Did Mara and the others bathe in this old tub? Or did they just whisk themselves back home where they could soak in a real bathtub with hot and cold running water?
Lying there, she found herself thinking about her housemates—out hunting in the shadows for prey. Nick had told her he no longer killed when feeding, but what about Mara and Logan and the old ladies? Somehow, she just couldn’t imagine Edna and Pearl sinking their fangs into some unwary mortal. The pair looked more like bingo-playing grandmothers than bloodsucking vampires. Abbey grimaced as she imagined Pearl hypnotizing some old man and drinking his blood. Or did she prefer someone younger?
She thrust the unsettling thought from her mind. Better to think about Nick. And even as his image rose in her mind, he appeared in the doorway.
Startled, she grabbed the towel from the chair beside the tub and covered herself as best she could. “What are you doing here?” she sputtered. “Can’t you see I’m taking a bath?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled with a wicked grin. “And a lovely sight it is.”
She glared at him. “Now my towel is all wet and it’s the only one I have.”
“Not to worry. I’ll get you another.”
“Nick Desanto, you get out of here right this minute!”
Laughing, he vanished from her sight, only to return moments later bearing an armful of fluffy white bath towels, a bottle of French perfume, and a bouquet of red roses.
He placed the perfume and the flowers on the chair, dropped the towels on the floor within easy reach, then bowed from the waist. “Enjoy your ablutions, my lady. I’ll be in the Great Hall, should you need someone to wash your back.”
Abbey stared after him as he sauntered out of the room and quietly closed the door. An image of Nick taking the soap from her hand and running it over her back and other, more intimate parts of her body almost tempted her to take him up on his offer.
“I’m still here if you’ve changed your mind.”
With a huff of annoyance, she wadded up the wet towel and threw it at the door.
A wave of masculine laughter was his only response.
Dry and clean and wearing a pair of pj’s, a robe, and slippers, Abbey scuffed into the Great Hall. If she hadn’t known the occupants were vampires, it would have looked like an ordinary gathering of friends. A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth. Mara, Logan, and Nick were playing poker; Edna was painting her nails; Pearl was engrossed in a battered paperback copy of Frankenstein.
“Good evening, dear,” Pearl said, smiling over the top of her book.
“Hi.”
“Have you ever read Shelley?” Pearl asked.
Abbey shook her head as she crossed the room and took a place on the sofa near the hearth. “Too scary for me.”
“Scary?” Edna shook her head. “What’s scarier than vampires?”
“Hunters?” Pearl suggested.
Abbey grinned. She didn’t know the old ladies very well, but she couldn’t help liking them. There was an innocence about them that was totally out of character for vampires.
A shout of victory from the poker table had Abbey looking that way.
“Four queens!” Mara crowed, fanning her cards on the table. “I win again.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Logan groused. “That’s five hands in a row.”
“Didn’t you know?” Mara said, raking in a sizeable pot. “I used to deal in Monte Carlo.”
Logan shuffled the deck. “You never told me that.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t there very long.”
“Bite the pit boss, did you?” Nick asked, stifling a grin.
Mara’s face reflected her surprise. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. But I know you.” Nick glanced at his hand, then tossed a handful of chips in the pot.
“Just how well did you know her?” Logan’s voice was rough, like sandpaper over steel.
Mara’s shoulders tensed.
The two men glowered at each other across the table.
Edna and Pearl exchanged nervous glances.
Abbey bit down on her lower lip. The tension between Logan and Nick was unmistakable, as was the fine edge of jealousy in Logan’s voice. She glanced from Nick to Logan and back again. Would they fight? Nick was older, presumably stronger. Would he win? Or would Mara defend her husband against a former lover?
And just how well did Nick know Mara? Had he lied to her when he said there was no love between himself and his sire?
Logan pushed away from the table and gained his feet, his body rigid.
Nick also stood, hands tightly clenched at his sides.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Mara exclaimed. “Stop acting like idiots, you two! Logan, I met Nick first. We have a past together, brief as it was. Get over it. You’re my husband. It’s you I love. Now, sit down and deal.”
Abbey held her breath. And then, as if a brisk wind had swept through the room, the tension vanished.
Logan and Nick resumed their seats.
Edna picked up her nail polish. Pearl went back to her book.
Abbey sighed with relief, but she couldn’t dismiss the nagging voice in the back of her mind, the one that wondered if Nick had told her the whole truth.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mara glared at Nick. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble for one night? What’s so important that we have to meet in secret? All I need is for Logan to find the two of us up here in the tower, all alone.”
“What do you know about Abbey?”
“Everything there is to know, I guess. Why?”
“She got into my head the other night. Saw glimpses of my past. There’s no way she should have been able to do that.”
Brow furrowed, Mara moved to the window and stared out into the darkness. “That is odd.”
“Do you think it’s possible she has some psychic power that’s been dormant until now?”
“I suppose anything is possible.”
“What do you know about Savanah’s sperm donor?”
“Nothing. I never thought to ask her about it.”
“Do you think Savanah knows who it was?”
With a shrug, Mara turned to face him. “She might. Why? What are you thinking?”
Nick raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure, but Abbey’s either psychic or she has some other sort of preternatural power. There’s no other explanation.”
“Well, if you really want to know, I guess you’ll have to ask Savanah.”
“Yeah.”
“Are we done here?”
He nodded, but made no move to leave.
Neither did she. Taking a step closer, Mara cupped his cheek in her palm. “It wasn’t all so bad, was it?”
“No.” Standing so close, he was reminded of the first night they had met. Then, as now, he had been aware of her incomparable beauty, her innate allure. He had told Abbey he had never loved Mara.
He had told himself the same lie the night Mara had abandoned him so many centuries ago.
Nick stood outside, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he gazed into the darkness beyond the castle. It was almost four A.M. Mara and Logan were in their room. They had been arguing for the last twenty minutes, and though they kept their voices pitched low, Nick heard every word. It all boiled down to one thing: Logan Blackwood was suffering from a bad bout of jealousy, combined with a sense of betrayal because his wife had never told him about Nick, among other things.
For his part, Nick failed to understand why Blackwood was so upset. It was no secret that Mara had had countless lovers over the course of her long existence. Surely Logan knew it as well as everyone else. Or was Blackwood just upset because one of those lovers was now under his roof?
Nick shook his head as the sound of their argument ended abruptly, followed by the whisper of clothing hastily being flung aside, the faint sigh of the mattress as the lovers ended their quarrel.
Logan Blackwood was a lucky man.
Nick smi
led faintly. He had been smitten by Mara the moment he first saw her. They had enjoyed a brief, explosive few months together—nights of hunting, followed by hours of insatiable lovemaking. If there was one thing he loved about being a vampire, it was the incredible amount of stamina that came with it. No mortal man or woman could have survived.
Thoughts of intimacy immediately brought Abbey to mind. He had seen her face when Logan lost his temper earlier. In spite of what he had told her, she suspected he had cared for Mara more than he’d said, wondered if he still cared.
He had been certain he was telling Abbey the truth when he’d told her there had been no love between himself and Mara. Tonight, in the tower room, he realized he had been kidding himself for years. But what he felt for Mara was nothing compared to his feelings for Abbey. Mara was his sire. There would always be a bond between them, one that could only be broken by his death, or hers. But comparing his affection for Mara to what he felt for Abbey was like comparing the faint glow of a single candle to the blinding brightness of the sun. There was simply no comparison. His love for Abbey was richer, deeper, stronger.
Tuning out the soft cries and moans of the happy couple, Nick went up to the room where Abbey slept.
She lay on her side, one hand beneath her cheek. Her hair, spread across the pillowcase like a splash of dark chocolate, tempted his touch.
She stirred, murmuring his name, and he knew she was dreaming of him. Needing to hold her, he shucked his boots and stretched out beside her. How beautiful she was. Her skin smooth and soft. Her lips pink and perfect and slightly parted.
Her breath mingled with his as she murmured his name again.
He caressed her cheek, ever so lightly, traced the contours of her lips with his fingertip, pressed a kiss to her brow.
“Nick?” Her eyelids fluttered open. “Nick!”
“Shh.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I was just missing you.”
Sleepy-eyed, she smiled at him. “Are you really here?”
“If you want me to be.”
“I was dreaming of you.”
“I know. I can make it come true, if you’re willing.”
“Nick . . .”
“I know. I promised to court you.” Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her cheeks, her brow, her eyelids, before claiming her lips with his. His body reacted to her nearness, as his hunger responded to the siren call of her blood.
He reminded himself that they had only known each other a short time, that even though she cared for him, was undeniably attracted to him, she still had doubts about their relationship. He needed to slow down, for both their sakes.
Cupping her face in his palms, he kissed her one more time, then eased away from her and sat up. Brushing a wisp of hair from her cheek, he said, “Go back to sleep, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Nick,” she whispered. And then she said the words he had longed to hear. “I love you.”
Abbey woke with a smile on her lips and the sun in her face. Nick had come to her last night. Or had that been a part of her dream? And what a dream it had been!
They had been walking in the woods behind the castle beneath a full moon. He had pulled her into his arms and the next thing she knew, they had been stretched out on an enormous bed floating in the middle of the ocean. He had undressed her, tossing her clothing into the water. His kisses, his caresses, his words, had carried her away until she was aching for him with every fiber of her being. And then, at the moment of fulfillment, she had felt the prick of his fangs at her throat.
And the next thing she knew, she was in the midst of the ocean, drowning in a sea of crimson ecstasy. It had been exhilarating and frightening in equal measure.
With a shake of her head, Abbey tossed the covers aside. Rising, she washed her hands and face in the basin on the dresser. She glanced out the window as dark clouds shrouded the sun. After donning a pair of jeans and a sweater, she headed downstairs.
She had just finished breakfast when her father called.
“How’s it going?” he asked. “Everything okay there?”
“Yes. Nick took me sightseeing again yesterday. It was fun, but I’m missing Freckles. And you and Mom, of course,” she added quickly. “When can I come home?”
“Soon, I’d say. Roshan and your uncle Rafe spent the last two nights in town, but there’s still no sign of the hunters, and no explanation for their sudden departure. If nothing happens in the next few days, I’ll tell Mara to bring you home.”
“Another few days,” she said, groaning dramatically. “Dad, you have no idea what it’s like here. I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad if the place had a few modern conveniences. Wouldn’t you think Mara would at least install some plumbing?”
Rane chuckled. “It would probably cost a fortune to modernize that old place.”
“I guess.”
“What are Pearl and Edna up to?”
“Nothing that I know of. I really don’t see very much of them. Why?”
“Just curious. You might let them know the coalition raised the bounty on their heads.”
“I will.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, honey.”
“Okay. Give my love to Mom.”
“Will do.”
Abbey disconnected the call and slipped her phone back into her pocket. All that talk of hunters, combined with the information about the increased reward for Edna and Pearl, reminded her once again how different her life was from that of her family, and how truly uninvolved she had been in their lives over the last five years.
Now she was home again, dating a vampire, and there was no ignoring the fact that there was no longer anything remotely normal about her life. The thing that bothered her the most was her sudden ability to read Nick’s mind. She had never wondered who her biological father was, but she was wondering now. Had he been a college graduate? Was he married? Had he liked art and music? Of course, she had no idea if that kind of information had been made available, but as soon as she got home, she was going to have a long talk with her mother.
Kneeling in front of the fireplace in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Pearl stirred the liquid bubbling in the heavy cast-iron pot hanging from a tripod over a small fire.
“Do you think that’s enough monkshood?” Edna asked, peering over her shoulder.
“As sure as I can be, dear,” Pearl replied, adding a dash of hawthorn, a few drops of rose oil, and several cloves of garlic.
Wrinkling her nose against the smell, Edna took several steps backward. “What do you think he’ll do to us if it doesn’t work?”
“I don’t want to think about it. Hand me that vial of blood, will you, dear?”
Edna passed her the vial, watched the liquid in the pot turn crimson as Pearl stirred it into the mix. “I wonder if the hunter’s child regained her humanity.”
“We’ll probably never know, but I hope so.” Pearl stirred the mixture again, then stood. “Forty-eight hours from now, Nick might be human again, although I can’t imagine why he’d want to be. All it will get him is sickness, old age, and death.”
Sighing, Edna pressed her hand over her heart. “I think it’s romantic. Imagine having a man who loved you that much.”
“If Abbey was smart, she’d let him bring her across. Then they could have hundreds of years together instead of one, short, mortal lifetime.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right,” Edna allowed.
“Of course I’m right, but it isn’t our choice to make, is it, dear?” Pearl covered the pot, then tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “All this cooking is making me hungry. How about you?”
Looking up from a book she’d found in the library, Abbey frowned as a strange odor stung her nostrils. What on earth was that horrid smell? Since she was the only one in the place who did any cooking—and darn little of that since she’d been here—she couldn’t imagine what it was. Or why the smell wasn’t coming from the kitchen.
She g
lanced at the time on her phone. Just after six in the evening. Abbey frowned, wondering where her housemates were. She hadn’t seen any of them all day and she was bored, bored, bored.
She laid the book aside, then followed the awful smell up the stairs and down the corridor to one of the bedrooms. The door was closed, but the smell was definitely coming from that room.
“Hello? Is anyone in there?”
When there was no answer, she reached for the knob, then hesitated. This wasn’t her house. At home, a closed door meant “keep out.”
But what if the house was on fire? It certainly smelled as if something was burning.
She pressed her ear to the door and when she didn’t hear anything, she turned the handle and stepped into the room. It was empty save for a small round table that held a brown leather case. The stink came from a pot suspended from a tripod in the fireplace.
Ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that told her she had no business snooping around, she used the hem of her sweater to lift the lid, felt the bile rise in her throat when she saw the thick red liquid bubbling inside the pot. What on earth was it?
After quickly replacing the lid, she stumbled away from the fireplace, then turned and hurried out the door.
And ran smack into Nick.
“Whoa, girl,” he said, catching her by the shoulders. “Where’s the fire?”
Pointing behind her, she said, “In there.”
“What? Wait a minute. Are you saying the castle’s on fire?”
“No! No.” She shook her head. “Something’s cooking in there.” She shuddered. “Something disgusting.”
Nick couldn’t argue with that. The scent of blood and herbs had disturbed his rest. He had hoped the smell came from something else, but he had a terrible suspicion that he knew what it was. He swore under his breath. He had credited Edna and Pearl with more sense than to brew their magical elixir here, inside the castle.
Blocking his thoughts, Nick forced a laugh as he guided Abbey toward the stairway. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
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