“Is that woman who lives with your grandmother a rook or a witch or what?”
“Alice is a witch. My grandmother saved her from being burned at the stake in Salem not long after we arrived in the colonies.”
Delaney downed the last of her hot chocolate. Too bad the cup was so small. “Why aren’t any of you married? Or is Sebastian married?”
“He was.” Hugh seemed lost in thought for a moment. “She left him.”
“Because he became a vampire?”
“No.” Hugh’s gaze pinned her. “Because she did.”
He got up and walked toward the French doors. “This life holds a thousand temptations. She wanted to try them all and being married didn’t fit into that plan.”
Maybe that’s why Hugh was in no hurry to get married. “I’m sorry for your brother. That kind of betrayal sucks. Hard.”
Hugh turned to look at her. “You sound like you know that from experience.”
She nodded and stared at her hands. She didn’t tell a lot of people about her past, didn’t want them to pity her for it, but Hugh wasn’t just anyone. He’d already forgiven her lying to him and was now actively protecting her by letting her stay here. “My mother found out she had breast cancer when I was fourteen. Six months later, my father couldn’t handle it. He was there one day and gone the next.”
Hugh sat on the couch with her but kept his distance. “That must have devastated your mum. How did it affect her recovery? Has she remarried?”
Because he’d assumed her mother had lived, Delaney smiled, but her lips stayed pressed together. “She didn’t recover. She died a month after my fifteenth birthday. My father was—is a defense contractor. He’d taken a job in Korea. Still lives there now. He didn’t come home for her funeral.”
“Sounds like a proper bastard.”
“That’s a pretty decent assessment.” Her eyes were hot with tears. She blinked them away.
“What did you do after your mum died?”
“I went to live with my grandmother in Brooklyn. She passed away three years ago. It was a good life considering.”
“Have you seen your father since?”
She nodded. “The summer after I graduated high school, he married a Korean woman.”
Hugh’s brows knit together. “Don’t tell me you went to the wedding?”
“Yep. Purely for selfish reasons. He paid for the ticket and I really wanted to see Korea. I had a bit of an ulterior motive, though. When they got to the part of the service about anyone objecting, I stood up and told him exactly what I thought about him, his treatment of my mother and his failure to show up at the funeral.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.” She smiled, but bent her head. “It’s the moment in my life I’m probably most and least proud of.”
His eyes shone with admiration. “I’m proud of you for doing it, and I’ve only known you a few days. That took courage.”
“And a couple shots of soju.”
He laughed. “That’s some strong stuff. Even so, good for you.” He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his face going serious again. “Between your father and your cheating ex-boyfriend, you must not think much of men.”
She lifted her gaze to see him better. “I know those two don’t represent every man. But it’s certainly given me a lot to think about.”
“Understandable.”
She sat up straighter and tipped her head. “Why aren’t you married? You said you were twenty-seven when you were turned. Isn’t that sort of old for a nobleman in the 1600s to be single?”
He went very still, his eyes focused on some spot on the cushion between them. “I was married.”
That was…unexpected. But sensing he had more to say, she stayed quiet and gave him the time to find the words.
After a long pause, Hugh spoke again. “She died.”
The cold, familiar bands of pain wrapped Hugh’s heart, but Delaney deserved to have her questions answered. He just hadn’t expected to breach this topic so soon.
“I’m so sorry, Hugh.”
He nodded, the muscles in his jaw tensing against the ache in his soul.
“Was it the plague too?”
And there it was. The one question he most dreaded to answer. Because the full truth would frighten her away more than anything else he might say. “No.”
Desperate to change the subject, he took her hand. “If you’re not sleepy, would you like to go into town?”
She frowned. “Won’t everything be closed?”
“Not everything.” He smiled. She was extraordinarily pretty. And open-minded enough to stay even after he’d confessed his true self. “Now that you know the secret of Nocturne Falls, there’s a whole other side I can show you.”
Intrigue danced in her eyes. “Like what?”
“There’s a place called Insomnia. Horrible name, I know, but it’s a members-only club, and the only members allowed are supernaturals. And guests of supernaturals.”
“Not Piper then?”
“Definitely not Piper.” In the name of all that was holy, please not Piper. He wasn’t sure he could take another minute of that woman right now.
Delaney bit her pinkie finger, giving him a glimpse of her tongue. He was going to kiss her again before the night was over, that much he knew. “So…will there be other vampires there?”
“Probably. And shifters and fae and witches, and who knows what else. Interested?”
“I don’t know.”
“If a visit to Insomnia doesn’t prove I’m telling you the truth, nothing will.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…”
“Scared?” He waggled his brows, knowing she’d take his assessment like he was daring her to back down.
Her eyes narrowed. His challenge seemed to have worked. “I’ll go get changed.”
It didn’t take much for Delaney to get ready. Her wardrobe was sparse thanks to packing on the run and having no real clue what lay ahead. Fortunately, she’d brought one club-appropriate outfit. Skinny jeans, high-heeled black boots and a black strapless peplum top in leather. It wasn’t something she’d ever have spent money on herself, but Mrs. Rastinelli occasionally brought hand-me-downs into the restaurant and let the girls pick through them. Mrs. Rastinelli was actually wife number two and dressed like she wasn’t about to let there be a number three.
Most of the stuff she brought in was over-the-top sexy and verging on tacky, but somehow also expensive. Selling Mrs. Rastinelli’s hand-me-downs on Ebay had become a nice little hobby for Delaney. Enough that she could afford to buy quality baking supplies.
Delaney had planned on selling the leather top on Ebay too. Until she’d tried it on. She’d never owned something so sexy and sophisticated. Clearly too sophisticated for Mrs. Rastinelli.
Delaney thanked whatever instinct had driven her to bring it along on this trip.
Hugh’s mouth fell open as she walked down the stairs to the foyer where he waited. He wore a simple black suit with a white dress shirt open at the neck, no tie and looked pretty close to edible. “You look, uh…” He nodded. “This is a side of you I hadn’t been expecting.”
She’d smoked out her eye makeup, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t what he was talking about. She stopped directly in front of him. “What side is that?”
“This, this…” He waved his hands at her outfit. “You look a little dangerous. In a good way.”
She laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a word that’s ever been used to describe me.” But she liked it a lot. It made her feel powerful. And reckless.
Heady with his compliment, she did a little spin. “Is this okay for the club then?”
“Yeah. Yes. More than okay. Damn good.”
In her heels, she was only a couple inches shorter than he was. Close enough to see the tantalizing shadow of stubble darkening his square jaw. The powerful, reckless feeling went to her head. She stared at his mouth. “Show me your fangs again.”
&nbs
p; If he really was a vampire, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?
He stared at her for a second, then snorted softly before curling his lip back in a snarl. His canines were as sharp and pointed as any movie vampire’s she’d ever seen. “Happy?”
She peered at them. “You swear those are real?”
His gaze rolled skyward. “Don’t they look real?”
“Yes.” She reached forward before she realized what she was doing. She snatched her hand back.
“You want to touch them? Go ahead. I promise not to bite. Just be careful, they’re sharp.”
“This is weird,” she muttered.
“You started it.”
“That I did.” She reached out again and poked at one of his fangs. “Sure feels real.”
She tested the point with a fingertip. “Ouch.” She yanked her finger back. A drop of blood pearled on the tip. Sweet crispy crackers, what had she done? What if the blood drove him mad? She took a small step back, but nothing about him seemed crazed with blood lust.
“I told you they were sharp.” He frowned and took her hand for closer inspection. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
Still holding her hand, he looked into her eyes. “May I?”
She knew what he was asking. She also realized that she was safe with this man. This man who could probably be very unsafe, if he really was a vampire. The irony was that she’d never felt half this secure with fully human Russell. Her realizations didn’t stop her answer from coming out in a breathy wobble. “Y-yes.”
He lifted her finger to his lips and tenderly sucked off the bead of blood. His mouth was warm and electric, and the contact shot straight through her. Like he’d put his mouth in a very different place.
“Oh.” Another breathy, trembling response. She took a deep inhale to erase the sudden light-headedness threatening to unbalance her, but there was no erasing the desire.
He turned her hand around. “See? All better?”
The blood was gone, but that’s not what she was looking at. His eyes shone with the kind of luminescence of an animal’s at night, but then she blinked and it was gone. “Thanks.”
Her boldness was wavering, driving her to take advantage of it while she could. “Can you make your fangs go away just as easily?”
“Sure.” He grinned to show her they were gone. “Too frightening?”
“No. Too hazardous.” Then she leaned forward and planted her mouth on his.
He went completely still for a heartbeat, then his arms were around her and his hands found homes, one on her hip, the other high on the middle of her back. He moaned softly as his mouth opened to tease his tongue across hers.
She wrapped her hands around his biceps, instantly distracted by the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his suit. Her head spun. She was either kissing a vampire or a crazy man and he really did seem way less crazy than a lot of the guys she’d known. Either way, she was okay with it.
Really, really okay with it.
When she broke the kiss and eased back, he smiled at her. “Does this mean you believe me?”
Did she? Maybe. “I…guess I do.”
His expression softened. “No, you don’t. Not yet. It’s okay. I understand.”
He stared at her throat for a few long moments, long enough that her hand went to her neck. “Okay, I get it, you’re a vampire and my neck is bare.”
“No, that’s not what I was—yes, it is bare. I’ll be right back.” Then he was gone, only to return so quickly she didn’t know how he’d done anything in such a short time.
In his hand, he held a large burgundy velvet box. “As beautiful as you look tonight, this is only gilding the lily, but if you would indulge me…” He opened the box.
Delaney sucked in a breath. “That’s amazing.”
Nestled on the burgundy velvet was a dragonfly worked in gold. Emeralds made up its body, but the wings were set with amethysts, sapphires and diamonds. The insect was strung on a new black velvet cord, but the patina of the gold and the cut of the stones spoke to the age of the piece.
He lifted it from the box and held it up. “May I?”
If this was his way of marking his territory, so be it. “On one condition.”
He closed the box and set it on the entry table. “Yes?”
“Tell me about it. It looks old.” She turned and lifted her hair so he could put the necklace on her.
“It is.” He settled the piece around her throat, then held it there while she moved her hands. “It belonged to my mother.”
His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he fastened the clasp, raising goose bumps on her skin and causing her to wonder what it would be like to have his hands on other parts of her. Or his fangs… “That’s pretty old. It must be worth a fortune.”
“There. What do you think?”
She looked in the foyer mirror, conscious of the fact that he hadn’t answered her about the piece’s value. “It’s beautiful.”
Their eyes met in the mirror. His held emotions she couldn’t read, and his voice was low when he answered. “It suits you.”
Her fingers went to the dragonfly as she turned to face him. “I know it’s just a loan for the evening, but it’s still very generous of you.”
“It’s nice to see it worn again.” With the distance of memory lingering in his gaze, he opened the front door. “Shall we? I had Stanhill pull the car around.”
Hugh drove them to the club, which wasn’t far, but the trip covered some back roads that were new to her. When they arrived, she squinted at the place. Faded painted spelled out the name Caldwell Manufacturing on the old brick building in front of them. It looked like it had been new fifty years ago. “I’ve heard of industrial clubs, but this is hardcore. Are you sure it’s safe?”
He nodded. “It’s just a cover, I promise.” He pointed at the fairly packed parking lot. “There wouldn’t be cars here otherwise.”
She peered up at the building. “What’s this place supposed to manufacture?”
“Gaskets.”
She stared at him. “For a second, I thought you said caskets. Hah! See what I did there? Caskets? Vampires?” He wasn’t smiling. “Never mind.”
He narrowed his eyes like he was seeing past her dumb joke. “We need some places of our own. The tourist side of things wears on you after a while.”
“By ‘we’ I assume you mean supernaturals?”
He nodded. “Of which you are about to meet a large group.” He jumped out of the car, a beautiful old Jaguar, and came around to her door and helped her out.
“Anything I need to know before we go in there?”
He shut her door and locked the car. “Trust your instincts. Just like in any club, there might be elements to avoid. But I’ll be at your side the whole time.”
He put his hand on the small of her back as they started toward the building, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Have I mentioned how ravishing you look?”
His warm breath tickled her skin, sending the most delicious shiver through her. “Not in so many words.”
She linked her arm through his. “I have to say tonight you not only sound like James Bond, but in that suit, you look like him too.”
“A high bar indeed.” He opened a rusted steel door and let her in, then pulled it shut behind them.
Rows of worktables and machinery lined the vast open floor. The odors of dust and grease accompanied the utter stillness of the place. “Yeah, you’re right, this is a happening joint. How was there not a line to get in?”
“Reserve judgment a moment longer.” He ushered her toward a freight elevator and punched a code into a shiny new keypad. The down button lit and the whirr of gears echoed through the warehouse.
When the doors opened, they stepped in and he pressed the button marked basement. When the doors reopened, Delaney’s eyes went wide.
She stayed at Hugh’s side, happy to follow him while she gawked.
The place was gorgeous, but dark. All that stood out imm
ediately was the decor. Moody, industrial, and sleek, but plush at the same time. Leather seating, brushed metal accents, lots of blue neon, water features and the occasion blast of the smoke machine. “It’s like a dream.”
“That’s the idea. Insomnia and all that.” He led her toward the bar closest to them. “Let’s get a drink and get comfortable.”
The deep bass thump of club music rocked the place, but not at the ear-splitting level she was accustomed to. She leaned her back against the bar, too busy taking the club in to pay attention to ordering. “It’s nice that you can actually talk in here.”
Hugh tapped his ear. “Supernatural hearing. We don’t need the music blasting.”
“Neither do humans, but the clubs we go to seem to think we do. I take it you don’t need as much lighting either. I can’t see much more than what’s under the spotlights.” But as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting, she started seeing the faces around her in more detail. Faces that were not quite human.
She inched closer to Hugh.
He put his hand on her arm. “You okay?”
“Just…adjusting.”
“What would you like to drink while you adjust?”
“Wine. Red.”
“Keep in mind that this place allows a certain amount of laxness most supernaturals would never adopt while in mixed company. What you’re seeing are some half forms and some true ones.”
Her gaze skipped from face to face. With some she could easily tell what they were. The werewolves had a very canine look about them. A few others looked more feline—cat shifters of some sort, she guessed. Another group had Hugh’s luminescent eyes and fangs, so they were clearly vampires. The women who looked human might be witches.
Hugh placed their order with the bartender, then canted his head toward hers. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can go. Just say the word.”
“No, I’m fine.” Even better since he’d said that. “It’s just weird to be in a joint where being human makes me the minority.”
“Don’t be afraid. You’re here with me.”
She took him in: his gorgeous face and broad shoulders and the smile that seemed just for her. Her heart went a little achy at how beyond it all he was. Don’t go falling in love. “So are you the BMOC around here, since you practically own the town?”
The Vampire’s Mail Order Bride Page 11
