by Seana Kelly
True to his word, I was dropped off in a vampire-free blue room. I locked the door after he left. Thinking better of the flimsy lock, I dragged the writing desk over to barricade the door. It was surprisingly heavy, given the delicate design. I knew it wouldn’t stop any of the predators in house. I just wanted an alarm, so I wasn’t killed in my sleep.
Placing the books on the nightstand, I realized that the claws were gone, and my jaw no longer hurt. Huh. I tore open the bedding, just to make sure there wasn’t a wolf’s head or a severed finger or some other sick threat left for me. Thankfully, I found only soft, white linens. I climbed in and opened to a chapter on manipulating dreams. I may not be able to extricate myself from the visions, but I hoped to learn how to better alter one while inside it.
I was so engrossed in the book, I almost missed the strange, soft noise. I put down the book and slid the bedding aside, in case I had to move quickly. Straining, I heard nothing. Flicking off the lamp on the nightstand, I waited for my eyes to adjust and then slipped from the bed.
Once the room was dark, though, I noticed something interesting. There was a faint light under a panel in the wall. Why would there be light behind my wall? Visions of creepy spy cameras floated through my mind as I quietly approached the wall. Maybe it was a closet, like the one in the bathroom. There wasn’t a conventional door, just a panel. Using that as my working theory, I tapped the wall at about the same height I’d seen Clive do it. There was a quiet snick, and the panel swung open, revealing a short passage to another room. A secret passageway! This place was awesome. Other than the killer vamps, of course.
I tiptoed down the dark passage, hearing a rustling in the next room. At the doorway to the new room, I paused. Why wasn’t there a closed panel on this side of the passage, too?
Movement. And then Clive stood in the middle of the room, his shirt unbuttoned as he pulled it from his trousers. I must have made a noise, because his reaction was immediate. One moment unbuttoning a shirt, the next in a fighter’s crouch, eyes vamp black, fangs out.
Well, shit.
Twenty-Six
Never Sneak Up on a Vampire
I shouldn’t find Clive being scary super sexy, but damn. He straightened, his shirt hanging loose, and my throat went dry.
Hesitating and unsure, I went to him and reached up, my hand to his cheek. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He put his hand over mine and closed his eyes. “Apparently, both of us have had difficult moments tonight.”
I dropped my hand, but he held on. We stood in the middle of his bedroom, hand in hand. His room was even bigger than mine, with dark wood and charcoal gray bedding. On the walls, he had simple, black and white ink drawings.
“So,” I said, glancing back at the passage between the rooms. “Am I staying in the side piece’s apartment?”
He choked out a laugh, shaking his head. “No.”
“You sure? Because I recognize this set up from historical romance novels. The duke or earl or whatnot has his room with a door adjoining his lady’s room. The set up makes for easy conjugal visits while keeping her out of his space.”
“If you’ll recall correctly, I wanted you to stay here with me. You requested a guest room.”
“And got the side piece’s room.”
“There is no side piece room.” Saying ‘side piece’ in an offended British accent caused me to snort-laugh. He rolled eyes that were back to his normal stormy gray. “Come,” he said, leading me to his sitting area. “Would you like a drink?”
“Do you have chocolate milk?”
His face went blank. “No. I don’t believe we do.”
“Bummer.”
Squinting, he directed me to the gray and black striped sofa. “Do you really want me to send someone out for chocolate milk or are you screwing with me?”
“Clive, the lack of trust hurts.” Befuddled was an adorable look on him.
“That’s what I thought. Would you like me to send down for a pot of tea?”
“Can you guarantee it will arrive spit-free?” Vampires wanted to kill me. I was pretty sure spiking my tea with bodily fluids was not an unreasonable concern.
Clive considered a moment. “Bottle of water?”
“Exactly. No. I’m fine,” I said, as I smoothed my hand over the soft damask fabric.
He stood awkwardly for a second, noticed his shirt was undone, and began buttoning it.
“You don’t need to do that on my account.” The man’s chest and stomach were works of art.
Relaxing, he grinned, pulling off the shirt and tossing it, before sitting next to me. “This evening has not gone as I’d hoped. I put you in danger while promising to keep you safe. And your hands,” he reached over to hold one. “Had that ever happened before?”
I shook my head.
“I thought not. You looked terrified and were trying valiantly to hide it.” He lifted my hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “Demons, drowning, and vampires all in one night.”
“What’s happening to me?” I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder.
“I think you’ll need to narrow down your concerns.” He kissed my hand again and then held it against his chest.
I closed my eyes. “The magical fuckery. The lost necklace. The missing cuff. I feel like I’m fighting an invisible attacker.”
“We’ll figure it out. Coco is working on a replacement piece. We’ll find whoever is behind this.”
“Before I die?” I was so tired, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
I awoke cocooned in warmth, a strong arm wrapped around me. A moment of disorientation and then I recognized Clive’s scent. My hand was on his chest, my head on his shoulder. How had I got here? The last thing I remembered was sitting on his couch, discussing my impending death. Now I was lying in bed with Clive.
His arm tightened around me, as he caressed my hip. Stomach fluttering, I froze. Was this really happening? Was my mind my own? Please don’t use Clive against me. Nothing horrible was happening, so this might not be a vision. I grinned at the thought. Maybe I was just snuggling with Clive. I mentally high five’d myself.
He kissed the top of my head. “Go back to sleep. It’s late.”
“How did I get here?”
“I carried you. You’ve only been out a quarter hour.”
“Oh.” When he was holding me like this, the panic didn’t surface. Scars invisible in the dark, I wrapped myself around the very hot vampire. Was this okay? He’d said he’d wanted me here all along. I was the one who’d freaked and wanted my own room. Cuddled up with him now, I had no idea why.
I wanted to run my hands over his sculpted chest. I wanted my lips on his, but a part of me also wanted to go back to my own bed, where there was no expectation, no pressure, no fear of doing everything wrong. I wasn’t used to having someone to hold, someone to rely on.
Could I do this? Could I let someone in? And if I did, if I finally had a hand to hold in the night, how would I ever again survive without it? All I had to do was run my hand down his chest and he’d know I was awake and wanted him. That’s all I had to do. And I was terrified.
“Shh.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
Fuck it. I slid my hand over his broad chest, down his toned stomach. Soft skin over hard muscle, the man’s body wasn’t real.
“I’m Clive Fitzwilliam, and I approve this message.”
I giggled as he slid down, so we were nose to nose. Our eyes met and held. The heat and desire in his gaze burned away my nerves, leaving me warm and achy.
“Are you pulling that vampy stuff on me?”
“No, and you know how I feel about that word.”
“Stuff?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but I got there first, shutting him up with a kiss. Yes. This. Was it always like this? Or was it Clive? His hand slid down silk, pulling my leg over his hip. He deepened the kiss, his hand on my butt, pulling me closer. W
hen did this bed get so hot?
I shoved at his shoulders, pushing him back. “Is this real? Is this happening?” I felt him hard against me. Part of me gloried that I had this effect on him. Part of me worried the trauma was too great, that I’d never be able to lose myself, that nightmares in my past would make me forever cold and brittle.
“If this isn’t real, then I appear to be horribly defiling this poor, unsuspecting bed. The cleaning staff will whisper about it for decades.” He kissed me softly. “What else is going on up there?” he asked while tapping my forehead.
“There’s a lot of shit battling to be my top concern right now.”
“Give me the top two combatants.” He ran his hand down my back, holding me close.
“I’m stuck in a vision. Someone is using you—my feelings for you—to keep me believing and engaged until a herd of vampires attacks or a guillotine drops.”
“We don’t travel in herds and—”
“Flocks?”
He nibbled on my lower lip. “No. And I can assure you, there are no heavy blades installed in the ceiling or walls.”
I studied the ceiling. “Are you sure?”
He looked up with me. “I was. Now I feel like we should move to the couch.”
“Ha!” I punched him in the shoulder. “Suave, dream Clive wouldn’t have said that. He’d have been all ‘I will protect you from all danger with my wicked hot body. You are safe and should now get naked so I can protect you from the inside.’”
“I don’t believe I care for this dream Clive. Although.” He paused, thinking. “Dream Clive has a point. Let’s get you naked, Sam, so I can protect you from the inside.” He laughed, kissing my neck.
When I went for the buttons on my top, he caught my hand and kissed it.
“I was joking. You can stay all wrapped up until you’re comfortable. Until you know without a doubt that this is real. I’m not going anywhere.”
Biting my lip, I said, “I thought maybe we could try second base.”
Clive furrowed his brow, clearly confused.
“You know, touch me up top. Second base.” My face heated. I was an idiot.
“It seems I was grossly misinformed about the nature of baseball.”
I let out a nervous laugh.
“And yes, I would very much like to try second base. You have, after all, already felt me up.”
I relaxed, as he knew I would. Clive using slang in his proper British voice always cracked me up. I unbuttoned the top and slid out of it, before falling back into his arms. He held me as we stared at each other. I was making it too momentous. I was screwing it up again.
“Give us a kiss, Luv,” he said in a Cockney accent.
Smiling, I did, and all the nerves and worries fell away. There was only Clive and me, and we were fine. No, we were amazing. We lost ourselves in kisses and touches until I had trouble breathing. With his mouth on me, I had trouble thinking.
Eventually, he settled me in the crook of his arm, and held my hand against his chest again. We were back where we started. “This is enough. Having you here with me is more than enough.”
I sighed at the truth I heard in his words, at the care. I had no idea what to do with that realization, but it made me hopeful.
“You should know, I’m far less alert during daylight hours, but I can be roused. If you need me, wake me.”
I nodded, my cheek against his chest. “Can all vampires wake during the day?”
“No. It’s a gift of mine.”
Whew. And in the perverse way in which my mind worked, as I thought about day walking vampires instead of the hot vampire lying next to me, I fell asleep.
When I woke again, it felt like I’d slept hours and yet the room was pitch black. Oh, right. Vampire. I was on my side, Clive at my back, his arm tight around me. I checked my phone. It was almost noon, and there was a message from Owen saying he’d be by around noon to pick me up for work. Shit! I scrambled out of bed.
Back in the blue room, I texted Owen to let him know I might be a few minutes late and then jumped in the shower. Afterward, I ignored the backpack on the floor, diving into the closet for clothes. The jeans were tighter than I was used to but fit perfectly. I pulled a thin, long-sleeved sweater from a drawer. It was the same green as the silk jammies that I now never wanted to sleep without. I found socks and a new pair of running shoes in dark gray. Looking in the mirror, I realized I looked like me, just upgraded. Sam 2.0.
He was right about the bathroom. There were toothbrushes and paste in a drawer, even expensive hair stuff and ties. I blow-dried, braided, and was ready to go two minutes before noon.
When I reached for the doorknob of the blue room, I paused, afraid of what might be waiting on the other side. I had claws, though. They’d come out last night. I needed to have faith they’d be there when I needed them.
The hall was empty and dark, some kind of mechanized panel had dropped from the ceiling to block the windows. Now, I understood Clive’s nonchalance over big windows and death by sun. Knowing Clive was the only vampire who could wake during the day didn’t stop me from tiptoeing down the stairs, tensing at every breath of sound.
There was a light on in the foyer that created deeper shadows in the recesses of the hall. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and strained to listen. Footsteps. Clive had said he was the only one who could be awoken during the day, and yet I heard footsteps walking toward me. The front door had a security panel beside it. The light was red.
I wanted to get the hell out, but did a red light indicate that the door was locked? Would I set off alarms? The footsteps were coming down the main hall from the back of the house. There appeared to be no attempt to hide the sound. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Now or never.
I bolted to the front door and threw it open. Not locked. No alarm. I breathed a sigh of relief and then heard, “Ms. Quinn?”
Standing in the open doorway, I looked back and saw a young woman with a mass of beautifully curly hair, wearing black trousers and a white blouse. She looked more like an admin than a killer.
“I’m sorry to stop you. I’m Norma, Mr. Fitzwilliam’s personal assistant. I was asked to give you this.” She handed me a black velvet box. “It was delivered this morning. The Master wanted to make sure you had it before you left the protection of his home.” Nodding curtly, she turned and walked back down the hall. My nose identified her as fully human, which made sense. He’d need people to work during the day.
Brushing that aside for now, I focused on what she’d handed me. Opening it, I found a necklace. It was different from my mother’s, but then again, my mother wasn’t a jeweler. It was longer than choker length, but just, which meant it should fit when I shifted. I didn’t recognize the metal used. It didn’t burn, so not silver, but a lighter, brighter metal. The thin strands of metal were woven in a kind of narrow cage running the entire length of the necklace. Trapped in the cage were the same blue, purple, and black stones my mother’s pendant held. It was delicate—exquisite, really—and I wanted it around my neck as quickly as possible.
“Diamonds?”
I looked up and noticed Owen leaning against the side of his car. “Better.” I closed the front door behind me and made my way to him. “Your beau’s sister made me a replacement necklace.” I turned the open jewelry box so he could see.
Owen’s eyes lit up. “Ooh. Damn, she does nice work.”
“Can you help me put it on? The clasp looks tricky.” Owen and I needed to play with it for a few minutes before we figured out how the multiple locking systems worked. Once on, this sucker wasn’t coming off.
Owen secured it around my neck, and I breathed easy for the first time since all this began. “Soooo,” Owen drew out the word. “Spent the night with Clive, huh?” He winked as he got in the car.
“How did you know to pick me up here?”
“Clive left me a message. And how did it go?”
“A couple of vampires tried to kill me. Good times.” I
dropped into his passenger seat.
He looked aghast. “Damn, woman. Can you never do things the easy way?”
Apparently not.
Twenty-Seven
There’s a Curse?
Once we were on the road, Owen wasted no time. “I talked with my parents last night about Schuyler. Mom said the black streaks in her aura showed up months ago. Some people have stopped going, opting to buy online instead. Mom and her friends take turns, one going and buying for the group. I guess someone asked Schuyler about it when the first black streak appeared. She said she was working through a complicated spell she’d found in an ancient grimoire. Mom heard that Schuyler herself had been shocked the black was there and unsure how she’d earned it. As time has passed, though, and the black spread, fewer people believe it was accidental.”
“That’s disturbing but not terribly helpful.” Couldn’t someone snatch that grimoire and find out what she’s been up to?
“Pretty much what I said to my folks.” He turned down a tree-lined road, mansions diminishing in size. “Oh! And I asked her about you. She said there’s been talk about you for years. A small but certain group—of which my Mom is a member—has always believed that you carried wicche blood. Helena won’t talk about you, but just the fact that you were living with her when you first arrived had them all buzzing.”
Pausing at a stop sign, Owen glanced over at me. “Mom says you bear a striking resemblance to the Corey wicches.”
I grabbed Owen’s arm. “My Mom was Bridget Corey.”
Owen shook his head. “She’s always right. Hang on a minute.” He tapped his phone, and the sound of ringing filled the car.
“Hello, Honey. Your father and I were just talking. When are you bringing George home for dinner?”
“Soon. I promise. Mom, I have Sam here with me, and she says her mother was Bridget Corey.”
“I knew it!”
“Yes, we’re all very impressed.” Owen rolled his eyes at me, but the love and affection he had for his mother shone through.
