TheBrokenOrnament Read online

  Dressed in khaki slacks and a white button down shirt, the strange man projected authority. He stood leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. The pose accentuated the size of his… Cherie looked away from him. What was she doing, looking at that?

  The man also exuded sex appeal. Frowning, Cherie licked her lips. She shouldn’t be attracted to the man, for goodness sake. She should be outraged at finding herself in his hotel room—and Virginia Beach? How in the hell long had he kept her sedated?

  “Don’t look so surprised. Did you think I would not eventually return?” He cocked his head and looked at her. “Did Arty send you?”

  What? Did this lunatic think she was here because she wanted to be here? “Arty? I don’t know an Arty.” She brought her hand to her throat and looked around. Was there someone else here as well? “I want to know how I got here.”

  Leaning to her right, Cherie tried to look past him thru the open door. Was this a suite? She could swear there was a sofa through the door behind him and maybe a chair or two.

  “What am I doing here?”

  “I was about to ask you that, as well.” He gave her a level look that would have scared her had she had anything to lose. As it was, he just annoyed her. “I think Arty did send you and I’m about to get to the bottom of it.” He pulled a smart phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a few times.

  He brought the phone to his ear, waited a minute, pulled it down, then looked at his phone and frowned. “I hate voicemail.”

  Cherie couldn’t agree with him on that one. She loved it. She had called her sister’s cell phone at least three dozen times since her death, just to hear her voice. For a minute, Cherie could pretend that nothing had happened that fateful night and her sister and niece were still only a phone call away.

  Forgetting his phone for a moment, the man looked up at her, a lock of his unusual-colored hair falling over his brow. His black eyes pinned her in place as he looked her up and down. His expression was blank, cold, as though he didn’t quite like what he saw before him.

  Cherie stood up straighter, thrusting her chin out. So what if he didn’t relish the way she looked? It wasn’t as though she wanted the man to throw her to the bed and make wild, passionate love to her. No, she gave a mental shake of her head. She just wanted to go home.

  “How did I get here?” She moved away from the window. The sunrise climbing over the horizon made it increasingly difficult to look at him and for some reason, she needed to see some expression in those black, seemingly soulless, eyes of his or she just needed them in shadow. Maybe she could get him to change places with her somehow.

  “How in the hell would I know, lady?” He shoved his phone back into his pocket and pushed away from the wall, making his way over to the mini fridge in the corner of the room. Opening the door, he pulled out a bottle of water and tossed it to her. “Drink this. You must be thirsty.”

  Catching the bottle was easy. Drinking its contents…well…not so much. Eying the bottle suspiciously, Cherie wasn’t sure if she should take anything from the man or not.

  “It’s sealed. Check the cap.” He sighed when she still hesitated. “I’m not some sort of serial killer, though I’m sure you must think so, under the circumstances. Perhaps things will make more sense, once I talk with Arty. If I can ever get him to answer his damned phone.”

  His phone rang, playing a rather annoying tune and he grinned at her. “Speak of the devil.” Turning, he pulled his phone from his pocket and answered the phone. “Hello, Arty. I just tried to—”

  After a short pause, he gave Cherie a sharp look. “Yes. She’s here in my room. What?” He turned around and said something in a low voice.

  Cherie shook her head and set the bottle of water down on the stand next to the bed. She had to go to the bathroom. Whatever Mr. Personality had to say, could wait until she was done. She wanted to take advantage of the fact that he was distracted because who knew what he would do if he knew she was in the bathroom half naked—even if it was for just a few short seconds.

  Chapter Four

  “You’re stuck with her—at least for the time being.” Arty exhaled deeply. He was most likely smoking.

  Hunter grimaced. He didn’t understand the need humans had for their vices. If he were human, he would take care of the body given to him. He would never want to become a vampire to stave off death. Had he had a choice, he would have taken the opportunity to grow old and die with a human woman.

  He wouldn’t have had to wait centuries to find a woman compatible with his vampire side. A woman that he couldn’t completely control would be a godsend.

  “Did you try?”

  The sound of Arty’s voice brought him from his musings and he frowned. “Tried what?”

  “Have to tried to control her? She is a human, you know. She could very well be your mate,” Arty said dryly.

  Hunter looked around the room with a frown. Where did she go? His gaze settled on the closed bathroom door and he gave an inward sigh. She was no doubt in the bathroom seeing to her human needs.

  He didn’t believe he hadn’t tried to control her. It had become almost habit for him to do so whenever he met a woman. He’d probably been so irritated to find that the woman had slept in his bed that he hadn’t bothered to attempt it.

  “No. I haven’t.” He stared at the door, willing her to come out so he could give it his best shot. If he gave it a go while she was still in the other room, he wouldn’t be sure. To totally control a strong-minded human, the person in question had to be in one’s line of sight.

  He heard water running in the sink just after the toilet flushed and he waited impatiently for his opportunity.

  “Try to control her already. I called because our equipment tracked another human from an alternate dimension and we wanted to be sure she didn’t run around talking crazy and getting herself locked up.” He chuckled. “Though our world believes in magic, no one really believes that traveling though dimensions is possible.”

  “Traveling through dimensions?” What the hell was the human talking about now? “Even I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Well, believe it.” There was a short pause on the other end of the phone then Arty added, “You remember Gregori’s mate?”

  “Gregori Tesco?” He did remember Gregori falling in love only to have his mate taken from him by slayers. If he remembered correctly…“Didn’t the woman return from the dead somehow?”

  “Yes.” Hunter could almost see the other man nodding his head. “Kaylee didn’t return from the dead as most would claim. Slayers killed our world’s version of her. The woman we all now know as Kaylee Tesco somehow managed to find her way from another dimension. Only her dimension didn’t have vampires or magic of any kind. She was difficult to convince. Don’t think this woman will be any different.”

  Hunter sighed. “And what do I do with her if she’s not my mate?”

  “Take her to a council meeting. We’ve found that humans brought over from other dimensions are doubles of humankind who have already died in this dimension.” He chuckled. “They also tend to resist mind control.” Arty cleared his throat. “That isn’t saying that you won’t be able to control her, if she’s your mate. Chances are you will be able to control her. Gregori does so with Kaylee on a regular basis when she’s in danger. You just won’t be able to make her forget you did so. Call it a quirk.”

  “A quirk?”

  “Yes. If she was from this dimension you wouldn’t be able to control her indefinitely as you have been taught. From what I’ve seen, vampires can control mates that come from other dimensions. However, you cannot wipe their memories, which can be problematic if you intend to bend her to your will.”

  The bathroom door opened and the woman walked into the room. He watched as she brushed her long, brown hair back over her shoulder with a toss of her head. Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even with her hair still a bit disheveled and her clothes looking as though she’d slept in them�
��which she had—the woman was a beauty. There was no denying it.

  “I’ll let you go for now, Arty. Keep me posted on what you find out about the situation and I’ll do what I can from here.”

  He hung up the phone, locked the screen and stuck it back in his pocket. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He strode over to her and held out his hand. “I’m Hunter Vasko and you are?”

  He watched as several emotions skittered across her face. She bit her lip and looked toward the door as though wondering if he’d let her leave. He could have just pushed into her mind and found out exactly what she was thinking, but if her world had no magic as Arty suggested, it would frighten her to find out that he could read her mind.

  She looked at his proffered hand for a moment before slowly lifting her hand to place it on his own. “I’m Cherie Gardner.” She stiffened a bit when he tightened his fingers around hers, but softened when he bent to press his lips against the back of her hand.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Cherie Gardner.” Straightening, he released her hand and moved away. “I have no idea how you managed to find your way into my hotel room and I also don’t know how you managed to get here to Virginia Beach. I can only say that I was as startled as you to find you in this room.”

  Chapter Five

  Cherie looked up at him, still speechless from the fact that the man had actually kissed the back of her hand. She didn’t think men did that anymore. Warmth settled in her middle as she stared up at him. He acted as though he were some old-world gentleman instead of a twenty-first century kidnapper.

  Not only did the man have manners, he had the most adorable dimple when he smiled. She wanted to reach up and feel it. The urge to reach up and touch that delightful hollow in his cheek was almost overpowering. Somehow, she managed to keep her hands fisted at her sides. It appeared the man could be charming, after all. She wondered exactly what it was that this Arty person told him to make him do such a complete attitude about-face.

  What was it about that smile that made her want to stand here and stare at the man all day? He was a kidnapper, for goodness sakes. She tilted her head and stared at him critically. Well, he was at least an accomplice. Perhaps it was that Arty person who had brought her here and that was why he’d called the man.

  “I wish I could say that I’m pleased to meet you, as well.” She grimaced at her choice of words. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I’m not trying to say that I don’t think you’re a nice person. It’s just that I really don’t know you well enough to make that kind of decision.” She hurried to add, “I just wish I knew how I got here.” She frowned. “I find it difficult to believe that you had nothing to do with my being here.” Good grief! What was she saying? If she acted as though she believed he didn’t kidnap her, she could leave and call the police. “After all, how did I end up in your room?”

  “If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.” He stood with his hips resting against the bureau.

  Did he choose that spot because it was right next to the phone?

  “Try me. The way I see it, you have nothing to lose. After all, I’m going to be hard-pressed to believe much of anything you say at this point.” She shifted her weight to her right foot and rested her hands on her hips. Did he think she was stupid or just plain gullible?

  Hunter—if that was even his real name—rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Okay, but remember, you asked me to tell you this. Don’t blame me when you think I’m some sort of lunatic.”

  He paced away from the bureau to the window. He stopped with his back to her as he gazed out at something beyond the glass. “This isn’t the same world you’re used to.”

  “What?” She stared at him as she moved toward the door slowly, hoping that he wouldn’t notice. “I wouldn’t expect Virginia to be anything like my home town, but it can’t be that different. What do you mean this isn’t the same world?” She continued to back toward the door.

  “I don’t know how to explain this.” He rested his hands on the windowsill and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the glass. He shook his head. “Arty told me that somehow, people are coming here, to our world, from other dimensions.”

  The man was crazy! Cherie couldn’t help it. She choked and when she did, he turned. Damn. She’d almost made it to the door, too.

  “Leave if you want.” He shrugged. “You’ll see that things here are different from your world. I can’t tell you how different, but you’ll see, eventually.” He pressed his lips together and looked past her to the door. “Go ahead.” He waved toward the exit. “Check it out.” He turned back toward the window. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you figure it out.”

  Making a dive for the door, Cherie flung it open and ran out into the hall. At first she didn’t know where to go. She stood still for a split second staring at the door to the room across the hall, room sixteen-twenty-one. It should be easy enough to remember which room he was in when she called the police to have Hunter Vasco arrested for kidnapping. Maybe he’d end up in the psych ward and get the treatment he so desperately—and obviously—needed.

  Making a right, she headed for what she hoped was the alcove where the elevators would be located. Turning the corner, she sighed with relief and hurried to the closest elevator and repeatedly pushed the button until the elevator’s bell dinged and the doors opened.

  Thankfully, the elevator was empty and she didn’t have to wait for anyone to exit. Cherie hurried into the small enclosure and pressed the button for the first floor before leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around her middle.

  What in the world was going on? How did she get here and how in the heck would she get home? She had no identification and no way to get any. Hell, she couldn’t even prove who she was to get a temporary credit card to buy a ticket home. Not to mention the ID she would need to board whatever means of transportation she could procure. Cherie closed her eyes and vowed not to cry. She was so royally screwed it wasn’t funny.

  Closing her eyes, Cherie shook her head and pressed her lips together. She refused to give in to tears. Nothing was impossible. She merely needed to find a way back. Maybe she could call someone from work to go to her house and send her the things she would need—though that would take a few days. Where would she stay with no identification and no credit card?

  The elevator doors opened on the first floor and Cherie stepped out into the lobby of the hotel, saw one thing and stopped in her tracks. Another elevator dinged as it arrived, but Cherie barely heard it. What had her attention was a woman just outside the entrance doors to the hotel. Her small booth was covered in black and midnight blue velvet. What drew Cherie’s attention, though, was the tiny, flying lizard over the woman’s head.

  A strange euphoria stole over Cherie as she watched the little creature bob and weave. Darkness ringed her vision as she watched something that couldn’t possibly exist. When the tiny creature that Cherie could only call a miniature dragon belched flame and smoke out through its mouth and nose, the darkness that ringed her vision grew until Cherie felt herself falling, falling, falling…

  She wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn that she saw Hunter’s face and his incredibly sexy and scary pure black eyes before everything around her went the same shade of black.

  Chapter Six

  When Hunter followed the woman down to the lobby, he had expected her to be startled by what she would see, but he never expected her to faint dead away as he approached her from behind.

  It was a good thing he’d followed her. Had she fallen on the hard, marble floor, she could have broken something or perhaps gotten a concussion if she’d hit her head.

  He looked around, wondering what it was that caused her to faint and saw the fortuneteller just outside the doorway. As usual, the soothsayer was accompanied by a dragon. He frowned as he looked at the two and wondered if perhaps they didn’t have dragons where the woman came from.

  He looked at the woman sit
ting on the couch in the common area, her German Shepherd Dog at her feet and wondered if, perhaps, her world didn’t have dogs. Whatever it was, it had startled the poor woman well enough that she’d lost consciousness over it.

  Instinct told Hunter he should take the woman back to his room. While vampires now had rights, there were still slayers about who felt as though they shouldn’t have any rights, including the right to live. Should someone peg him as a vampire, or nightwalker as they deemed his kind, it could very well put the woman in danger.

  Still, if he carried her back to his room, he would have a difficult time convincing her he did so to protect her. She would be more than willing to believe he’d truly kidnapped her and was merely trying to keep her from notifying the police.

  Hunter gazed down at the woman in his arms and felt an unfamiliar tightening in his stomach and his chest. Whatever it was he felt for this woman, he didn’t have the right to feel it until she’d come to terms with the fact that she was no longer in Kansas. He frowned at that. Why had she called herself Dot? Wasn’t that short for…

  “You, my friend, are an idiot,” he said to himself when he realized the reference. In fact, he was rather surprised that it took him so long to figure it out, considering he’d seen the movie in the theater when it first released.

  Instead of taking Cherie back to his room, he carried her over to one of the couches in the common area and sat down with her in his lap. She probably wouldn’t like waking up in his arms, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to set her down.

  He liked the way she felt in his arms. He loved the way her warm body pressed against his as though she was made for him. Hunter closed his eyes and groaned. He’d better hope she was the one or he could very well fall in love with her anyway and that would not be a good thing.

  No vampire wanted to tie their life force to a human who could leave them at the proverbial drop of a hat. No. If he tied himself to her, he would want to know it was forever.