by T. A. Grey
“No,” he cut her off. “Later.” He couldn’t handle any more conversations, any more anything regarding Arabella Oprah Donahue. Turning on his heel, he retreated, leaving her standing alone.
CHAPTER 17
Grayson didn’t return to Arabella’s room that night or the following morning. So she showered in the nicest and most expensive shower she’d ever seen and dressed in a fresh pair of jeans with a cute blouse that clung to her perky ta-tas like a lover’s hand. The shirt could definitely turn heads. She’d never been one to wear makeup though not for lack of trying. It seemed she never could learn how to make her face look before heading downstairs in search of life. The Blackmoore Estate was really something. Marble floors, polished balustrades, oriental vases that looked as old as the Ming Dynasty and artwork littered the opulent mansion. The Blackmoores were wealthy and this multi-million dollar estate was only the tip of the iceberg.
As soon as she reached the main the hall the smell of fried bacon and eggs wafted to her nose. Her stomach growled at the mouth-watering scents and soon her feet took her in the direction of the kitchen. Inside the kitchen she found two women. One she immediately scented as vampire. She was beautiful even with her arm in a sling. That must be Felicity Blackmoore, Dominic’s new bruid. Their story had been all in the papers at the time, but now that the presidential election was over they’d fallen out of the press. In lieu of Grayson and Anita’s story.
Arabella didn’t recognize the other woman but she was incredibly beautiful with dark skin tones. She was also human. The human scent was subtle usually, but there. They smelled of the foods they ate, of the oil on their skin, whereas the vampire Felicity merely smelled of blood and little else. Arabella had once heard that vampires thought Weres smelled like mangy dogs but she wouldn’t know anything about that.
“You must be Arabella!” Felicity said. She had a brilliant smile that was instantly contagious.
“I am and I’m starving.” Her stomach growled to prove her point.
Tossing back her head, Felicity laughed. “I was gonna ask: are you just hungry or is that your Were growl?” She laughed even harder as Beth chuckled.
“I’ll make some extra,” Beth said.
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to taste my cooking,” Felicity said. “I’ve messed up canned soup before. Vampires aren’t meant to cook, I swear.”
“How did you manage that?” Arabella asked, as she took one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. She liked these ladies. They had easy laughs and smiles. In Arabella’s world those were the best kinds of people. Heck, Felicity was just attacked yesterday and that had to be terrifying to see your guards murdered while barely escaping with your own life. Arabella shook her head to clear the awful images.
“I didn’t read the instructions so I didn’t know I had to add a can of either milk or water. So basically it was a condensed, burnt mess.” She shrugged as if to say it happens.
Beth laughed at the apt description. “So burnt, in fact, we ended up just trashing the pot. That soup was caked and cooked to the bottom of the pan. I, for one, am an amazing cook.” She plated perfectly cooked sunny-side up eggs with crisp bacon and buttered toast, then slid Arabella a plate. Arabella didn’t hesitate to dig in with gusto. Her tongue cheered at the delicious flavors and her belly rumbled in happiness.
“This tastes so good. Thank you! I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Arabella said. The bacon was perfectly crisp, the yolk nice and gooey. It rocked.
“All that action will do that to ya,” Felicity said, stretching and yawning.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Arabella finished her plate and Felicity took it and put it in the dishwasher.
“Okay, now that breakfast is out of the way let’s get down to it. Just how much do you like Grayson?” Felicity’s bold statement took Arabella on a complete one-eighty.
Flustered, she sputtered, “W-what? I don’t like him.” Even if she did, just a little, it wasn’t right. Not with his mate murdered.
Then why did you kiss him?
She quickly shut up her internal thoughts. Now was not the time to deal with her own guilt at kissing the incredibly handsome Grayson Blackmoore.
“Mmhmm.” Beth cocked an eyebrow that clearly said: I don’t believe a word your saying. “You don’t sound very convincing. Now, Felicity told me all about—”
“Beth!” Felicity’s sharp reprimand brought her up short.
Beth held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know it was off limits.”
“Of course it’s off limits. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you. Dom told me in secret,” Felicity said.
“Then why did you tell me?” Beth cocked a hip, waiting.
“Because I didn’t think you’d be such a loud mouth about it. But now that you’ve gone and blabbed we have to tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Arabella asked, chiming into the crazy conversation.
Felicity leaned in close and spoke in a dramatic whisper. “Dominic told me that a long time ago, on the day that Grayson was to be mated to Anita, you two met and had a thing.”
Back slamming straight, Arabella fought the blush threatening to take over. “I’d hardly call it a ‘thing’. It was nothing. Nothing happened.” At least on the outside that’s how it looked. But, she’d never forgotten those moments with the handsome vampire who spoke with a gruff, unique accent she’d never heard before and seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. She could never forget that kiss, however brief it was.
“Dom tells me everything, so naturally when I heard about Anita, I started asking questions about Grayson. I felt so bad for her. She was so depressed, it was like she was stuck in an infinite loop of despair.”
Feeling more and more like the walls were closing in around her, Arabella stood thinking she could make her escape. It didn’t feel right to talk about Grayson this way without him knowing or without his permission. Not like they were speaking badly about him, but it didn’t sit right with her. Surely it had nothing at all do to with the fact that her first kiss, the kiss she shared with Grayson that died, had forever been implanted in her memory.
“Listen, it was just a kiss. A peck on the lips. That was all. It happened so long ago I doubt he remembers.”
He totally remembers. What would they do if they learned she kissed him yesterday before they arrived? She’d been unable to keep from doing it.
Beth and Felicity stood stock-still. A wave of oh-shit hit Arabella. They hadn’t known about the kiss. She wanted to run far in the other direction. How did they not know? If Dom had… Wait, she thought. Maybe Dom didn’t know about the kiss because Grayson never said anything. And, until now, neither had she. Damn it all to hell. All Dom or anyone else knew was that ‘something’ had happened between Grayson and her that night.
Now she’d admitted to kissing him on his mating day. Just great.
Before they could question her more with things she didn’t have an answer to, she thanked them for breakfast and made a beeline out of the kitchen. She hadn’t made it far when Grayson appeared from one of the rooms. Seeing him nearly stole her breath away. He’d showered and smelled like fresh soap. His hair was slick backed from his forehead. The stubble on his jawline was growing into a beard. Not that she minded, because it only made him look devilishly handsome. The dark circles though were back under his eyes and his cheeks look jaunt like a dying man. He needed to feed but he hadn’t. Why didn’t he just feed when it would help him to be even stronger? The vampire was so frustrating she just wanted to shake him. And to take care of him. He needed someone to look after him if he wouldn’t do it himself.
Challenge accepted, she thought. I will help you, Grayson Blackmoore. One way or another.
“How did you sleep?” His question took her completely by surprise.
It took her longer than it should have to reply coherently. “Fine. I slept fine.” Wow, riveting dialogue, Ara. Idiot.
He nodded, eyeing her up and down as if checking her
for bodily harm. What did he see, she wondered? An inadequate Were who couldn’t even shift, a woman longing for his kiss, or a business partner meant to track down a killer? Her bet was on the latter and it broke her heart a little.
“Um…how did you sleep?” she asked to fill the silence.
“I haven’t.”
Frustration set in hot and fast. “See, this is what I’m talking about. You don’t even take care of yourself. How can you fight at your best when you don’t even sleep?”
Instead of answering her, he said, “You were talking about me?”
Shit. Busted. She flushed, unable to disguise the reaction. “No, not really.” Well, she kind of talked about him with the girls but otherwise her thoughts were purely that—thoughts.
“Not really isn’t a no. What did you say about me, Arabella?” That accented voice wasn’t as pronounced as it’d been when he was younger and only a few years gone from his homeland. The years had dulled his accent making his tones more American sounding. It still gave his sexy voice a sensually pleasing tone that could make a woman shiver in arousal…or fear.
She still hadn’t gauged his mood. This was one she hadn’t seen before. Suddenly from behind him the door opened and a woman came out. She wore a short, pretty dress that made her look both classy and sexy at the same time. Her face was piece of art meant to be photographed and shared. Her cheeks were flushed and a mane of lush black hair cascaded wildly down her back all the way to her butt. Who on earth could grow out such long hair? Not cool.
The raven-haired beauty smiled up at Grayson and added a wink for good measure. “Later, lover!” Only a quick, uninterested glance was spared for Ara, then she waltzed out the front door. In order to not burst out with the question screaming in her head, Arabella pinched her lips together. She must look like an older woman trying to keep her dentures from falling out. The thought nearly sent her into historical gales of laughter. She managed to keep her cool though—barely.
Grayson watched her closely while she pretended to stare at a painting. Too bad the painting couldn’t keep her attention. She couldn’t make out any of the details as she was busily thinking of what Grayson had been doing with that woman. Is that why he was acting almost, nice, to her? Had he gotten a little something, something from that woman? The hussy.
She didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do. She fake-gasped inwardly at herself, even if she knew it was true.
“Is something on your mind?” Grayson asked. A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips. He cocked his head like an attentive listener. She had a feeling he was toying with her.
“Nope.” Her lips pinched together with renewed vigor.
“Do you wish to know who she is?” he asked, taking her by surprise, again. His eyes were beginning to glow with a teasing light. Or were her own eyes just deceiving her?
Her eyes nearly bugged out that he’d even asked but her response was a solitary, “Nope.” Of course she was dying to know, but she wasn’t a snoop and whatever happened between Grayson and The Hussy wasn’t her business.
“Come with me. I was just going to meet my brothers. We’re planning the attack.”
“The attack?” That sounded awful, like they were going to war. “I can’t shift or fight just in case you forgot.”
He started walking toward the back of the house, winding in and out of hallways and she followed after him. “I haven’t forgotten.”
He led her into a room she hadn’t been in before. This one looked like a high-tech war room complete with computers, maps, a round table taking up the majority of the room, and the Blackmoore men.
Dominic was drinking a glass of blood while leaning back against the bar. Vas lounged on one of the sofas like he was melting into it. He pulled out his phone and Lucas, the youngest Blackmoore son and legendary rock star among humans, vampires, and Weres alike, laughed at him. “Who’re you talking to, a new girlfriend?”
Vas sent him a scathing look. Jagged scars were etched into the side of his face. Rumors ran abundant about how they came to be. Many said it had something to do with a woman. Supposedly, ever since the ‘accident’, he hadn’t touched a woman. Too bad, because he was as devastatingly handsome as the rest of the Blackmoore family with his golden skin, raven-black hair and golden brown eyes.
Dom scowled, still looking in a foul mood from Felicity’s accident. “He can’t seem to keep off that stupid phone lately. Always texting someone.”
“It’s that girl he’s talking to,” Lucas said, grinning. He was flopped out on the sofa like he owned the thing. Grayson, and probably everyone else in the room, didn’t miss the spider-web red eyes he had, or the paleness to his skin. His brother had his own problems going on and he needed to take care of them.
“Fuck off,” Vas growled and shoved the phone into his pocket.
Lucas shrugged then his gaze settled right on Arabella. The smile he turned on her was pure masculine perfection. It said come here, little girl, so I can take a bite out of ya. She had to suppress a shiver at that wicked glance.
“She’s off limits,” Grayson said.
For a moment, everyone froze. To claim any rights over another meant you had to have a stake in that person. Usually it was because the two people in question were lovers, friends, or something. She and Grayson were nothing more than business partners and surely if she wanted to flirt with Lucas, she could. Either way, his claim was far too personal and everyone noticed it.
She thought of something quickly to divert everyone’s attention. Which is why her response, appropriately, was, “Like hell I am!”
Very slowly, Grayson faced her with a glare so potent she swore any second her hair would combust. With only his eyes he told her to shut up. Her jaw twitched with the need to say something. She was a grown woman who made mature decisions. She did not need a babysitter or a ‘master’ to tell her what she could or could not do. Even if she didn’t have any interest in the rock star Lucas.
“You work for me and since I’ve paid well for your services, I say you are off limits.” He said it so definitely her heart started racing.
“Never mind the drama,” Dom said. “We need to get to work on this plan to infiltrate the underground casino. You can begin by laying out all the information you have on the Donato case.”
Everyone grabbed a seat around the circular table in the middle of the room. Grayson started them off with a retelling of all he knew of the Donatos and how he came by hiring her services. He didn’t shy away from mentioning the Were attack in the catacombs, she noticed. Nor about how she stupidly—his word, not hers—tracked down the casino alone. Then came all the questions aimed at her. She had to re-explain how she couldn’t shift but could still track. She explained her ability as best as she could. When she finished, the Blackmoores appeared satisfied enough with her explanation and moved on to planning.
“We’ll start with disguises,” Grayson said. As he spoke, he was writing out plans and simultaneously drawing a map, which he made her approve for accuracy.
“What are we going as?” Arabella asked. In her mind she pictured over-the-top Halloween costumes and figured that wouldn’t work to make them blend in to the kind of clientele the underground casino catered to. Also, they’d stick out like a sore thumb if her disguise was of The Bride of Frankenstein. Although, her hair would be so cool if she did that.
“Ourselves,” he responded shortly.
Groaning, Dom rubbed his eyes like he was trying to gouge them out. “You know that won’t work. They know your face too well.”
“Not to mention mine,” Arabella chimed in. Grayson looked at her. The impact of his gaze made her lips start moving. Weird, only her father could ever look at her and make her talk without saying a word. “I could dye my hair, wear a dress and stuff to change my appearance. Girls have it easier when it comes to this disguise thing. You though…you’re so recognizable…from your skin color to those eyes…I don’t know how you’ll cover it up. Even with makeup.”
G
rayson still looked at her as Dom and the others started throwing around suggestions. When he slowly began to lean in close so he could whisper something in her ear for only her to hear, she surely thought someone would gasp or shout at them and they’d break apart like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Warm breath touched her ear as he spoke, “Only a fool wouldn’t recognize you in a disguise.”
What was that? What did it mean? Was he…flirting with her? He moved away and went back to the discussion as if he hadn’t just thrown her completely off-kilter.
She wanted to stomp her foot and poke him in the ribs. Most of all, she wanted to ask just what the hell did that mean?
CHAPTER 18
Arabella’s costume looked a hundred times better than she thought it would. And Grayson was wrong. She was not easily recognizable. Not now, after Felicity, Beth, and even Grayson’s step-mother, Diane, accompanied by her personal celebrity hairstylist, Eduardo, had worked their magic on her. Eduardo had styled Felicity’s hair for her mating ceremony to Dominic—the first one, which had failed and was a long story. Arabella didn’t know all the details to the story, just that it’d caused quite the stir when it happened.
They’d dyed her hair black—the complete opposite of her natural blonde hair. The color made her pale skin stand out sharply, and, strangely, it didn’t look so bad. It made her appear more exotic and daring, alluring. Or maybe that was because they’d put her in a sleek but sexy white cocktail dress that cupped her shoulders, bared a portion of her breasts and back, and did not stop high enough for her comfort. This dress had been designed to show as much skin as possible. It would match her job description. Tonight her role was that of a flirty, sexy Were named Raquel Beaumont and Jeremy Mayors was her vampire lover and date for the night. She had no idea what Grayson looked like yet, or what he was even dressing as, because when she’d finally yawned her way out of last night’s war conference they still didn’t have the details ironed out.
