Retribution by Jeanne C. Stein Page A

hour ago. He’s always displayed an air of chivalry toward me. To see him on his home turf acting more macho than gallant surprises me. I realize at this moment, though, that I don’t know anything about Ortiz—even how long he’s been a vampire or how old he was when he was turned. Maybe he’s younger than I think. Maybe Brooke is older.
    And Brooke certainly seems to be enjoying the attention.
    I look around the room. I followed Ortiz in my own car from the cottage so I could take off right after—doing what I need to do. He and Brooke live in a new housing development in Chula Vista. The homes are upper middle class, two story, fifteen hundred square feet of yuppie suburban delight. This room is decorated in Pottery Barn essentials. I expect a dog and a couple of kids to materialize out of the woodwork.
    Hard to imagine why Ortiz, who will never be able to produce those kids, would choose to live here.
    The moment I think that, the hypocrisy rises up to thump me on the head. Look at my lifestyle. Aren’t I trying to do the same thing? Live a “normal” life?
    Brooke is still rubbing her cheek against Ortiz’ chest like she can’t get close enough. He takes her chin in his hand, turns her face up and kisses her. There’s no self-consciousness in the act, no embarrassment that I’m sitting right here with them.
    Sharing intimate moments with strangers may be the norm for these two.
    I’m relieved when the doorbell rings.
    Ortiz extricates himself from Brooke’s grasp and goes to answer it. The way Brooke is staring at me sparks the uneasy feeling that I may have asked the wrong vampire for a favor. It intensifies when Ortiz returns with a blonde in a raincoat.
    “Anna,” Ortiz says, “This is Edie.”
    Edie looks at me, head tilted, eyes shining with curious intensity. “Hi, Anna,” she says. She unbuttons the raincoat and lets it slide off her shoulders.
    She’s naked.
    Ortiz and Brooke are both standing beside her now. Ortiz cups her left breast while Brooke cups the right.
    Edie crooks a finger at me. “Let the games begin.”
    I’m stunned into speechlessness. I know a lot of vamps go for the group thing. I never expected Ortiz was one of them. Just as I never expected his girlfriend to be willing to share him. Color floods my face. I should have been more explicit in what I wanted.
    I’m not a prude. I’ve had my share of one-night stands both before and after becoming a vamp. This, however, is too much.
    Sitting in Ortiz’ catalog-perfect living room and realizing what the three strangers staring at me expect puts me over the edge.
    I swallow back humiliation and embarrassment and spear Ortiz with a look. Not going to happen, Ortiz.
    Ortiz responds with a puzzled look. What’s wrong? You said you wanted a host. He smiles at Edie. I got you a host.
    For me. Alone. Not this—
    He snorts. Come on, Anna. Williams told me about you. You’re no innocent. You’ve had plenty of human lovers.
    Embarrassment gives way to anger. One at a time. In private.
    Ortiz is staring at me, as if he can’t believe the direction this is going. The worst part is I do need to feed. The hunger is eating away at me. I refuse, though, to do it with an audience. I take a mental step back, breathe out a long sigh.
    Look, Ortiz. I’m sorry if I made you think I wanted more than blood. I can’t do this. If Edie is willing to let me feed from her, I’ll pay her. Do you want to ask her or shall I?
    Ortiz frowns. He looks seriously put out that I won’t. You offered me sex once. His tone hums with protest.
    And you turned me down . Because of your girlfriend, if I remember correctly. I thought you didn’t want to be unfaithful. I didn’t realize it was because she wasn’t there to participate.
    He starts to say something and Brooke interrupts.
    “What’s going on?” she asks. “Mario, you told me she wanted to play. You promised.”
    Mario? I didn’t even know Ortiz’ first name. We both turn to look at