The Vampire's Protector. Michele Hauf

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      “Better. It’s technology. Let me find some rock and roll. With your background in music I think you might appreciate the head-banging stuff.”

      “It comes from your tiny box? Surely that is witchcraft. And that thing is a witchbox.”

      “Whatever works for you.” Black Veil Brides blasted through the speakers. “This is called heavy metal. The band actually incorporates a violin in some of their songs.”

      Nicolo, while touching his ears intermittently and then touching the dashboard in seek of the source, gradually allowed a huge smile to trace his face. And when his eyes met hers, dancing with delight, Summer felt her heart drop.

      The guy was a job. And before said job was over, she may need to kill him.

       Chapter 5

      The sound—where was it coming from? Nicolo rapped the dashboard of the carriage, then sensed the sound was also coming from somewhere in the door. And the song had changed from one sung by a male vocalist to a female.

      “So loud,” he remarked. “Yet her voice, it is tortured. What is this violent yet delicious music?”

      “It’s called hard rock or heavy metal,” Summer said. “You like it?”

      He met her daring gaze with an unsure nod, which then changed to a more positive shake of his head. “I think I do. What is she singing?”

      “Song’s called ‘Welcome to the Gun Show.’ The band is In This Moment. I love her voice. So raw and raunchy. But I know something that will be even more interesting to you.” She turned down the volume using the radio dial.

      “Don’t do that! I want to hear this.”

      “I’m going to switch songs.”

      “But you are moving too fast for me. I like this song. I want to put this into my brain.”

      His enjoyment must have given her a kick, for she chuckled at him again. Such a bold woman. He attributed that to her being vampire. Or perhaps the twenty-first-century woman had evolved to a sort of exotically aggressive powerhouse. He liked it.

      He liked Summer.

      “A little David Garrett might surprise you,” she said. Tapping the witchbox, she said to it, “Play David Garrett’s ‘Paganini Caprice No. 24.’”

      “Did you just ask me to—” Nicolo paused when the surprising first notes of the violin caprice carried over the speakers. “Mio Dio! This is my composition! But it is...”

      “Given a hard rock edge. It’s awesome, isn’t it?”

      Despite the fact he’d never appreciated when someone had attempted to play his compositions—because they could never achieve the perfection he had mastered—Nicolo found himself shaking his head to the dashing allegretto scale. “It’s different, but I do like it. The violinist even manages the harmonics. How were you able to command it to play a specific song? Does this vehicle know every song ever composed?”

      Summer laughed. “No, it’s in my, uh...witchbox.” She tapped the tiny device. “More stuff you’ll have to learn about if you want to survive in the twenty-first century.”

      “The twenty-first century.” He leaned an elbow on the vehicle door and caught his forehead in hand. “Who would have thought? And I am being conveyed in a horseless vehicle with no fear of running off the road. It is a marvel. And such a smooth ride.”

      “Shock absorbers.”

      “We had the like in my time. Just those springs were not so smooth as whatever is under your carriage.”

      “It’s a car. Ah, I love this part.” She turned up the radio.

      And Nicolo closed his eyes to take in the composition. It was well played and even more rapidly than he had once managed. The violinist was an expert. But he could not get beyond the marvel that the music was right there, at the literal touch of the vampire’s fingertip. She could call up any song she wished with her witchbox. A song that summoned many wonderful memories. Life had been beautiful when standing on stage. To be adored and respected had mattered to him. He’d had a lovely son and many lovers.

      Could he have that again?

      “We’re driving through a town,” Summer informed him.

      “Ah.” He opened his eyes. “Keep your eyes open for a tavern.”

      “They are usually referred to as bars nowadays. I see a liquor store. With luck, they might still be open.”

      After Summer had bought a bottle of wine for Nicolo and explained how money was kept on small plastic cards, he decided he wanted one of those cards. They stood outside the car, and she handed him the wine. He bit the cork out with some difficulty.

      He asked after swallowing a good draft, “They issue those plastic cards to everyone?”

      “Yes, but you have to pay back the money. It’s not free money. And I’m pretty sure you are penniless.”

      “You said my violin was on display in Genoa? If I sold that I would have thousands.”

      “More like millions,” she said. “The Guarnerius Paganini is worth a fortune.”

      “Just so?” She nodded at him and took a quaff from the bottle. “Then we should drive right to Genoa and demand they hand it over. It is mine, after all.”

      “And how are you going to explain who you are? The whole rising-from-the-dead part?”

      “I will leave that to you. It seems zombies are common in your modern world. You carry pictures of them in your witchbox.”

      “I didn’t take that picture. It was from The Walking Dead. A TV show.”

      “I know what a tee-vee is!”

      “Good for you. I’ll have to find a music station for you to watch. Until then, I can do this.” She stepped alongside him and held up the device before them. “Smile.”

      Nicolo could not figure what she was doing, but he smiled on command. Of course, he was distracted by the sweep of her hair across his neck. She took liberties with their proximity. He liked that, as well. The device clicked and after adjusting it, she turned it to him for inspection. Their images had been captured. Just now. The two of them standing together. It was...

      “More than witchcraft,” he said on a tense whisper. “Is this the devil’s magic? Is it you who has come to tempt me this time around and see me play the black violin?”

      He backed away from her. Tried to recall the way to hold his fingers to ward off the damned, but making a cross with two fingers was not it, he was sure of that.

      “Nicolo, don’t worry. And we vamps are not repelled by the holy unless we’ve been baptized. Which I am not. Anyway, the last thing I want you to do is play that violin. A few accidental notes may have raised you from the dead, but I don’t think it was enough to СКАЧАТЬ