Isa snorted in a very unfeminine fashion. “How? Are you a world-renowned hypnotist?”
Chance didn’t laugh. “Something like that.”
She stared for a different reason this time. He was serious. Good Lord, maybe he was a dangerous crazy person. Where had her grandmother dug him up from, anyway?
“You should go now,” Isa said slowly. “And once again I’m going to tell you to stay out of this. You don’t understand what Robert’s like if you think you can hocus-pocus your way around him. He’ll kill you. He’ll bury you right next to Jimmy Hoffa and no one will ever find your body, got it?”
Chance sighed. “Would a demonstration make you feel better?”
Demonstration? “Um, of what, exactly?”
“My hocus-pocus abilities, as you call them.”
Isa shifted. This was getting weirder by the minute. “Look, why don’t you just go…”
“You can open your eyes now.”
Isa blinked—and then jerked back in shock. She was on the chair with Chance. On his lap, to be more precise, with her arms around his neck and her mouth mere inches from his. Holy shit, how the hell did that happen?
Chance watched Isa scramble off him, her knuckles white as she clutched her robe. She backed away several feet, looking around her bedroom as if expecting to see someone else there.
“What did you do to me? How did I end up on your lap?” she demanded.
It would be so much easier to tell her the truth. To show her the truth, since once he said, “I’m a vampire,” she’d just insist on proof anyway. But the suspicion in her gaze stopped him. Well, that, and the simple fact that he wanted Isa to get to know him better before she found out what he was. Chance had lived long enough to recognize what was stirring in him—and to appreciate that it didn’t happen often.
Sure, he’d been attracted to her since the first night he watched her, then he’d grown to like her for her spunk and bravery, but that wasn’t what was rare. It was the additional feeling she inspired. The one of connection, like she was someone who should be part of his life. Some people called it chemistry, others called it infatuation, some even called it fate. Chance didn’t care what name was stuck on it. He only knew it was real.
And she felt something for him, too. He could smell it in the way her scent changed around him, the way her heart beat faster when he stared at her, and the way her body leaned toward his even as her eyes were rimmed with caution. Oh, part of that was just the attraction of a compatible woman to a compatible man, but there was more as well. Chance intended to find out how much more, and then he’d show her what he was, because he wasn’t going to hide himself from her for much longer.
“I used my hocus-pocus and hypnotized you,” he replied. It was mostly true. He just wasn’t going to elaborate that his power was derived from being a vampire.
“You hypnotized me?” she repeated. “With what?”
He shrugged. “My gaze and my voice.” Again, true enough.
Isa began to pace. “This is too weird. You’re some kind of wacko David Copperfield and my grandmother hired you to abracadabra my brother safely back?”
“I told you this wasn’t about money,” Chance corrected.
“Whatever!” Isa said. Then her gaze narrowed. “You didn’t do anything perverted while I was on your lap, did you?”
Chance folded his arms across his chest. “If you think I’m some lowlife scum who’d coerce a woman into doing something sexual against her will, then I suggest you do call the police. I had you come over to me because it proved that I can do what I claim I can do. You certainly wouldn’t have perched on my knee of your own inclination just then, would you? But that was all you did, Isa, and my hands remained at my sides the entire time.”
He locked his gaze with hers until she looked away, but the suspicion had left her eyes. There was still confusion, yes, and a healthy dose of wariness…but no more angry accusation.
Isa flounced on the side of her bed. “So…you can walk up to Robert and um, hypnotize him into telling you where Frazier is?”
“Yes,” Chance said simply.
She chewed her lip. It had been over two weeks since her brother last contacted her. Even if he had managed to sneak away to make that phone call, maybe he’d been caught and dragged back. All the uncertainty over her brother’s fate made Isa reckless. She couldn’t just sit back and accept Robert’s assurances that Frazier was okay. If all she had on her side right now was a trespassing honor-bound hypnotist—well. She’d just have to make the best of it.
“Assuming you can do that, Frazier’s got to be guarded. You’re pretty good with your little trick one on one, obviously, but up against several mini-gangsters with guns? You’d get shot before you even got near Frazier. Or the two of you would get shot before you managed to get away. We need to coordinate when this is going to happen. Robert’s house is huge, and he likes to keep things close to him, so you should check for Frazier there first. I can go over to Robert’s and leave a door open or something. Then I can, um, distract him while you sneak up on him and try your David Copperfield act.”
“Isa…that’s very brave of you, but it’s not necessary. I can get in Robert’s house with very little effort, and neither he nor his men will be able to keep me from leaving.”
“Your arrogance could get my brother killed!” she snapped. “Excuse me if I’m not comfortable with that!”
He met her gaze very steadily. “I’ve done this before. My sire trusts me. Your grandmother trusts me. You’re going to have to trust me as well.”
She gave him a hard look. One that said she wasn’t used to trusting anyone but herself. Chance could appreciate that. He’d lived with it as his credo for most of his human twenty-seven years.
“Look at it this way,” he urged her next. “Where are you now? Dependent on Robert’s very questionable mercy that he won’t kill your brother, that’s where. You’re using the only bargaining chip you have—yourself—to ensure Frazier’s safety, but Robert still holds all the cards. You need to have an ace up your sleeve that Robert won’t expect. Well, Isabella, I am that ace, and you can trust that Robert will never expect me at all.”
“I’m doing okay,” she replied with obvious defensiveness. “I didn’t see you at the restaurant earlier deflating Robert’s hard-on!”
A grin touched Chance’s mouth. “Ah, yes. Your galloping yeast infection. A very clever move. I’m sure Mini-Mob won’t be able to get it up for days.”
“Mini-Mob?” Isa laughed. Chance enjoyed seeing her face light up with it. “An Austin Powers fan, are you?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Wait a minute.” Isa’s laughter cleared at once. “How did you know that? You weren’t there. How could you possibly know that?”
Because I’d been on the roof of the building across the street, listening to you all night. And I almost swooped down and ripped Robert’s balls off with my bare hands when I heard him suggest that you were going home with him. Robert should thank his lucky stars you had your fake yeast infection as a shield, or he’d never become a father.
But Chance couldn’t say that, of course. He couldn’t tell Isa that he’d been watching her long past what his initial reconnaissance had required. Or that while she’d been in the shower earlier, he’d lain in her bed just so her scent could wrap all around him.
Yes, whatever word applied to Chance’s condition, he had it bad.
“I was following Robert for a chance to get him alone,” was what Chance settled on. “So I was near enough to the restaurant earlier to hear what happened. None of them ever knew, and neither did you. I’ve had some practice with this, Isabella. You can trust me.”
He so very much wanted her to trust him, because his deliberate vagueness and these multiple unfinished sentences were wearing. If there was one thing he’d learned in his century-plus of living, it was that honesty was a cornerstone in a relationship. Women would forgive many things, but lies were at the top of t
heir list for unpardonable sins. If Isa demanded more direct answers from him, Chance would give them to her. No matter if she was ready to hear them or not.
She chewed on her lip again. Chance watched her and wanted to do the same.
He might be having that “so I’m a vampire,” conversation sooner rather than later with her. Inhaling the fragrance of her arousal earlier had almost outed him from his coffin, because he’d felt his eyes start to change and fangs press lustfully against his gums of their own accord. Even now, his blood wanted to rush to a particular place, and Chance had to concentrate to send it elsewhere. He pitied human men who had no control over that. The ability to direct his blood where he wanted it to go was just another perk of being a vampire. It beat the hell out of walking around trying to conceal a hard-on, and on the flip side, no vampire ever had to worry about impotence.
“Okay,” Isa said finally. “I’ll let you try to work your mojo on Robert to locate my brother, but if you find out where he is, you call me, understand? Because if something goes wrong—”
“Nothing will,” Chance interrupted her firmly.
She gave him that look again. The one that said plenty of things had gone wrong in her life. Chance remembered reading that her parents died in a small plane crash while vacationing in the Bahamas when Isa was just thirteen. Her grandmother had been the one to raise her and Frasier. Yes, Isa would have learned young that life promised no happy endings, but in this case, Chance could at least promise he wouldn’t make any mistakes with Frazier.
If he was even still alive.
Chance pushed that thought away. He’d assume Frazier was alive until he was shown his dead body. The fact that Ritchie and Paul hadn’t known where he was when he asked them the other night—not that they remembered the body they’d wrapped in plastic had sat up and interrogated them, of course—concerned Chance. He would have thought Robert’s top two meatheads would have been privy to that information, but maybe Robert played things closer to the vest. It would be smart of him, considering how weak-minded Smelly and Bowling Ball were. Robert himself was made of sterner stuff. Chance figured he’d have to drink his blood first to get what he wanted out of him, whereas Ritchie and Paul only required the light in his gaze to spill their secrets.
“Nothing will go wrong,” Chance repeated, and meant it. If Frazier Spaga was still alive, he’d bring him back that way to his sister. If he was already dead…then Chance would see to it that everyone who’d had a part in his demise met the same fate as well.
Isa gave him a level look. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Chapter 4
Isa sat across from her grandmother and watched as she made tea. It was their Saturday afternoon ritual that Isa would have gladly done herself, but her grandmother was still fiercely independent and wouldn’t hear of it. Her only capitulation to Isa’s concerns about her health was to wear the LifeCall alert Isa had gotten her. Isa noted her thinness and the translucence of her flesh that was common with advanced age, and had to blink back tears.
She’ll be gone soon, Isa thought with a stab of grief. It was doubly hard, since her grandmother had been both mother and father to her since Isa was thirteen, and Frazier even younger at nine. Then a mere five years after her parents had died, Isa’s grandfather passed as well.
Some people would be broken from grief, but Greta Spaga dried her tears after her husband’s funeral and said that death was simply part of life. That prolonged mourning only stole the good memories of the person who was gone. Isa doubted she’d have the same strength.
Now, over ten years later, Frazier was missing and Isa would have agreed to almost anything to keep her grandmother from facing another crushing family loss. The old woman might be strong as steel emotionally, but there was still only so much one person could take.
There was only so much Isa could take as well. Robert never said the words directly, but Isa knew that her brother wasn’t the only collateral he was holding against her. She’d seen Paul and Ritchie drive by her grandmother’s a few times when they knew Isa was there to spot them. Their actions screamed that more than Frazier would pay if Isa refused to do what Robert wanted.
“Here you are,” her grandmother said, setting down Isa’s cup of tea.
“So tell me about Chance,” she said, trying to distract herself and genuinely wanting to know more about the sexy oddball.
Her grandmother smiled as she set her own cup down with more of a clatter.
“Downright tasty looking, isn’t he?” Greta asked slyly.
Isa almost choked on a swallow. There was no mistaking the wicked note to her grandmother’s voice.
“I meant, where’d you meet him? What does he do for a living? And how long have you known about Frazier, while we’re at it?”
“Hmm, where’d I meet Chance? A long time ago in Louisiana. What does he do for a living?” Greta paused to cackle. “He doesn’t do anything for a living, dear. How long have I known about Frazier? Since he didn’t call me on Tuesday three weeks ago to check in. Frazier always calls me on Tuesdays. He hasn’t missed one in the past five years.”
Isa’s mouth dropped. Her brother Frazier, who couldn’t remember anyone’s birthday and who hadn’t held a steady job since Melrose Place was a hit, called their grandmother faithfully every Tuesday?
Greta tsked. “Don’t look so shocked. Frazier’s a bit high-strung, but so was I at his age. He’s settled down a lot, Isa. You shouldn’t judge him so harshly.”
Now Isa did choke on her tea, lightly spraying herself with it. Once she’d regained her breath, she was glad it happened. Or she might have shouted, “High-strung? Associating with crime lords is a bit more than high-strung!”
But her grandmother didn’t need the added worry of learning about how Frazier had cozened up to Robert these past few months. Hell, Isa had Frazier to thank for the fact that Robert had even stepped foot in her restaurant in the first place. Sure, Frazier tried to dissuade Robert once he saw the interest Robert immediately took in her, but by then, it had been too late.
“Tell me more about Chance,” Isa managed. Anything except how Frazier was a misunderstood softie.
Her grandmother stared at her without speaking for so long, Isa repeated the question, thinking maybe her hearing was finally slipping.
“Oh, I heard you the first time,” Greta said, still studying her. “You’ve always been such a serious child. Why, you stopped believing in Santa Claus way before your other friends did, and once your parents died, you stopped believing in a lot more things, didn’t you?”
“What does this have to do with Chance?” Isa asked, squirming under that too-knowing pale brown gaze.
“A lot,” her grandmother replied sharply. “Once your parents were dead, you stopped believing in people themselves. That’s why you withdrew from all your friends. That’s why you’ve never let any of your boyfriends get close to you, and that’s also why I haven’t told you certain things that otherwise, you would know by now.”
Isa stood, looking at her watch with a fake expression of regret. Yes, she’d wanted to find out more about Chance, but not at the price of ripping open wounds she’d tried so hard to forget were there.
“Sorry I can’t stay, but I’m supposed to open the restaurant today. That’s right, Frank…Frank said he had an appointment. I have to go.”
Her grandmother snorted, as eloquent as a twenty-minute dissertation on how Isa was full of shit.
“Fine, go. But before you do, I’ll say one thing about Chance: Don’t think the world contains only what you’ve been taught at school. Oh no, my dear. That’s just the first layer of it.”
Isa gave her a kiss and then got out of there as fast as possible. It would have been easier if her grandmother was wrong, instead of all too accurately nailing her with observations Isa would just as soon not acknowledge.
Chance was outside waiting for Isa when she locked up later that night. He saw her start in surprise when she spotted him leaning aga
inst the far side of her restaurant’s building, and then the tension left her shoulders.
“You scared me,” she said accusingly.
He cast a meaningful look around at the almost empty parking lot and the deep shadows where the streetlights failed to penetrate.
“As well you should be wary. You’re a beautiful young woman walking without an escort at one in the morning. Why doesn’t one of your staff at least see you to you car?”
“Because they’re not sexist pigs who think women are incapable of taking care of themselves.”
Chance rolled his eyes. “This has nothing to do with feminism. I’m all for gender equality, but the fact remains that women are targeted for more specific crimes than men, and the perpetrators of those crimes often look for circumstances such as these to attack.”
“See this?” Isa pulled something dark and oblong out of her purse. Chance’s mouth twitched.
“Turbo Vagisil?”
“No, it’s a taser!” Isa said indignantly. “I can take care of myself, Chance. I’ve been doing that just fine for the past twenty-nine and a half years before you showed up, remember?”
He’d forgotten how hard it was to start a relationship. Casual dating, casual sex, or casual bloodletting was easy, but this? Chance figured it was a good thing he wasn’t growing any older.
“Of course,” he said, reminding himself that what was once considered polite concern for a lady’s well-being was now obviously cause for insult. “But if it’s all right with you, I’d like to walk you to your car. I mean no disrespect and I am fully aware that you can take care of yourself. May I?”
Isa hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
Chance took her arm when she drew even with him. She looked like she might pull away, but then she relaxed and kept it curled around his. Now he could feel her pulse speed up as well as hear it, and he found himself staring at her profile. Her black hair had been up in a neat twist at the beginning of the evening, but now it was coming loose with long pieces falling over her shoulders. She was chewing on her lower lip again, worrying it faintly between her teeth as they walked. Chance’s tongue traced his lower lip as he watched, imagining it was hers instead and wondering how she tasted.
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