But my bed is comfy.
My blankets are warm.
And my pillow. It’s never been softer.
This is why I’m not a morning person. Taking another fifteen minutes, I finally get my ass out of bed, dreaming about coffee. I check my phone for messages. There are none, thankfully. Still feeling groggy, I make it downstairs, plug in my coffee pot, and turn on the TV. I flip away from HGTV and to the local channel, which is nothing more than PowerPoint slides put together by Randy Davis, the local “survivalist.” Most of the time, the slides give “Preparedness Awareness” advice, but Randy is fast to include any sort of local hearsay.
I listen to it the whole time I make my coffee, scramble eggs, and fry up half a pound of bacon. And there is no mention of zombies wandering the streets.
“You’re welcome,” I say dryly and sip my coffee. It feels like it’s seven AM, not two PM. Did I mention I’m not a morning person?
After eating breakfast, feeding my familiars, and downing yet another cup of coffee, I check in with my friends once more. The twins are at their house, putting up a front that everything is peachy keen for their visiting grandmother. Kristy just went into the store. Betty is back today, and the new employees we hired are there for training.
They shouldn’t have any issues. Kristy enchanted them to know what she does and put a few luck charms around the store to keep asshole customers away. They shouldn’t have any issues at all.
I get dressed and head into town. It’s warm today and the sun is still bright in the sky. I go with a dark purple dress. It’s sleeveless and low-cut, which is how I like my tops. I’ve been lucky in the breast department, and every now and then I like to show them off.
And I’m going through a then phase today. But it has nothing to do with seeing Lucas later tonight.
I use magic to curl my hair while I carefully apply my makeup. Not long after, I head out the door, keys in hand. I shake out my curls as I walk and see the package on the porch. Oh, right. I’d forgotten about it.
It’s not my late-night Amazon order of books I’ve been waiting on. No, this box is white and tied with a shiny black ribbon. I have a feeling it’s from Lucas, but I still cautiously pick it up and give it a little shake.
Nothing hisses, explodes, or starts bleeding. Tucking it under my arm, I take it with me and put it on the passenger seat of my Jeep Grand Cherokee, driving into town.
Kristy is behind the counter, talking to a customer when I step into the store. She looks up and smiles. Everything seems normal about her, but I can sense it: she’s still recovering from last night.
I go behind the counter, dropping my purse to the floor. Turning away from the registers so people don’t think I’m going to ring them up, I carefully untie the ribbon and slide the lid off the box.
“Wow.” I hold up a dress, knowing I was right that Lucas sent this. It’s black, tight, low-cut and just my style. And it’s designer, costing several thousand dollars, I’m sure. A pair of black Lululemon leggings are in the same box, but I don’t need to read the note to know these aren’t for tonight…even though I know they’ll be comfy as fuck.
Callie—
Hopefully these will replace your ruined leggings from last night. Plus, I know your ass will look good in them. Wear the dress to dinner tonight if you like it. I look forward to seeing you.
—Lucas
His handwriting is incredibly neat, looking like a font from a computer.
“What is that?” Kristy asks as she puts a customer’s books in a bag. “Looks fancy.”
“Very fancy,” the customer agrees. “And whoever sent that has good taste.”
“Yeah,” I agree, head spinning a bit. “He does.” I smooth the dress out and carefully fold it back up, switching it out for Lucas’s note. It’s simple with no hidden message, yet I still read it two times.
“You’re smiling.” Kristy wiggles her eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that note says?”
“It’s nothing exciting. Don’t get your hopes up.”
She waits until the customer leaves before stepping over, looking over my shoulder. “You’re going out with Lucas tonight?”
“Yeah. I, uh, think so.”
“You better make up your mind,” she laughs. “Because it seems you’ve already told him yes.”
“Is it a bad idea?” I look at my best friend, twisting a strand of hair between my fingers.
“Do you like him?” she asks even though she already knows the answer. She has to get me to admit it to myself first.
“Yes. I find him very interesting, obviously very attractive, and he makes me feel…feel…safe. Like I can drop my guard around him and not be worried a demon will swoop in and kill us both.”
“Then I think you have your answer.”
“I need you to say it out loud,” I tell her, and she laughs. “You know I like verbal reassurance.”
“You raised—and then killed—an army of zombies last night, but you need me to say it out loud?”
“Yes. Please.”
Kristy shakes her head and laughs. “Fine. Then yes, Callie, go on the date with him.”
“You don’t think it’s a bad idea because he’s a vampire?”
“Usually, I’d say yeah, it is. But after last night…seeing him protect you…I think you’re right about him being able to keep you safe. But be careful, just like you should be on any date with any man. Dead or alive.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
“I thought they were for dark rituals and helping to bury bodies.”
She tips her head to the side. “Eh, yeah. That too.”
Another customer comes up to the counter, and I step away to find Betty. She’s going over inventory and looks up as soon as I come into the backroom.
“Hey,” I say, hoping I didn’t startle her. “How are you?”
“I’m…I’m okay,” she says after a few seconds of consideration. “Really.”
“Good. If you need time off or anything, don’t feel bad. Let us know.”
“I’m happy to be back,” she says quickly. “I’m still at my parents’ house until I find a new apartment and my mom is driving me crazy. Being here is a good distraction.”
“Okay. But really, don’t hesitate.”
She smiles. “I won’t. Hey, Callie?”
“Yeah?”
She looks down, peeling off a long piece of packing tape from the box in front of her. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She looks up, meeting my eyes for only half a second. “For whatever you did. I don’t know what it was—and I don’t want to know—but I know you were there that night. I felt you hold my hand. And then you promised he wouldn’t get away with it, and then Mike went in and confessed every bad thing he’s ever done. And I mean everything.” She meets my eyes again. “So…for whatever it was…thank you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Betty looks up and I wink. “Right. I must have been dreaming the whole time.”
“I’m sure you were. But know I have your back. And that asshole won’t touch anyone else ever again.”
Her smile widens. “I know.”
* * *
I turn, looking at myself in the mirror. I just tried on the dress Lucas sent, and it fits perfectly. Taking if off, I carefully lay it out at the foot of my bed, picking out the perfect shoes and jewelry to go with it. I have three and a half hours until sunset, and I sink back into bed, Lucas heavy on my mind.
I’m still tired, and I know I won’t get much sleep tonight. But that’s because Lucas is a vampire and is awake at night. Not because we’ll be busy having sex or anything. Geez…my mind isn’t in the gutter all the time.
Hah.
I snuggle into my bed, pulling the blankets around me, and end up dozing off for an hour. I wake up feeling foggy. After checking the time, I force myself up, go for a quick two-mile run, and rush back into the hous
e to shower and do my makeup. I use magic for my hair, and end up dressed and looking pretty dang good if I do say so myself before Lucas gets here.
Tonight, he’s driving a black Mercedes sedan.
“You look…” he starts as soon as I open the door. He sweeps his eyes over me. “Beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I step aside, letting him in. He’s dressed up a bit as well, wearing black dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a tie.
“The dress fits?” he sweeps his eyes over me again.
“The leggings do too, and I was really tempted to wear them tonight.” I shut the door and lean against the wall. Lucas closes the distance between us, and the next thing I know, his lips are brushing against mine.
“If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he whispers.
I rake my fingers through his hair. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
He lets out a guttural growl and picks me up. But instead of pinning me between his large body and the wall, he turns and takes a few paces toward the door. “We should go. If we’re late, we’ll miss our reservation.”
“Reservation? Where are we going?”
“Chicago,” he says and leads me out the door. “You said you missed the city, so let me take you back there.”
If anyone else wanted to take me back to Chicago—my real hometown—I’d protest. Because my childhood isn’t filled with happy memories. But Lucas isn’t anyone.
“I’d like that.”
“Good. I have the night planned for us, but to get started, we need to leave.” He sets me down and takes my hand. We get into the car, and he speeds out of my driveway.
“You do realize that while you might not die in a crash, I still can,” I say once we’re on the freeway. He’s been speeding and weaving in and out of traffic this whole time. He flicks his eyes to mine and lets off the gas.
“Buzzkill.”
“What happened to wanting to keep me alive?”
“So I can fuck you?”
I shake my head. Lucas laughs and reaches over, taking my hand in his. His hands are warm, and I realize he has the heated steering wheel turned on. Did he do that on purpose?
“How are you holding up?” he asks, moving his thumb in small circles against my palm.
“I’m good,” I tell him, and he gives me a dubious look. “I’m bummed I couldn’t find out who that guy was. No one on the Anderson Consultants website looked like him. I really thought maybe there was a small chance we’d all get what we want. But none of us did.”
Lucas gives my hand a squeeze. “What about your friend? The one who was drugged.”
“Betty,” I say. “She’s doing the best she can. I saw her today and it’s kind of obvious she’s burying herself in work so she doesn’t have to deal. She was a shy girl before and now she’s going to have an even harder time meeting people. All because some stupid asshole—I’ll stop. Because if I don’t, I’ll start ranting.”
“I agree with you.” Lucas presses his thumb into my palm, massaging my hand. It’s such an innocent gesture, yet it feels intimate for some reason. “Any man who has to resort to force or coercion to get a woman isn’t a man at all.”
He believes what he’s saying, which sets him apart from other vampires. A large majority of vamps feel entitled and think they can make humans do whatever the fuck they want because they see humans as less than they are.
“Are you going to tell me what happened with Eliza?” I ask and feel him stiffen, ever so slightly, for a millisecond. Is he thinking of the conversation I overheard? I wasn’t…but now I am. Heat washes over me, and I turn, watching the landscape pass by. “Why did she show up at my house?”
“Oh.” He stops moving his thumb in a circle and pushes his foot down on the gas. The car lurches forward and I grip his hand tight. “Business issues,” he explains stiffly. “Going into business with people who lived off the radar for years isn’t always easy.”
“I never really thought about that before. But it makes sense.”
“I set them straight. I won’t be having issues anymore.”
I curl my fingers in over Lucas’s hand. “I don’t want to ask, right?”
He laughs. “Vampire politics will bore you.”
“I try to avoid all politics at all cost,” I say, shaking my head. “It hits close to home, and it’s not something I want to revisit, at all.”
“Look at you, being all mysterious,” he teases. “It’s such a turn on. You’re making me want to pull this car over and have my way with you right now.”
“But what about our reservation?” I say, batting my eyes. “I can’t wait to see what kind of fancy restaurant you take me to. Though, really,” I say, getting serious, “if it’s some fancy French place, I don’t speak French.”
“I do,” he says and brings my hand up to his lips. He kisses the top of it and then drops his hand back down.
“You weren’t speaking French last night, were you?”
“No, we were speaking Italian.”
“I thought so! But you were speaking so fast it was hard to tell.”
“That’s good to know.”
I shift my weight, angling my body toward his. “You speak English, French, and Italian? Is that another undead perk? Unlimited time to learn as many languages as you want.”
Lucas falls silent for a moment, and I recognize the look in his eyes. He’s wrestling with the truth, trying to decide what to say and what to keep locked away.
“I didn’t know how to read or write as a human,” he tells me. “And for nearly a century as a vampire I didn’t care to learn. But then I realized how oppressive it was for the humans of my time to limit who’s allowed to have an education. So I made it a point to read everything I could, in as many languages I could be taught.”
My lips part, but I don’t know what to say to that. It’s a strange thing to think about Lucas as a human nearly two thousand years ago. But he’s right…back then only the wealthy nobles were taught how to read and write.
“Do you like being a vampire?” I ask before I really think it through.
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he answers.
“I suppose not.”
“But yes, I say with confidence I do like being a vampire. Just as I imagine you like being a witch.”
“I do. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
He lets go of my hand and turns on the radio to a local station, playing current, trendy music. The traffic isn’t terrible going into the city and we’re making good time. Mostly thanks to Lucas speeding.
“Where are we going?” I ask, heart beating just a little faster when I see the dark skyline dotted with yellow and orange lights.
“It’s a surprise.” He glances at me, and his eyes shine. Taking my hand again, he doesn’t let go until we park near Navy Pier. Hand in hand, Lucas leads me to wherever we’re going for dinner.
There are a handful of restaurants around the pier, but most are casual and we’d be overdressed.
“It’s busy,” I say out loud, looking at the people milling about.
“It’s the weekend.”
“Really? Shit. I’ve lost all sense of direction in my life at the moment.”
“Maybe I can be your compass.” He squeezes my hand.
“I’d very much like that.” I squeeze his hand back, finding it hard not to smile right now. We weave through the crowded sidewalk and head toward a docking area for a dinner cruise. This particular line recently started offering a “late night” dinner for their “guests of the night.” They carry premium bottled blood, both human and animal. I don’t take Lucas to be a bottled blood drinker. He’s never said anything, but I get the feeling he wouldn’t touch that shit unless it was a matter of life or death.
But it’s not like vampires can die.
“Really?” I ask, smile widening.
“I thought you’d like it.”
“I do. I’ve always wanted to go on a dinner cruise.”
&
nbsp; He tips his head down, stealing a kiss. We look like a normal couple, getting on the ship for a fancy and romantic dinner. There are other vampires on this boat, I can sense them, but I’m positive I’m the only witch.
“This view is incredible,” I say once we’re seated at our table.
“Just wait until we leave the shore.”
“Have you been on one of these before?” I ask, looking over the menu.
“No.”
“I wouldn’t have thought so. It doesn’t seem like your thing.”
He leans forward a bit, watching me. “What is my thing?”
Glancing up from the menu, I shake my head. “I’m not really sure. But fancy dinners on Lake Michigan and drinking bottled blood isn’t one of them.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And the other things…I’d like to know about them,” I say.
“Are you afraid you won’t like what you learn?”
“No,” I tell him honestly. “I know who you are. Besides, you’re not the only one who’s done things—bad things. I mean, I haven’t drunk the blood of my enemies, but I’ve messed up a lot. Done things I’m not proud of.”
“But in comparison,” he starts.
“In comparison isn’t fair. You’re like…like…” I pull out my phone, needing my calculator because math and my brain don’t jive. “You’re like sixty-five times my age. Fuck, you’re old,” I whisper, eyes widening. And then I laugh. Lucas laughs too and reaches across the table for my hand again. His index finger goes to the pulse point on my wrist.
“So, for a fair comparison, you need to take a twenty-five-year chunk of your life and use that for reference.”
“The first twenty-five years I was a vampire were filled with bloodshed and revenge. The last twenty-five has been mild.”
I remember Eliza saying he hasn’t seemed like himself for over fifteen years. “All I’m saying is…is…” I wrinkle my nose and start rambling. “I don’t really know. I want to say I don’t judge you for your past, but I do, and I will. Though what happened a few hundred years ago doesn’t mean you’re the same person—sorry, vampire—now. So I guess I’m saying I don’t really know how to judge you so I’d rather not. I’m going off our interactions and so far…so far…”
Dead of Night: Book One in the Thorne Hill Series Page 14
