“Hungry, buddy?” Olivia asked as she shut the door.
The enormous German shepherd picked up the blue bowl in his mouth and looked at her through big brown eyes.
“I guess so,” she said with a laugh.
Olivia placed Oreo on the floor and watched as the kitten investigated the kitchen, while she took the bowl from Van and tugged open the tall white kitchen cabinet. She made quick work of getting dinner for Van, pouring a bowl of milk for Oreo, and whipping up a large mug of blood for herself. She leaned against the edge of the marble countertop and surveyed the space as she waited for the microwave to do its job.
It looked like any other apartment in Manhattan, except for the noticeable lack of windows. She didn’t need a kitchen, but she liked having one because she enjoyed cooking for Marianna or Damien from time to time. Her fridge was bare except for pints of blood and some milk and leftover lasagna from having Damien over for dinner last Sunday.
The microwave dinged loudly, announcing the job was complete. Olivia snagged her mug and took a sip. The warm liquid coated her throat and instantly warmed her body. She chugged back the rest and quickly washed the mug before heading back to her bedroom to get ready. She knew better than anyone that she would need all of her wits about her when hunting the rogue.
Olivia passed the guest bedroom and hall bathroom, noting she still hadn’t picked that room up since Pete and Marianna stayed with her a few months ago.
Olivia swung open the double doors to the master bedroom and let out a contented sigh. She loved her bedroom. The walls were painted the lightest shade of blue that she could find and reminded her of a summer sky. The king-size bed with the black leather headboard took up much of the room, but it was the softest bed on the planet, and it sure beat the hell out of a coffin. The apple-green comforter looked ridiculously welcoming, especially since she hadn’t gotten a full day’s sleep. However, she resisted the urge to dive on the bed and headed for her closet.
The only thing Olivia adored more than her bedroom was her closet. She wasn’t exactly a clotheshorse, but there was no denying a hot pair of high heels or a well-fitting suit made her feel powerful, in control, and sexy.
She promptly stripped down to her white bra and lace thong. She draped her suit over the hamper and put her Louboutins on the one empty space of the shoe rack, which was really more of a shoe wall. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t a clotheshorse but could probably be accused of hoarding shoes.
Van Helsing trotted into the room with the kitten behind him desperately trying to capture his tail. Olivia smiled when she saw that the milk had perked the little girl up. Van barked and hopped onto the tufted bench at the foot of her bed. The minute he got up there, Oreo started mewling to join him.
“Conspiring against me already?” she said through a laugh.
Olivia hoisted the kitten and placed her next to Van. She promptly did three circles in a row before curling up next to her new protector. Van made a satisfied snuffling noise before placing his head on his front paws and watching Olivia’s every move.
“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.