* * *
“Stop fidgeting,” Christian murmured.
Heather tucked her hands between her thighs. “Sorry.” She stared out her window at the dark woods blurring past. She wrinkled her nose. “Why is it out here in the middle of nowhere?”
Christian chuckled as he gave her a quick sideways glance. “What’s wrong with out here?”
She turned to get a good look at him and decided she liked the relaxed bemusement on his face. It was so much better than the broody control he usually wore. And it meant she was safe to speak her mind, for the moment. She shrugged, picking a piece of lint off her trousers. And he was doing this for her. That meant everything.
“I like the sparkle of the city. This feels dark and,” she glanced out the window and then back at Christian, “creepy.”
Christian burst out laughing. “It’s just trees, Heather.”
“Too many places to hide.”
Christian ran a hand through his hair. “The city is more dangerous.”
“So you say.” She crossed her arms under her chest and sighed.
Christian’s hand slid up the inside of her thigh, “Do that again.”
She blinked, confused. “Do what again?” She pressed her hand over his, pausing its egress.
“Sigh like that.”
She laughed at his devilish grin and exhaled a happy sigh. All signs indicated it was going to be a good night. Christian waggled his eyebrows. Her chest heaved and she laughed harder, glancing down at her V-neck top, suddenly quite sure what had sparked his mood. He flipped his turn signal on as they passed a large sign for the ashram, and Heather shook her head.
Who was there to signal to on this lonely, twisted road? But she didn’t say anything. He was in his happy place and she wanted to keep him there. No sense taking unnecessary chances. The Cayenne crunched over the gravel driveway for a long while, the road turning up the mountain. Heather involuntarily grabbed the oh-shit handle as they bounced over a rise.
“Katie said the road was just recently put in up here and might be—”
“I’ve got this, Heather.” Christian shifted gears and from his boyish grin, she figured he was enjoying getting a chance to use the four-wheel drive.
Glancing over at her pale face and wide eyes, he rubbed a reassuring hand over her thigh. He revved the engine and she could have sworn they went airborne over the next rise. Gravel sprayed, rapping on the undercarriage as Heather’s head bounced off the ceiling.
“Knock it off, Christian!” She rubbed her neck and glared at him.
“Oh, lighten up. You’re fine.” He downshifted with a self-satisfied smirk.
They passed the small cottage Katie said was Loti and Wolf’s place. Heather stared at the dark glass and wondered how a vampire could live in that fishbowl. She swiveled around as the car stopped in front of Calisto’s house. It reminded her of the picture of an Antebellum style home her mother had painted in watercolors one summer. She’d told Heather it was her childhood home.
Calisto’s porch wrapped all the way around the front and sides, but the strange part? Half the house appeared to be embedded into the side of the mountain. Christian cut the engine and took her hand.
“Let me lead the conversation, please.” He kissed her knuckles and she nodded, her gaze still fixed on the strangely inviting house.
Before they were out of the car, the front door opened and a swarm of people buzzed over the porch. Laughter and conversation bubbled from the group like champagne. The night was warm and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves.
Heather took a deep breath and hoped for the best. What would it be like to have so many friends? She had a few here and there over the years, like the girls at the club, but nothing like this. They seemed more like a big family than a nest of vampires.
“Hello!” A dark-haired gentleman in flowing kurta pajamas raised a hand to them. The hem of the traditional Indian shirt brushed his knees, and his dark, bare feet poked out from under the white pants.
Christian waved back and called to them in a jovial tone, “Hello! We’re looking for Calisto.” Heather bit her lip.
“You have found him.” The man in white grinned wide and sauntered down the steps. “Katie is inside. She’ll be out in a minute. She’s helping my Margarite with the food.”
The two vampires shook hands while Heather stood to the side, gripping one elbow. She wasn’t shy, for the most part, but her witchy senses hummed with the energy of the group on the porch. And although her instincts told her this could be good night, she wasn’t ready to relax her guard.
“Christian Harris. And this is Heather MacGregor.” Christian gestured to Heather and she put on her best pleased-to-meet-you smile.
Calisto reached for Heather’s hand, but she was so over-whelmed by the power radiating off the vampire that she didn’t respond right away. Christian frowned and with an edge of warning to his tone spoke her name. “Heather.”
With a barely discernible shake she offered the dark, handsome vampire her hand. “Pleased to meet you.” Calisto wrapped both his hands around her delicate one.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” His eyes gleamed down at her.. His was the most inviting face she’d ever laid eyes on.
She relaxed into a genuine smile. “All good, I hope.”
There was something about him. She tilted her head at the strange sensation of peace wafting from him like a perfume.
“Absolutely all good.” He kissed the back of her hand.
She wondered if all vampires did that. He released her hand, his eyes lingering on her a second more, then he turned back to Christian.
“And your reputation precedes you, sir.” His tone hid something funny.
Christian arched his brow and tilted his chin down. “All good I hope.” Nervous apprehension crawled up Heather’s back.
Calisto laughed. “Mostly.”
“Heather!” Rachel bounded down the steps and grabbed her by the hand. “Come on. I want you to meet everyone.”
She hesitated as Rachel tugged, looking back at Christian. “I’m fine, darling. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” Heather glanced from the smiling Calisto to the suddenly unreadable Christian. What had he locked down about?
“All men are moody, puddin’. Don’t let your guard down. Ever.”
“All right.” She drew out the words, but couldn’t help grinning as Rachel dragged her into the happy crowd.
It was refreshing to be among such high spirits. She let down her guard a little at a time as Rachel whirled her through the introductions. Somewhere along the way someone pressed a glass of wine into her hand and she drank it all before she knew it. A woman with short, dark hair poured her another glass.
“Thank you…ummm…” Heather fumbled for the woman’s name, pressing the wine glass to her cheek.
“Fiamette.” She spoke with a hint of an accent that Heather couldn’t quite place. Spanish? Italian? Heather wasn’t sure what to make of the woman’s tight smile, either, but she liked her outfit.
“Fiamette. Right. I’m so sorry. It’s a little overwhelming meeting all these people at once.”
She nodded as she sipped her wine and crossed the other arm over her chest. “Yes, it is.”
Heather smiled expectantly, but when the woman didn’t add to the conversation, she glanced around for Rachel.
“How long have you been with your vamp?”
Heather jerked her gaze back to Fiamette. How did she know Christian was a vampire? They probably all know who we are and our backstory, stupid. She shook her head at herself. What was she so suspicious about?
“Not long, actually. A few months.”
Fiamette nodded. “He seems…nice.” But her tone said she wasn’t quite sure of her own choice of adjective. She sipped her wine as she looked Heather up and down. “You must be blood bonded.”
Heather didn’t like the direction this awkward exchange was going. These weren’t casual conversation starters. “That’s getting a little
personal, don’t you think?”
Fiamette laughed, one corner of her mouth lifting. “Oh, you’re going to need to get used to up close and personal around here.” She gave Heather a glance from head to toe and back up again, then poured herself another glass of wine.
Heather studied Fiamette’s body language, trying to get a read on the puzzling woman. What was her angle? Well, turnabout was fair play, wasn’t it?
“What are you, if I may ask?” It was a total no-no to ask, but as far as Heather was concerned, the dark-haired beauty had opened herself up to scrutiny. Tit for tat, right?
Fiamette paused with her wine glass to her lips, then she took a long drink. “I’m a healer.”
“Are you going to introduce me, Fia?” A man with blond curls slid an arm around Fiamette’s waist from behind.
She looked at him askance, frowning as he rested his chin on her shoulder, but she didn’t remove his arm or say a word. The man grinned over Fiamette’s shoulder.
“I guess I’ll have to introduce myself.” He reluctantly let go of Fia and held out his hand. “I’m Keane, one of Calisto’s vampires.”
Heather shook his hand, admiring his subtle good looks. He wasn’t as striking as her Christian, but few were. He had a gentle good humor about him that Heather envied, and it was not lost on her that he had announced he was vampire and revealed his maker, both frowned upon in vampire circles.
Despite the fact that American vampires were required to register their progeny and the government issued the equivalent of birth certificates, the information was not in the public domain. It was a compromise reached long ago between the human government and the vampire hierarchy.
Remembering her manners, she said, “I’m Heather MacGregor.”
“Heather, come on. I want you to meet Guided.” Rachel appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her hand, whisking her away. She glanced over her shoulder. Keane was running a hand down Fiamette’s arm and she was rolling her eyes at him, but he got a little grin out of her.
* * *
An hour passed before Heather caught up with Christian in Calisto’s living room. She was giddy with wine and socializing.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” she chided, dancing playful fingers across his shoulder. Despite her efforts to control her expression, the wine torqued her smile.
“I’ve been right here.” His smile seemed genuine enough as he pulled her down to the couch. “Talking with Calisto.”
The room swayed a bit as she relaxed into the plush couch next to Christian. He rested a hand on her leg. Her fingers stroked absent circles over his thigh.
“Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?” Calisto leaned back in his chair, a half-full glass in one hand.
“Yes! So much.” She giggled behind her fingers. “Although, I think I had a little more wine than I planned.”
Christian laughed, kissed her cheek, and put his arm around her shoulders. Whatever trepidation she’d had about Christian not liking her drinking.
“Too easy to do around here some nights.” Calisto leaned conspiratorially toward her, cupping his wine glass with both hands. Heather mimicked him. “Don’t tell the ashram council. I have enough problems with them already,” he whispered.
She grinned as he sat back chuckling at himself. He popped out of his seat as a petite blonde entered the room, somehow managing not to spill his wine. “Have you met my Margarite?” He hugged her with one arm and kissed her cheek.
She practically glowed as she held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Heather stood up. When she grasped Margarite’s hand, the tell-tale tingle of magic crept up her forearm. She and Rachel had been working on this scanning technique recently, so she recognized it immediately. Surprised, she glanced down at their hands, then back up at Margarite.
“Katie’s instincts never fail,” Margarite said. “You have great potential.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “Katie said that? About me?”
“Of course, my dear. She wouldn’t have invited you to join her coven otherwise.”
Heather stared for a moment, wondering if it was okay to ask the inappropriate question in her mind. She wouldn’t have even considered it in any other circumstances, but the night’s conversations led her to believe the same rules didn’t apply here.
She glanced at Christian, who gazed up at her with a soft smile. Her curiosity won out. “I’m not sure what you are. I mean, you feel like a healer, but I also felt something stronger.”
Margarite smiled like a pleased school teacher. “Yes. You are quite right. You will discover that the boundaries and definitions we have been taught aren’t real.”
“What does that mean?” Heather frowned, fingering her bottom lip. Maybe she had stepped over some boundary, but it was hard to know where the limits were here. “What are you?”
“Heather,” Christian chided.
She started, glancing over her shoulder at him. He stood so close she wondered how she hadn’t noticed his approach. He was practically breathing down her neck.
“It’s alright, Christian.” Margarite poured herself a glass of wine. “I scanned her without permission, so I’m happy to answer her questions.” She sipped. “I apologize. I don’t do it on purpose, really I don’t. It’s so habitual and natural now, I do it without thinking. Not an excuse, I know.”
“Please sit. Get comfortable,” Calisto chimed in. “More wine?” He took the bottle from Margarite and topped off his glass.
Heather waved a hand. “No, thank you. I’ve had plenty.”
“I’ll have some more.” Christian held out his glass and Calisto topped it off.
Margarite settled on the arm of Calisto’s overstuffed chair. “And to answer your question, I don’t know what I am. I only know that I can both practice magic like a witch and heal like a healer.”
“That’s fascinating.” Heather settled back onto the couch next to Christian.
Christian cleared his throat, took Heather’s hand. “I’ve been asking Calisto about his nest and their ways.”
“Yes, about our practices. How we control our darker nature.”
Christian’s hand slid absently along her thigh, and Heather forced herself to listen to what they were saying. Her thigh tingled at his touch, and it didn’t stop with her thigh.
“Um hmm,” she covered his hand with hers to make him stop. He glanced down and half grinned. He knew how she reacted to his touch.
“It’s a combination of things, really. Ancient yoga practices, as well as harnessing the right energies to balance out our lopsided dosha.”
“Dosha?” Heather had never heard the word before.
“From Ayurveda, an ancient medicinal practice,” Calisto waved a hand. “Your dosha is your mind-body type. In Ayurveda wellbeing is defined as a healthy balance between mind, body, and the environment. And for humans, it is possible to create a vibrant state of health with Ayurvedic principles.
“But with vampires,” Christian jumped in, “it’s less dynamic, harder to achieve and maintain.”
“Health? But vampires are in perfect health.” Heather’s eyes darted from Christian to Calisto. “Why bother?”
“Remember, I said a balance between mind, body and environment.” Calisto sipped his wine, his gaze unfocused as he continued. “Vampires are cursed with a malevolence to their nature. There is something in us that pushes toward the cruel and we have difficulty controlling our impulses.”
Christian nodded, shifting forward in his seat. His eyes were bright. “Yes, yet you seem to have mastered yours.” He drained his glass. “Dare I say—conquered your dark side?”
Calisto laughed, set his glass down. “It’s something I work on every day of my undead existence.”
“But you practically exude peacefulness, calm.” Christian stood up, paced over to the cold fireplace and then held still as he faced them. “Don’t dismiss it. It’s remarkable.”
Calisto regarded Christian with a twinkle in
his eye. “You didn’t think it was possible, did you?”
Christian ran a hand through his hair, and Heather caught her breath at the raw hope in his eyes. Until that moment, she hadn’t understood the depth of his struggle, nor had it occurred to her that Christian might be at war with his own nature.
She had been so hurt when he lashed out the other day, because she thought he didn’t care enough about her to control himself. Worse, she had started to consider that as wonderful as Christian was, she brought out the worst in him. She regarded her lover with new eyes. How naive she had been.
“No, frankly, I didn’t.” Christian resumed his pacing, his hand darting up to push his bangs to the side several times.
Calisto narrowed his eyes. “Someone told you it wasn’t possible, didn’t they?”
Christian’s face closed and the beauty in his eyes retreated. The bottom of Heather’s stomach fell out. Don’t shut down, Christian. Don’t.
“Like you said, vampires have cruel tendencies.” Christian’s tone was wary now as he flicked a flippant hand. “It’s our nature.”
“Someone you trusted told you we couldn’t control our nature.” Calisto’s face hardened into bitter angles.
Margarite laid a hand on Calisto’s shoulder. He glanced up at her. His expression loosened at whatever thought they were exchanging. Heather assumed they could read each other’s thoughts, because how else could so much pass between them?
“I am sorry, friend. I have crossed a line.” Calisto set his wine glass on the table and stood. “Please don’t let my poor etiquette derail our conversation You came here for help. Let me help you.”
Christian gave him a tight smile. “No harm, no foul.” But Heather knew that tone far too well. She pressed her hand to her stomach, suddenly feeling the wine in a bad way.
Calisto proceeded with caution. “What I was trying to say is, I have found that well-meaning sires instruct their progeny about the importance of controlling their expressions for the sake of the hierarchy, but that controlling certain impulses was either impossible or unnecessary.”
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