by Lara Nance
She strolled into the kitchen, noting an empty dishwasher. A recipe for veal scaloppini on the counter waited for Drake to rise and work his kitchen magic. Half the cheesecake remained in the refrigerator. She took it out and placed a slice on a saucer then carried it into the living room.
The creamy richness melted in her mouth spiced by the tang of the strawberries. She felt like a complete jerk. Drake was a thoughtful and pleasant roommate, not to mention a fabulous cook. She’d let Lydia’s story get under her skin. Gerri was right. She couldn’t imagine Drake doing anything to hurt anyone. Her fears seemed ridiculous now.
She finished her cake and went to her bedroom. A nap, a rare luxury, sounded wonderful. It wasn’t until she snuggled under her comforter that she realized she had locked her bedroom door without giving it a thought. She squeezed her pillow in frustration. It was crazy to let the witch’s warning get to her. Her life was better now than it had been in a long time.
Closing her eyes, she refused to think about Drake being a threat any more. But she didn’t unlock her door.
***
“Talia?” Drake’s voice rumbled through her closed door.
She stretched and yawned. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m just taking a nap.”
Silence. Then, “I’m going to start dinner.”
A lingering twinge of guilt tugged at her conscience. She sighed as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She had to put that witch’s crap out of her head. After donning leggings and a long, jade silk shirt, she padded down the hall. The clink of pots met her ears.
“Hey,” she said as she climbed onto a kitchen bar stool.
“Wine?” He smiled.
“Sure.”
He poured them both a glass and pushed hers across the island. “How was work?”
She took a sip. “Leslie had this idea that you should be part of a giveaway contest for the grand opening of the park.”
He paused in lifting his glass to his lips.
She explained about the contest.
He shrugged. “Well, maybe having dinner with the winner wouldn’t be so bad. I don’t want to get into some quasi romantic hoopla though. You know, some sort of vampire Bachelor show.”
She laughed, glad that he shied from the idea of romance with someone else. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
His cell rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. “Hello?” He listened for a minute. “Okay, come on over.”
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Felix. He has the outfit ready for the photo shoot and wants me to try it on.”
“A likely excuse to come and eat.” Talia snorted.
Drake grinned. “I like having Felix and Gerri around. Makes it seem like we’re part of a big family. It’s nice.”
She had to admit, she liked it, too. Funny how her personal life had changed since Drake came to live with her. Her solitary routine of work, work, work had left her empty and she didn’t even realize how much until now.
“Hey, Mom.” Pip straggled into the kitchen still in a pair of flannel Batman pajamas.
“Don’t call me that,” she said to him, then turned to Drake. “Batman?”
He laughed.
Her cell rang, and she went to the living room to find her purse. Gerri’s number showed on the screen.
“Vampire Kitchen Restaurant, would you like to make reservations?” she said.
“You must be feeling better.” Her friend chuckled.
“You were right. I was overreacting.” She glanced toward the kitchen.
“Good. You looked pretty upset this afternoon. I’m glad you’re putting everything in the proper perspective. I don’t think you’re getting enough sleep. You stay up half the night with Drake and go to work, too. Maybe you should try working from home again.”
Talia nodded. That was actually a good idea. “Yeah, I may do that. Thanks.”
“So, um, what’s for dinner?”
“Oh, for goodness sake. Come on over. Felix is on his way, too.” She hit END.
“Gerri’s coming,” she said as she entered the kitchen.
“Yippie,” Pip shouted. “I love Aunt Gerri.”
“Go get dressed and comb your hair, then.” She patted his head.
“Yes, Mo…I mean Your Majesty.” He skipped out of the room.
Drake’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he leaned over the stove. She had to smile. The little imp was really cute in his own weird way, she guessed. But he wasn’t going to call her Mom.
Chapter 24
Nervous jitteriness kept Talia pacing. She couldn’t stand watching Drake and the model together. Anton better hurry or she was going to lose her mind.
Unlike Justin’s place, expensive antiques and paintings decorated Anton’s loft. His wife owned an art gallery, and they invested in artwork as a matter of fact. Wine in crystal decanters scattered around on side tables along with bowels of snacks.
Talia scooped a handful of almonds and poured a glass of wine. Chateau Lafite Rothschild, without question. Anton had very expensive tastes. She had no problem with that. After a couple sips, she slipped into her coat and went to Anton’s tenth-floor balcony.
Felix could oversee filming Drake with a model. She could imagine the scene all too well, him pretending to bite her or just gaze longingly into her eyes, or some such crap. She wouldn’t watch. Maybe that would keep her from having one of her jealousy fits.
Sparkling stars glittered in the night sky, and the blare of honking horns seemed faraway. She leaned over the railing, resting her elbows on cold iron. Her breath came out in white puffs that floated away like a cloud.
With a sigh, she focused on making a mental list of different designs to show the Romanians in a week. She’d keep this account if she had to work night and day.
Fortunately, Harvey agreed to let her work from home. Now she could sleep later and stay up at night without killing herself. Felix liked the plan because it gave him more opportunities to eat Drake’s cooking.
“Okay, we’re wrapping it up in here.” Her assistant poked his head through the opening of the sliding glass door.
“Great. If Anton can get me the digital files, I’ll work on design tomorrow and Sunday. Then Monday, I’ll e-mail everything to Leslie for production of samples.” She followed him inside.
The blond female model stood there in a boobielicious low cut evening gown. She stared at Drake like he was the Messiah. Her long hair hung in perfect waves to her waist. Talia wanted to pull it out by the roots. She moved between them and grabbed Drake’s shoulder to pull him from the shameless hussy.
“Ready to go?” She smiled sweetly and showed her back to the woman.
“Sure, I left chili in the crock pot. I thought it would be nice to have when we got home.” He took off his red satin lined black cape and tossed it to Felix.
“I like chili,” the model said hopefully.
“No, you don’t.” Talia gave her a push in the direction of the dressing room.
Drake laughed. He sizzled in a black velvet jacket with white lace cascading down the front of his shirt. Felix really had a knack for this vampire dressing gig. Drake looked like a hot romantic dream out of a vampire romance novel. He could cook chili, too.
After a brief conversation with Anton about sending the digital files, she packed her briefcase and collected her purse. They headed to the elevator with Felix and Drake debating the types of chili.
“It has to have beans to be chili,” Drake said. “There’s no exception.”
“I had chili in Texas without beans.” Felix punched the elevator button.
“Then it was beef stew or some other aberration.”
They stepped into the elevator and continued the argument. She rolled her eyes. Who cared? However Drake made it, the chili would be delicious.
“We’ll probably have to walk up to the next block to get a cab,” her assistant said. “This street doesn’t have much traffic
.”
They continued to the next street where traffic whizzed by. Streetlights glinted off passing cars, and the sidewalks had a thin trickle of late night partiers headed for home. She glanced at her watch. Three a.m. Damn, they’d been at Anton’s since nine. She was beat.
Drake stepped to the edge of the curb and raised a hand to a taxi that approached slowly and pulled to a stop beside them.
“I’ll catch the next one,” Felix said, fumbling with his backpack. “I left my notebook upstairs.”
“See you later.” Talia followed Drake into the backseat.
He leaned forward and gave the driver their address.
“You new to the area?” the driver asked him in a low voice, as the car moved into traffic.
“No.” Drake settled against the seatback, but his glance at her revealed worry.
“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” The driver glanced in his rearview mirror.
“I doubt it,” Drake said in a clipped tone.
“You look familiar.”
He didn’t answer, but jerked his head toward the driver and reached to take her hand.
They took a right turn. As Talia opened her mouth to tell the driver that she knew the shortest route to her apartment and this wasn’t it, the cab slammed on brakes. Two men dressed in black jeans and hooded sweatshirts yanked open the doors and dragged her and Drake from the car.
The taxi sped away, leaving them on the dark, deserted side street. Drake took his assailant by the arm and slung him against the brick wall of a nearby building. Talia struggled with the man who held her. His hand clamped onto her upper arm like a steel band, easily pulling her into an alley between two buildings. The streetlight was out, and she couldn’t discern his face under the hood.
“Drake,” she screamed and aimed a kick at her attacker’s shin. “Help.”
“Bitch!” The man backhanded her across the face. Blackness closed in on the edges of her vision then cleared. She put her free hand to her stinging cheek. It came back bloody.
Four men poured into the dark alley and pounced on Drake who had gotten the better of his attacker. He didn’t stand a chance against five, however. She wobbled from the blow to her head, and landed a weak punch to the man’s chest. Ignoring it, he pushed her toward a door in the side of a dilapidated brick building with boarded windows.
“Let go of me, you jerk,” she yelled.
He hit her again. Pain seared her cheek, and her vision dimmed. She barely made out a red circle painted on the door as ice cold fingers clamped over her mouth.
***
“Talia?”
A cool hand touched her forehead. She fluttered her eyelids. A stab of pain cut into her temple, and she moaned.
“Are you all right?” Drake knelt on the chilly concrete floor and cradled her against his chest.
She opened her eyes. The room tilted a few times then settled. His concerned face hovered inches from hers. Above his head, a single light bulb with a pull string dangling from it provided sparse illumination. The far corners of the room remained dim and shadowy.
“Why did those guys attack us?” She fought a wave of nausea.
“We were ambushed by a gang of vampires.”
“Damn it.” She squeezed her eyelids shut and reopened them. The same dirty dim room as the last time she looked. Metal shelves of old paint cans lined one of the cinder block walls. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere in the basement of an abandoned building.”
She struggled to sit and stared at him. A healing cut ran across the top of his left eye, and a streak of blood marked the lace at his throat. “Are you hurt?”
“Not now. Seems I heal very quickly.” He gave her a half smile.
“I remember you fighting them. You were amazing.” She touched his cheek, a thrill of pride running through her. He’d hurled vampires right and left, but they’d overpowered him in the end. “I was so afraid for you.”
“For me?” He laughed. “You got tossed about a bit, too.” His expression hardened as he touched a tender place on her cheek. “I wanted to kill them for hurting you.”
She winced even as her heart flipped and heat flamed her skin. She brushed her hair from her face to regain her composure. This was not the time to indulge her crazy attraction. “Why didn’t they kill us?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced around the room. “We should try to escape.”
“Help me up.” She gathered her legs under her.
He stood and grasped her hands, pulling her to her feet. She held onto his arm and scanned the area. A stack of cardboard boxes sat in one corner. Above it, an iron grate was cemented into the cinder blocks. Three steps up from the floor, a heavy wooden door provided the only exit. Just for the heck of it, she tugged on the handle. Of course it was locked.
“They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” She backed from the door.
“I’m curious why they haven’t already,” he said.
“It almost seemed as if that taxi was looking for us. Did you see how slow it was going when you flagged it? That’s not normal for a New York cab.”
He rubbed his chin. “I wondered why he asked if we’d met before. On top of that, I experienced a strange sense of aversion when we entered the cab. Now I know why. But how would they know where we were?”
“And why did they want to capture us?”
“I think it has to be Maron’s group.”
Cold dampness crept into her bones. She wrapped her arms around her chest and shivered. Fear traced icy fingers down her spine. If ever there was a pile of crap, this was it.
“If they come in here, I’m going to attack them.” He clenched his hands into fists at his sides.
“No!” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Let’s see what they want first. Please?”
He stared at her with narrowed eyes then looked down, his expression unreadable.
Her insides churned.
He turned in a circle then pointed to the grate. “Maybe there’s a way to remove that grille. There could be a path through air ducts.”
She clamped her arms around her chest, shivering from cold. “I’m open to any suggestions. Give it a try.”
He stepped atop one of the cardboard boxes stacked beneath the rusted metal vent. The box gave way slightly under his weight but didn’t collapse. He climbed to the top of the pile and thrust his fingers through the square openings made by half inch thick crossed bars.
After several tugs, he dropped his arms and shook his head. He spread his arms to balance as he descended the heap and landed back on the floor. “It’s stronger than it looks. The bars are sunk into concrete around the opening.”
She sat on a box, hands on her knees. Defeat was alien to her. She’d always gotten what she wanted by hard work and perseverance, or money. None of that would work in this situation. Drake’s face reflected the same frustration.
He sat beside her. “You’re cold. They took your coat.”
“Yeah, I guess our hosts didn’t care if our stay was pleasant or not.”
“Joking, Talia? Even when we’re about to die? I admire that.” He chuckled. He removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “Here, I don’t need this.”
“When it comes to the dying part, I’ll probably scream like a big baby. Right now, though, I want to believe there’s a way out of this mess.” His coat helped stop her shivering. She could almost feel her fingers tucked into her arm pits. “They could’ve already killed us if they’d wanted. If we can figure out why, maybe we can use it against them.”
He yawned and leaned against the boxes behind him. Talia glanced at her watch. Damn. Five-thirty. The sun was about to rise. He was going into sleep mode. Already his eyelids drooped halfway over his eyes.
“Drake, it’s almost morning.”
“I know. I feel the pull of sleep. I’m sorry, Tal.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, seated on the
smashed down stack of boxes.
“Sorry?” she murmured against his neck, her head buried in the curve of his shoulder. The scent of his skin reminded her of snow, clean and cold. It intoxicated her and lulled her into a false sense of security. They still faced a dismal fate, but she could stay like this forever.
“I’ve failed you. I told you I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” He stroked her hair.
Shivers ran through her that had nothing to do with his cool body. In fact, his closeness had the opposite effect. Heat pooled in her core and radiated to her limbs. She edged closer. He pressed his hands to her back, molding her against his hard chest.
A low moan escaped his lips, so soft it could’ve been a creak from the old boxes they crushed. It came from him because the breath that formed it tickled the strands of hair across her ear. She raised her head, and his gaze seared hers. Warmth and desire pulsed in the dark depths of the amber.
“You didn’t fail me. I’m still alive,” she whispered.
His brow furrowed, and he cupped her cheek. “I don’t understand my feelings for you, Talia. You’ve become such a part of me that I don’t think I could live without you.” He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead.
The heat from that kiss sent fire burning through her veins. She sighed, and searched his eyes for some truth she could hold onto—some meaning to this bizarre attraction. Maybe the witch had it right.
“Do you feel that way, too?” he asked. “I sense something in you that calls to me. It’s disturbing. Sometimes it’s so strong I’m terrified it’s a desire to drink your blood. But I could never do that. You believe me?”
“Yes, I know that.” Her eyes dropped to his lips.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of you afraid of me.” His voice turned deep, husky. He trailed his fingers from her cheek around her neck, stroking the soft hairs of her nape.
“Strangely, I’m not afraid of death by vampire.” She trailed a hand across his shoulder, tracing his hard muscles.
