. That’s what he’d been aiming for, hoping to lighten the mood a little. As a mere human, he didn’t think he’d be much help to Jon in the coming confrontation, but he had hoped to at least keep Jon from getting all dark and depressed.

Jon interrupted his thoughts, "I guess...maybe...you’re right. I should check on her."

Richie grabbed his chest in mock surprise. "Did ya hear that, Elizabeth? I think it’s the big one. I’m coming to join ya, honey," Richie laughed.

"Don’t let it go to your head," Jon joked, before closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat.

He reached out for Mac. How are you holdin’ up, Bambina? he asked her.

Oh, I’m just peachy, she answered with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Jon had expected fear, not this emotion that was bordering on anger. I’m on my way, tesoro mia. Please don’t be angry.

I can’t help it, Jon, she replied, this guy’s startin’ to really piss me off.

I was afraid you were angry at me, he told her.

Now why would I be angry at you? she asked.

This is all my fault, he answered.

Oh, so you’re the one that drug me outta my hotel room, tied me up, gagged me and blindfolded me, and is now takin’ me God-only-knows-where in a fuckin’ helicopter?

I told you where he’s taking you, Mac, he reminded her.

Yeah, well, what if you’re wrong? she asked.

I’m not, he answered. Are you okay, ragazza mia? Has he hurt you?

Only my pride, she replied, but let me tell you one thing, if this son-of-a-bitch ever takes this blindfold and gag off, I’m fixin’ to start rhyming shit on his ass. He won’t know what hit him.

Jon panicked, afraid that if she provoked Caleb, he would seriously hurt her. Bambina, I beg you, don’t do something that will make him angry enough to hurt you.

Jon, if you think I’m gonna just sit on my hands and wait for you to rescue me, you’re sadly mistaken, she informed him.

Jon knew it was useless to argue with her. You said you were in a helicopter?

Well, it’s not like I can see it, but it sounds like a helicopter, she answered. Can’t you hear it?

No, moglie mia, I can’t. I can only feel what you feel and hear what you think, he told her.

What good is this link, then? she asked.

He didn’t know how to answer her. Right now, it might not seem like much, but it’s all they had.

I heard that, she answered softly.

I don’t know about you, but I’m happy just to hear your voice and know that you’re okay, he told her. And, isn’t it reassuring to know that I’m on my way to you?

I would know that without the link, Jon, she told him.

He was happy that she had that much faith in him.

Of course, I have faith in you, she told him, besides I know that you know I’d kick your ass if you didn’t come get me.

He laughed out loud. Bambina, stay safe. I’ll see you soon.

Don’t go yet, Jon, she pleaded. Finally, he felt her fear.

Bambina, I’m not going anywhere, he told her. All you have to do is reach out, and I’ll be there.

Promise?

I promise, tesoro mia, he answered. Just reach out for me, if you need me.

Okay, she replied, you can go now, then. If you answer one question for me.

Anything, Mac.

What does moglie mia mean? she asked.

Once again, Jon laughed out loud. It means, my wife, he told her. Leave it to you to ask about that now, when I can’t not give you the answer.

Yeah, she answered sheepishly, I figured ya’d answer now.

Reach out for me, Mac, he told her before he withdrew from her mind.

"It’s nice to hear you laughing," Richie told him.

"She’s such a spit fire," Jon replied. "Mac’s promising that she’s gonna ‘bewitch’ Caleb, if he ever takes of the blindfold and gag."

"Somehow, I bet that’s not how she put it," Richie laughed.

"Actually, no," Jon said, beaming with pride, "what she actually said was that she was going to start ‘rhyming shit on his ass’."

"I hope not. She really shouldn’t provoke him," the guitarist replied.

"That’s what I told her." Jon shook his head. "But, she refuses to just ‘sit on her hands and wait on me to rescue her’."

"Is that a direct quote?" Richie asked.

"Yeah, didn’t it sound like one?"

"It most certainly sounded like Mac," Richie answered. "Do you have a plan?"

"The beginning of one," Jon replied, and began to tell the guitarist all about it.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Chapter Fourteen

The two-night, sold out shows in San Francisco went well. The crowds for both shows were excited and really into it, but Jon had felt the other vampire’s presence strongly, not only at the venue, but at the hotel as well. Jon realized the other vampire was stalking him and just wished he would go ahead and make his move already.

The American leg of the tour was almost over. They were supposed to do another two-night gig in Los Angeles and then a final show in Las Vegas, then have a month off before the European leg began. The morning after the final show in San Francisco, Jon received a phone call from the LA promoter. There had been a malfunction with the sprinkler system at the venue. So, unless the guys wanted to perform standing knee deep in water, the shows were going to have to be cancelled and rescheduled. Jon told the promoter he understood and to reschedule with the record label. He didn’t like cancelling a show and disappointing the fans, but there wasn’t anything else that could be done. Jon informed the other band members and the pilot that they would be flying on to Vegas.

Something told him that it wasn’t just a malfunction with the sprinkler system. His gut told him someone had sabotaged the thing, and he was pretty sure he knew who. The other vamp wanted Jon in Vegas. Never one to back down from a challenge, Jon was ready to meet the predator and get this over with.

When the jet landed in Vegas, Jon was the first to step off the plane. That familiar warning passed through him. "Bring it on, Asshole," he said softly, menacingly, right before his band mates and Mac joined him on the tarmac.

Once they were checked in at the hotel, Jon quietly left his suite wearing a baseball cap and his sunglasses for what little bit of anonymity they offered. In the lobby, he was hit with the warning again. Good. Let the vampire follow him, he wanted to get on with it. Jon left the hotel without his bodyguard. The guy was really just for show anyway, to keep fans at bay. As a vampire, it wasn’t like Jon actually needed the guy for protection. Besides, this was personal.
Unfortunately, the other vampire didn’t see Jon. He had felt the same warning, but had been getting on the elevator when Jon was stepping out of the other one. Jon left the hotel unaware that the other vamp wasn’t following, and just assumed he was staying far enough away to avoid the warning being received.


********************

Upstairs, in her suite, Mac was getting settled into the new place. Jon had left the door open between their suites. She heard the knock on the door to his room and wasn’t going to answer, but she heard Richie call out.

Opening the door, she told the guitarist, "Hey Rich, Jon’s not here."

"Oh, went out for a meal, did he?" Richie asked.

"Probably, but he didn’t say where he was goin’," she answered. "Come on in. I’m sure he won’t be gone long."

Richie walked in, intending to wait for his friend. "Yeah, here lately, feeding hasn’t taken as long as it used to," he told her, smiling.

Mac didn’t miss the insinuation in Richie’s statement. She realized he meant that before she had come into the picture, sex and feeding went hand in hand, but that now, all Jon wanted from the women he fed from was a blood donation. She motioned toward the sofa. "Go ahead and have a seat," she offered, "I was just unpacking a few things."

Before Richie could sit down, there was another knock on the door. He looked at Mac. "Expecting someone?"

"Nope," she answered.

"I’ll get it," Richie told her, even as he started for the door.

When Richie opened the door, he was surprised to see a stranger standing there. The man was a few inches shorter than Richie, with dark hair. But the fact that caught Richie’s attention right before the man pushed him back several feet was that his eyes were the same pale blue as Jon’s.

The vampire stepped calmly into the room and slammed the door. Seeing the door to Mac’s suite standing open, he used his mind and slammed it as well.

Mac eyed the stranger warily, briefly she thought about her charmed dime laying on the dresser in her suite. "Jon’s not here," she told the other vampire, as Richie stood glaring at him.

"I know that," the vamp replied cooly, "but I’m sure he’ll be comin’ back soon. He’s not goin’ ta leave his life mate for long."

Mac gasped in surprise. She hadn’t realized this vampire knew who she was. "Who are you?" she asked.

"The name’s Caleb," he answered, with a slight Texas drawl. "I’ve got a few things to discuss with Giovanni."

Richie spoke up then, "Actually, Jon won’t be back for a while. That’s why I’m here, to keep an eye on Mac. Why don’t you come back later and I’ll be sure to tell Jon that you stopped by." Richie started toward the door, but didn’t quite make it. Something picked him up and flung him across the room, barely missing Mac when he hit the floor.

Mac screamed, "Richie," and ran to the guitarist.

Richie sat up glaring at the vampire. "I’m okay," he told Mac as she knelt beside him.

"Let me guess," she replied softly, "you don’t have your nickle."

"No, it must be in my other pants," Richie answered sarcastically.

"My dime’s on my dresser," she told him, "I was sure we were out of danger when we left Portland."

Richie was still glaring at the intruder. He raised his voice slightly, "It won’t do any good to whisper, Mac. He’s a vamp. He can hear us anyway."

"Oh, so Giovanni’s told you his little secret," Caleb acknowledged Richie’s statement.

"Yeah, it’s kind of hard to miss those fangs, and the idle threats to rip my throat out and suck me dry," Richie told him, dryly. "Although, I’m sure they won’t be idle threats when he gets his hands on you."

"We’ll see," Caleb said softly. "This isn’t exactly where I wanted this to all go down," he said, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"Really?" Richie answered him, "Well, then why don’t you just tell me where you want Jon to meet you, and be on your way?"

"What? And just trust that he’ll show up?" Caleb asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Jon’s no coward," Richie defended his friend, as he rose to his feet. "What’s all this about?"

"That’s none of your concern," Caleb answered angrily.

The vampire leveled his gaze on Mac. Briefly, she felt the sensation of butterfly wings brushing against her brain, but she only glared at Caleb. "Come to me," he said softly, as if trying to mesmerize her.

Mac raised her chin in the air defiantly. "It wouldn’t work for Jon, and it won’t work for you," she told him arrogantly. "You can’t control me anymore than he could. So, go fuck yourself."

"Brute force it is then," Caleb said, sounding resigned.

The vampire raised one hand, even with his shoulder, and Mac felt herself being pulled toward him. Richie glared at the vampire, and with angry strides stepped between him and Mac. He crossed the remaining distance in long strides. "Stop it," Richie demanded angrily.

"What are you going ta do ta stop me, mortal?"

Richie drew back his right arm, and let his fist fly. He struck the shorter vampire squarely on the jaw. Caleb’s head barely turned. Richie only had a second to stare at him in surprise; he had put all of his strength behind that punch. Had that been a mortal man, Richie’s punch should’ve landed him on his ass.

Richie’s surprise vanished when the vampire used his mind to send Richie flying across the room again. This time Richie hit the wall. Hard. He slid unceremoniously to the floor in a heap.

Mac’s cry of alarm was silenced, when Caleb ordered softly, "You will come with me, willingly and quietly, or I will kill him."

"Mac, NO," Richie demanded when she nodded in agreement with the vampire’s order. The guitarist tried in vain to get up from the floor, but the vampire was using his powers to keep him firmly seated against the wall. When the vampire and Mac reached the door, Richie ordered loudly, "Come back here, Fucker! If you leave with her, Jon’ll stake you."

"Only if I don’t get ‘im first," Caleb said menacingly, as he opened the door.

"Don’t you want me to tell Jon where you’ll be?" Richie asked, before the vampire could leave with Mac.

"Just tell Giovanni, that I said," the vampire paused meaningfully, "Toby."

"Toby? What the fuck does that mean?" Richie demanded.

"He’ll know," was his only answer, as the door closed with a soft click behind Caleb and Mac.

Several minutes went by before Richie could finally get up from the floor. Knowing he wouldn’t find them, he ran to the door anyway. No luck. The vampire was long gone, taking Mac with him. Jon was going to be pissed!