by Jane Ederlyn
She smiled coldly at him.
“You can stay.”
She tried not to react. She couldn’t divulge happiness or relief or anything.
“But when I call, you must obey. You must return to my side or suffer the consequences,” he warned. “Not negotiable.”
“Of course.” She sighed, another piece of her dying. One life for another. Ashmore for Marcel.
“Then it is settled,” he said.
“I cannot stay away from you for long.” She kissed his cheek and straightened his askew collar, the only visible sign of his undue behavior. “You look dashing.”
When she awoke at next dawn, the house felt different. She could hear only one heartbeat. She jumped out of bed, threw the door open and rushed to Anton’s room. She knocked, but when she didn’t hear or feel anything, she pushed the door. It creaked as it opened, revealing an orderly and empty room.
Steps sounded behind her and she whipped around.
“Miss Marie.” Her maidservant hung on the wood balustrade, pulling herself up to the top of the stairs. Anger boiled in Marie when she saw the girl’s neck and white face. Three haphazard bite marks were etched like ugly thrashes on her neck. Marie rushed forward to help, but the girl recoiled.
Damn Anton for doing this to her. Her relief at his leaving was suspended by his parting gift. Now she might be forced to kill her maid if she couldn’t regain her trust.
Chapter XXV
Odin parked in front of his building. He jumped out of his SUV and hurried to the curb to open the vehicle door, first for Marie and then for Abby. “It will be faster if we just walk from here.”
“Why don’t we valet?” Marie asked.
“Come on, it’s a beautiful night. Let’s enjoy it.” He tugged on her hand, leading her down the street. He glanced back to make sure Abby and John were in step behind them before crossing the street.
Marie looked up at the windows of his unit and smirked, remembering her first visit to the apartment. “I have not been to Nikki Beach,” she said. “What is it like?”
“Wait and see.”
They walked down Jefferson to Second and followed the tree-lined street. At the park they turned right onto Ocean Drive. It was several blocks, but the heat of the day had given way to a cooler, less humid evening and they enjoyed a cool breeze floating off the ocean. Marie enjoyed the pauses between breezes, when the air felt warm on her cheek. She inhaled, taking in the scent of the sun, letting it warm her from the inside out, and the smell of Odin, Abby, and even John. She glanced back at him and their eyes met. She didn’t need to smell John to know that he was uncomfortable, but at least he was trying.
When they arrived at the club, traffic congestion littered the street and parking lot. A long procession of cars waited for a valet, and an even greater line waited to be allowed entrance into the club.
Odin bypassed the queue and walked to the front of the line where he said a few words to the burly man guarding the door. The bouncer nodded. They appeared to be acquainted, but as a courtesy, Odin still handed him a bill, then motioned John and the girls forward to get their tag bracelets. Marie went rigid when the bouncer’s hands touched her. It was a whisper of a touch, but it should have been enough for him to notice her temperature, yet he seemed completely unaware. She relaxed.
The beach was vampire territory. She had forgotten that with Odin running around South Beach like he owned it. He must have a special relationship with Etienne, immunity of some sort. She was going to have to tell Odin about Etienne. Then the heat of Odin’s touch fell on the small of her back and she pushed all thoughts of vampires away.
“This way,” he said.
She expected a club of sorts but not this. What they walked into was the surprisingly dark interior of what looked like a super-sized beach hut.
They passed a long zigzag line of women waiting to get into the ladies’ room, then the building opened up to a starlit beach club. Immediately outside, the building was a boardwalk with benches. Beyond that, on the sugar-white sand, were tables and white cushioned loveseats underneath a canopy of tall, swaying palms. Where the trees stopped, there were rows and rows of white cushioned lounge beds, white floating cabanas, and white umbrellas. A grassy dune screened the shore from view, but Marie could smell the Atlantic Ocean. Both she and Odin took a deep appreciative intake of breath.
The music pounded, just as Marie liked it. The techno sound looped and beat in her ears and she felt as if her heart were hammering. She looked up at Odin, overwhelmed with emotion. In that brief instant, she felt as if her world had stopped and only he existed. How had he known that she loved this? Leave it to a werewolf to find a club without a roof.
A waitress escorted them to a reserved bed and took drink orders. When she left, Odin asked a quiet Marie, “Okay?”
She answered with a timid upturn of her lips. “More than okay. Thank you.”
He returned her smile with a high voltage one of his own. “Do you want to dance?”
She took his hand and followed him to the sectioned off dance area with the enthusiasm of a child but the languid elegance of a royal. As he led her away, he called out, “Loosen up, Bee!”
Abby waved them off, bouncing on the bed. Torn between liking the novelty of the cushions and wondering how many drinks had been spilt on it. In the end, she let her reservations float away. She wanted to enjoy herself.
Marie dressed conservatively in a white blazer, jeans folded at the hem to Capri length, and blue Valentino Rockstud T-straps. However, she wasn’t impervious to the humidity and opted for a maxi dress and wedge sandals. Sitting crossed-legged, she pulled the skirt of her dress off the sand and tucked it beneath her.
As she surveyed the crowd in beachwear, she was glad she had listened to Odin when he told them to dress down. The waitress arrived with two pitchers, one of draft beer and one of frozen, strawberry mojito. Abby grudgingly tried the cocktail. She took a sip and then a gulp and then another.
“Good?” John asked.
“OMG. It’s sublime. Do you want some?” She had tried a regular version when they first arrived in Miami but found the rum drink too limey for her taste. This, however, was like drinking ambrosia.
John took a sip to humor her, but grimaced. “I’ll stick to beer.”
She shrugged. “More for me.”
The music changed, the beat sped up, and two girls in rhinestone bikinis and feather headdresses walked into the crowd and stepped onto platforms. They started dancing, their movements rhythmic and contagious. Lights flashed, the dancers gyrated and jiggled, all under a cloudless, beckoning, evening sky. “Let’s join them,” Abby said.
“It’s not my thing,” John said, uncomfortable.
Abby looked out into the crowd and spotted Odin and Marie swaying. “You can’t be worse than Odin.”
John followed her line of vision. “He knows about her?” he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.
Abby gave him a sharp look. “Of course.”
“I just don’t get it.”
“It’s not for you to get, John. They look happy. They are happy.”
He scooted closer to her and spoke into her ear. “My mom asked me about your family, and I didn’t know what to say.”
“What?” Abby asked. She’d heard him, but didn’t want to launch into a serious discussion over the music. She wanted to dance.
John stood and held out his hand to her. “Come.”
She refilled her drink and stood. “Where are we going?”
“For a walk.”
Abby giggled, infected by the mood around her. She followed John as he tugged on her fingertips. When they could see the midnight-blue horizon and the tide of whitecaps ebbing and flowing from the shoreline, he stopped. They were still in view of the club. He glanced back. “I
think Marie’s watching me.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she lied.
“Tell me more about your family. There has to be someone else you’re related to, someone else that you can maybe live with.”
She sighed. “There isn’t anyone else.”
“What about your father?”
“He wasn’t around.”
“Coincidence or does Marie take care of everyone who steps out of line? Like she’ll take care of me if we don’t work out?”
“No,” Abby whispered harshly. She looked around, but there was no one within earshot. “My mom and dad were just friends. Neither wanted to marry and he moved away before I was born.” She gestured an exclamation point and ended up spilling her drink. The red slush melted on contact with the hot sand.
“Did your mom have the same arrangement with Marie that you do?”
Annoyance flared through her. Why couldn’t he leave things alone? “My grandparents died shortly after Mom graduated from high school. But before then she was around. Marie and Mom were like sisters. It was a little different with me. All of the family was gone and Marie had to be my grandmother and my mother and my sister. Truthfully, I don’t remember my mom. I’ve tried to piece things together from the stories Marie tells me, but I just don’t remember. I was too little when the accident occurred. Marie may look young, but she is the only mother I’ve ever known.”
“Accident?” he asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes, remember I told you my mom died in a car accident.”
“Marie wasn’t there?”
“She came to get me when she could.”
“When you were little, did you know what she was? Were you scared?”
Abby looked directly into his eyes. She didn’t blink. She didn’t waver. “John, do you have a problem with Marie?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that I was thinking about us, about our future.”
“She likes you.”
“I love you, and I don’t know.” He glanced around, before meeting Abby’s intent gaze again. “I want us to move in together. To have a normal life.”
“This is normal for me,” she said.
He shook his head.
“Marie is a good person.” She kicked at the sand.
“She’s a vampire, and there is nothing normal or good about that. I can’t even believe what I’m saying. I half-expect Ashton Kutcher to come out of the bushes to tell me I’ve been ‘Punk’d.’ Vamps aren’t supposed to be real. Science doesn’t support this.”
“Science can’t always answer our questions. She’s my mother.”
“I understand how you feel, babe, honest I do. I never thought I’d meet someone like you and I understand your sense of responsibility, but every child leaves the nest sooner or later, and I don’t want her to go with us on our honeymoon.”
“Marie and I are a package deal. If you love me, you have to accept her. I’m as attached to her as she is to me.” Abby blinked back tears. “Thanks. I wanted to have fun tonight.” She started walking, but he grabbed her.
“Abby, wait. I’m sorry.” He pulled her into his arms and she allowed it, but her hands hung stiff at her sides not returning the embrace. “I shouldn’t have brought it up tonight, but you’re going to have to deal with this eventually.”
“I’m thirsty. Let’s go back.” She slipped out of his hold.
His hands fell away, empty, but he followed.
Back at the table, she poured the last of the mojito into her glass.
“Abby?” John lifted her chin. “I’ll just kidnap you and we’ll elope.”
She gave him a hesitant smile. She liked him, but she didn’t want to choose between the two of them. If he arrogantly gave her an ultimatum, he wouldn’t be happy because Marie always came first.
Chapter XXVI
Egon, Lagmann, and Odin’s cousin, Siv, ate on the outdoor patio of Smith & Wollensky on South Pointe, the tip of South Beach. Siv and Lagmann were deep in conversation, discussing cruise ships. Egon wasn’t interested and stared out into government cut. The manmade shipping channel was a direct route from the Atlantic Ocean into the Port of Miami and Biscayne Bay. It was normally choppy, but tonight, with the breeze blowing, the water was particularly restive. Waves crashed on the rocks along the sea wall, lightly spraying the alfresco diners.
Egon inhaled, smelling water and marine life on the breeze. He inhaled again, a deep, indrawn breath, and held it. Scents assaulted him, each bringing a picture or a feeling to mind. He closed his eyes, letting the smells talk to him. Spreading each layer apart, like peeling an onion, he was able to pinpoint particulars. Then he pushed away the scents in his immediate surroundings and expanded, until at the core, like a tickle in his nose, was what he was looking for. He found a trace of a familiar scent on the wind. They were here.
Odin told him he was taking the girls out to South Beach. To a human, perhaps that might have been a needle in a haystack, but not to Egon. He smiled and inhaled again, reveling with pride and excitement like a cat finally catching the bird.
“What is it?” Lagmann asked, recognizing the look on Egon’s face.
“I smell Odin,” Egon said, choosing his words.
“Why are you so excited about seeing Odin?” Lagmann gave the younger werewolf an odd look. “Where is he?”
“Nearby.”
“I haven’t seen him since I got back.” Siv reached for the bill. “My treat.” He paid, leaving the waitress a generous tip, and they left, stomachs full with T-Bone steaks, pork chops, and whipped potatoes.
“We should see what he’s doing,” Egon suggested.
Lagmann frowned.
“Great idea.” Siv returned his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.
They left the car parked on the street and walked. Not only could they not depend on finding parking on a Saturday night, it was also easier to track on foot.
The closer they got to Ocean Drive, the stronger the scent became.
The three of them stepped on the boardwalk of Nikki Beach.
“Did you say Odin’s here?” Siv strained to stare after two bikini-clad girls that passed him, giggling and sending silent signals. “Sometimes I wish I were normal.”
Lagmann darted a concerned look at him. “You are.”
“No, my brother,” Siv said. His tone was reflective but carried neither regret nor dissatisfaction. “But I can flirt.” When the girls looked back, he winked at them, and then tuned them out.
Egon sniffed the air and his eyes followed his nose to the dance floor and pointed. The other two exchanged meaningful glances at the sight of Odin dancing.
“I told you he was here.”
Siv slapped Egon on the back. “We never doubted you.”
Lagmann dug his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. “We need to relieve the first watch soon?”
“Then let’s make the most of the time we do have.” Siv jumped into the crowd and Egon followed.
Odin’s nose shot up.
“I think you have company,” Marie said.
She guided him around with one arm while the other slid across his midsection until he had his back to her and faced the oncoming werewolves. Then she pushed him toward them but stayed behind on the dance floor swaying to the remains of the song.
Egon veered past the dining tables and straight to their bed. “Hi.”
Abby glanced up and her face brightened. She called out, “my friend!” and sprang up to hug him, surprising him. She smelled of rum, fruit, and mint.
John stiffened.
Lagmann looked between Egon and Abby with curiosity. When neither made a move, he stuck his hand out and introduced himself to her and a sullen John.
“What are you doing here?” Odin asked.
“Hey big guy. We were at Smith & Wollensky having dinner,” Siv said.
“Join us. We can get another bed.”
Lagmann shook his head. “We need to leave.”
“But we just got here,” Egon said.
“Don’t go,” Abby said.
Lagmann’s neutral expression faltered.
Marie touched Odin’s arm, and he stepped back to let her into the circle of conversation.
“Good evening,” she said.
Amidst all the shifter testosterone, John bristled, and tugged Abby backward into his embrace. The possessive gesture made her glance up at him sharply, but the cold speculation in his eyes didn’t waver from the newcomers. And his mental dialogue was so loud; he might as well have been speaking through a megaphone.
“Hello, Egon,” Marie said.
Egon returned her greeting, genuinely happy to see her.
Marie’s eyes shifted to Lagmann and Siv. “We have not met.”
Odin introduced them and she acknowledged each one with a genteel dip of her head. John’s arm tightened around Abby’s chest. Odin frowned. Abby was tipsy and John’s hold on her looked more like a restraint. But before he could address it, she slapped John’s forearm and his grip loosened. Odin smiled. His Bee was as tough as Marie.
Egon’s eyes went to John’s hand, traveled up the arm and then fell on his face. His eyes glowed for a second before he banked the emotion and they settled back to normal. Odin laid a careful hand on his shoulder and the younger wolf looked down and away.
“Are all of you related?” John asked.
They all had fair complexions, but Siv and Lagmann were as light haired as he and Egon were dark. Odin glanced at his pack brothers, at little Bee and Mother hen, and nodded. This was his family.
“Well, sport, we have to go,” Lagmann directed to Egon. “We wanted to say hello, but have somewhere else to be.” He glanced at his watch in an exaggerated motion. “Enjoy your evening, ladies.”
