Dr. Johnston brightened immediately.
“I knew I could count on you,” he said excitedly.
“There's a limo waiting for you outside. Allow me to escort you out.”
A limo? This was all getting to be a bit too much. She wanted to ask him if he knew anything about this man, if there was anything she should look out for, but before she knew it he had whisked her out and whisked himself right back in again, leaving himself conveniently unavailable for questioning.
The driver opened the door for her with a courteous bow and waited for her to climb in before closing it gently behind her. She felt a curdle of panic welling in her chest but told herself that it would be all right. There was always her self-defense moves if anything got too creepy. And lunch would likely be in a public place.
The limo took a detour out of the town and into the city half an hour away, pausing to be allowed into the entrance so that the driver could drop her off. The blood left her face – they were at one of the most high-end establishments in the country.
“There has to be a mistake,” she said to the driver, her voice pleading. “I'm in jeans and a t-shirt. I can't go in there! Take me home.”
“Sorry miss, there's no mistake,” he said, tipping his hat apologetically. “Go inside and tell them your name. It should be prearranged.”
She sighed heavily. She had gone this far, she might as well cross fine dining off her bucket list. As long as the old creep didn't expect her to sleep with him, she would probably be all right. And if he still pulled his funding for the children's ward, well, she would just have to paint the rooms herself. Or have Brandon do it. She wasn't going to compromise herself for anybody.
She awkwardly introduced herself, trying to ignore anyone who might be looking down on her attire, and was promptly led to a staircase. She followed reluctantly, and then inhaled sharply. The top room was filled wall-to wall with aquariums, lit brightly. There were no windows, but the ambiance was stunning. Suddenly, her heart skipped a beat and she had to keep herself from gasping, whether in pleasure or in fear she couldn't tell. There was the man from the alley, cleaned up and staring at her intently, his eyes boring through her as if he could read her every thought. And he was smiling.
Chapter 4
“Who are you?” Dawn asked him, sitting down across from him. There was no anger in her voice. No disgust. Only confusion. She wasn't judging him, he realized with a small sense of satisfaction. Not the same way she judged the crybaby boy who lived next door to her house.
“Micheil,” he answered mysteriously, with a faint accent. She tried to pinpoint where he might be from. Spanish? Russian? But she couldn't.
“Why am I here, Micheil?” she asked him, sitting back in her seat to take a good look at him. He could tell that she liked what she saw. Her heart thudded quickly and she had a noticeable spike in her body temperature. He tried not to let it arouse him, but couldn't help himself. It was too bad she was a mortal. They could have been so good together.
“Because you saw me last night, didn't you Dawn?”
“It was you! Wait, how did you know who I was? How did you even find me!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing why the strange man felt familiar and how creepy it was that he could find her.
A waiter appeared and he touched his finger to his lips, implying that she shush and have her order taken. She was flustered, but as if controlled by an invisible force, she obeyed and flipped open the menu – a menu written in French.
“Allow me mademoiselle, “ Micheil said and he chuckled at her frowned expression in amusement and immediately started to speak to the waiter in French. The waiter nodded as he noted down the orders and disappeared into the kitchen after a courteous bow.
“What did you get me?” she asked when he was gone.
“A grilled cheese,” Micheil teased.
She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Suits my attire,” she said, noticeably embarrassed.
“You look stunning,” Micheil said a little too quickly. She looked up at him in surprise, then back down at the table, nervously fingering the cloth napkin in front of her.
He would have to make his move before he lost his nerve. The waiter brought out a steaming plate of food almost immediately after it was ordered, placing it in front of Dawn. He gave Micheil a glass of wine and a wink.
“Now that's service,” she laughed, realizing that she hadn't eaten in the past 15 hours. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she dug into the plate of food unapologetically.
“Only the best for a guest,” Micheil said graciously.
“You should tip this guy,” she said with her mouth full. He smiled despite himself, taking the opportunity to study her features. She had a beauty mark, as the French would have called it. A natural, mole on her left cheek. She was tanned and vibrant, with pink cheeks and an active, athletic body. He could tell by how well her blood circulation was. A vampire could smell these things, and he had honed his senses over the years to pick out only the best of kills for himself.
Speaking of kills, he had brought her there for a reason. He hadn't gotten any rest since they met as he tried to piece together the secret to her defiance. What was it about her that had prevented him from attacking? He was a man who was used to taking what he wanted, and it made him very surly if he didn't get what he wanted quickly. He tore himself away from the distraction of her beauty long enough to speak.
“I am a generous man,” he said. Mention of his generosity made her stiffen. So she must have heard that he was an important donor. She thought he was probably after something.
“I'm going to cut to the chase.”
She swallowed hard and sat down her fork – a salad fork she had been using to tear into a piece of fish with – and tilted her head. She was all ears now. There was always a catch, her face seemed to be saying to him, and she warily accepted this as a fact of life.
“I was hoping to explain myself to you,” he said in his most soothing voice. He wanted to prime her up for another shot at hypnosis. If he didn't do this right, he might lose his chance forever. But something wasn't working. He could tell that there was something strange that was stopping him from using any kind of hypnosis on her. What was that block? A protection spell perhaps? Or maybe he just didn't have it in himself to manipulate somebody as brave and honorable as she seemed to be.
“Maybe you should explain to the police. Or that poor woman,” she said firmly, taking another bite of fish with her salad fork. She had almost forgotten that this was the same man she saw in the alley the night before.
“She was perfectly willing,” he said. And it was true. He could always count on the internet to lead him to women who wanted a real life brush with a vampire. He'd chosen her specifically because she had something of a death wish as it was. He would be doing her a mercy by showing her that vampires were real, and giving her an escape from all the pain.
“Willing?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You could ask her yourself. Use your other fork, you savage,” he teased. This brought her to laughing again.
“Why do rich people take their absurd customs so seriously?” she asked with a sigh, switching her fork and studying it under the light. “Does this impale dead things better?”
Micheil flinched at the mention of dead things being impaled – it was a subject near and dear to his heart – but tried to compose himself before she noticed. He was too late. She raised her eyebrow, realizing he was put off, and assuming it was her jibe on rich people that had done it.
“You're absolutely revolting,” he laughed. “Just call it fish. Dead or alive, it's fish.”
“Ah, so are you a vegetarian then?” she asked.
“I follow a strict diet,” he said, pursing his lips into a mysterious smile.
She grinned and took another bite. He was about to keep up the chit chat, he hadn't enjoyed someone's company this much for centuries, but remembered that he had to stay focused on the task at hand.
&nb
sp; “Well anyway, we can talk more tonight if you feel like it. I'd be happy to answer any questions you might have.”
He was looking squarely at her now, deep in the eyes. She was sucked into the powerful magnetism of his voice, the chilling blue of his eyes, and found herself fighting the urge to get closer; to feel the texture of his skin, the softness of his lips. Maybe touch his broad jaw. But why? She knew what was beneath it all. He was some kind of a monster, toying with her like she was a mouse, playing with her to keep his control because she was a liability. What would happen if she did rat him out? Would he kill her? She shuddered to think.
“I'm not sure I would trust what you tell me,” she said honestly. “But I'd like to hear what you have to say for yourself. So spill it.”
“Not here,” he said, visibly uncomfortable. “If you want to know more about me, you should meet me at midnight tonight.”
“Are you kidding? So I can end up like that poor woman in the alley?”
“I won't hurt you,” he said. He hadn't meant to say it. He hadn't planned to say it. But more than anything, he hadn't meant to mean it. But that's what he found himself doing.
She levelled her gaze, measuring him up and down, determining with her sharp, ocean colored eyes that he was telling the truth.
“Maybe if I had a death wish,” she sighed.
But he knew she would come. Some part of her was secretly rejoicing, happy to have an opportunity to continue this thing between them – whatever it was. He could see the relief on her face, the curiosity in her eyes. A woman like this loved adventure, and now she was on one. But only so long as she stayed on the the hook. There was no adventure with Brandon, he thought bitterly, except maybe going out to buy more tissues so he could cry over Dawn and his unrequited love. He sneered a little at the thought.
“Well if you find you have a death wish, come here and wait for me,” he said, handing her a small rectangle of paper.
“All right,” she said uncertainly, taking a business card from him. It had the address scrawled on the back. It wasn't far from her house.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” he said, standing up from the table.
“Sure it was,” she said with an overly emphasized nod.
“Do you think I could get a doggy bag?” She whispered as she wiped her mouth on her napkin and pointed to the waiter.
Micheil laughed and shook his head, bemused by her pluck. “Anything you want little lady,” he said.
He sent her home with her leftovers, watching her saunter away, swinging the small bag of food and humming to herself. His eyes roamed her body, the tight jeans, her perfect, apple-shaped ass, and he found himself suddenly insecure, like a boy going on a first date. Would she be there at midnight? It was dangerous to hope when you meant it. Even if he just meant to kill her.
Chapter 5
Brandon dropped by not long after she got home. He was pleasantly surprised to see that she wasn't pulling another all-nighter. They had a stack of movies they had been waiting to watch. When they were teenagers it had been almost ritualistic that they hung out in his basement and used the entertainment center to amuse themselves for hours on the weekend. Neither of them had anywhere else they would rather be. Now they were both busy with work and it was rare when they could hang out together like old times.
“Are you feeling a thriller in the works or maybe horror? Or horror thriller?” he joked. She laughed, feeling less than into a movie night. Her mind was a million miles away, but she knew it would mean a lot to Brandon. He was one of her best friends, so she might as well humor him. At least for one movie.
“Surprise me,” she said wryly. He always liked this answer and set to work starting the movie. The little couch had grown even smaller as they grew older, or maybe Brandon had become less likely to give her the body space that she had when they were kids. It wasn't as if she had discouraged him – they had known each other for so long that she had always been a little bit curious about what would happen if they got together.
The lights dimmed and Brandon sank into the couch beside her. As the movie flickered on the screen, their hands would sometimes brush against each other's. She could feel the warmth of Brandon's leg against her own, and held back the urge to stroke it. Suddenly, his warm hands were creeping up her thighs and her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Was she panicking? It was finally happening, but all she could think about was Micheil's fierce face, that mysterious smile.
Brandon's familiar, boyish face moved in to kiss her. Her heart jumped in her chest and across the room, the bowl of popcorn on the table toppled over. She turned her face to look at the bowl in surprise, narrowly avoiding the kiss. She stood up abruptly and shoveled the popcorn back into the bowl.
“I'm sorry,” she said, glancing at the clock. It was almost midnight.
“I have somewhere I have to be.”
She ran out of the basement and darted out of the house, with nothing but Micheil on her mind.
***
“You seem flushed,” Micheil said. Was that jealousy in his voice? He could smell Brandon on her, and he knew that if anybody could work her up like that, it would be him. He wasn't stupid. But she didn't know he had seen Brandon. He had to play it cool.
“Long night,” Dawn said, looking down at the ground. She didn't want to think about what had just happened with Brandon. Especially not the part where it was this stranger's body she wanted pressed against hers, and not her childhood friend's.
“Well, you came. That's cause for celebration,” he said with a grin. “How do you feel about a late night stroll?”
She shrugged and followed him down the path. He veered instantly into the darkest forest path possible and she laughed nervously.
“You don't get less creepy. I'm probably walking to my doom. Am I right? Just tell me now.”
He simply laughed softly.
“The suspense is all part of the fun.”
Even he didn't know what was going to happen. His feelings for this girl had made him unpredictable. It was actually getting problematic. She was a problem he had to take care of once and for all. Why hadn't it happened yet?
“Would you like to see something?” he asked finally, after a pleasant silence.
“That depends,” she said warily.
“I know things about this town that other people don't,” he said mysteriously.
“Like what?” she replied in a playfully mocking way.
“Come on, this way.”
He ducked behind a tree and gripped her hand in his. The sudden unexpected sensation elated her, and she found herself following him without a second thought. Now he was running, and he laughed, ducking behind a tree, then another, until finally he stopped and crouched on the ground.
“Do you mind getting dirty?” he asked.
“I work with blood and guts all day,” she said. “I don't think a little dirt will hurt me.”
“That's what I like to hear,” he said with a grin. “It's in here.”
He pulled up a rusty latch and yanked it hard, revealing an unbelievably intricate series of tunnels beneath her town that she had never seen before.
“Whoa!” she exclaimed, running inside. “Where did this come from?”
“It's been here for the past century or two...” he said, thinking wistfully back to the days when he had first moved to the town. He had enlisted himself into the dangerous job, thinking that he might be able to spare a few lives by doing the dangerous work of several men. And in the meantime, he was in the perfect place to grab a mid-lunch snack for his heroic efforts. It was difficult for him to blend in if he couldn't be seen during the day, but in the tunnels with no sunlight, he could come to work just before sun up and leave after sun down.
Besides that, he had to keep busy, it was too hard for him to be bored. Thoughts would catch up to him. That was why he had started a business of his own and chosen to accumulate wealth and riches. It was a nice way to bide away his immortality.
Micheil followed behind Dawn with a smile; it was like watching an excited child. He thought that the tunnels would be the perfect place to feed and leave her body. He had done it several times before – most people didn't know about the tunnels, and if they did, they avoided them. There were rumors that they were haunted, and most people only got a few steps in before backing out. Dawn, though, seemed immune to the creepy vibes and thought the place was incredible.
He was about to tell her a story, probably far too personal, about how the tunnels had been constructed, but when he turned to tell her, she was gone. He opened and closed his mouth, looking around in alarm.
“Boo!” she exclaimed, jumping out at him from behind one of the tall walls.
He was startled, nearly knocked off his feet by her burst of energy, and she ran off laughing. He gave in to the chase, laughing as well, and soon they were playing a makeshift game of hide and go seek, tag style, running off, ducking into dark corners, and scaring the hell out of each other. All thoughts of killing her left his mind, and when she was about to wander into the cavern where he left the bodies of his prey, he gripped her hand and pulled her away, heading in the opposite direction, to a secret area where he had been piecing together old relics of the past. It was somewhere for him to meditate after a kill, and it was much more comfortable than the area that was littered with old bones.
She had squirmed away from him on their walk toward his meditation chamber, and when he turned the corner to find her, she was right in front of him, her body hot and tempting against his, her heartbeat soft, warm lips intoxicating him.
“Boo,” she said softly.
They stared at each other in the dim light of the tunnel, and he could tell that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He hadn't even had to hypnotize her, this was all on her own, even despite seeing what a barbarian he had been to the other woman. Suddenly, his longing was replaced with shame. He shouldn't have brought her here, not to harm her, not to do anything. It was time to leave. He led her out of the tunnels, gently by the waist, and gave her a small nod.
Romance: Zach (A College Bad Boy Romance) Page 3
