"K…Kansas. She's from some podunk town in Kansas, man."
"What town?"
Kyle seemed to cast through his memory for the name. "Uh, Sally…somethin'. No, Salina. Yeah, Salina."
"And her parents?"
"She talked about 'em a few times. Dotty and…Roy, I think."
Luceph turned, strolling through the remnants of a wrecked life. The room reminded him of a dump. He passed a crooked mirror, his reflection warped like there was a ripple in the cheap glass. "How long were you together?"
Kyle faltered over the answer. He sat up as straight as he could, holding tighter to his ribs. His brow looked greasy with sweat. Luceph saw anger sift through the varied expressions the boy didn't seem to be able to control.
"We weren't really together. She went out with me like three times."
"You must have liked her quite a lot. You also don't take rejection very well. Either that, or you're one of the most vengeful men I've run across in a while. Hm?" Luceph made his guesses over Kyle's obsessive leanings toward Laurel. The way he tucked his chin to his chest and looked guilty told Luceph his guesses were founded in truth.
"Whatever, man. Are we done with twenty questions, here?" Kyle's attempt at bored irritation failed.
"Stand up," Luceph said. He could have squeezed the boy for more information but the nuisance wasn't worth it. Intimate details about Laurel's personal habits and demeanor could be retrieved other ways.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I got busted ribs." Kyle scowled and his eyes grew shifty. Back and forth, nervous, looking for escape.
Luceph reversed his circuit of the room until he stood before Kyle. There was no rush, no sense of urgency. He reached down and hauled the boy up by the throat. Slow, methodical. Almost mechanical.
"Your usefulness wears as thin as my patience, Kyle Weller." The wicked curve of Luceph's fangs distorted his speech.
Kyle's howl of pain turned into a scream when he realized the outcome of this meeting would be quite different than the last one. He flailed, swinging his unbroken fist and kicking his feet, face pinched and red. Luceph felt not one ounce of compassion for his plight or his fate.
Jamming his hand under Kyle's chin, he wrenched it up at a sharp angle and exposed the length of his vulnerable throat. With a vicious lunge, he sank his fangs in. Blood splashed hot and thick over his tongue.
The blows Kyle delivered were useless, ineffective. They became weaker, like his screams.
Draining him with deep swallows, Luceph held Kyle pinned until the boy's knees sagged and his flesh grew pale. When Kyle hovered on the brink of death, he sank all his teeth in and ripped out a chunk of his throat. Spatters of red streaked over Luceph's face, his clothing, the wall.
He spat out the mouthful of flesh and let go of Kyle at the same time. The young man sank to the floor, twitching, eyes open and staring at a fixed place in the room.
Luceph did nothing to try and disguise the murder. Let the police wonder and search in vain for answers. It would end up being one of those odd, unexplained situations that baffled detectives and forensics experts for years. A bite, but not quite a human one. Not an animal, either. No DNA to follow, no forced entry, no fingerprints.
Licking the blood off his teeth, he stepped into an inky sliver of shadow, leaving Kyle in the capable hands of death.
Chapter Four
Out the window of the private jet, tiny lights twinkled over the blanket of night that covered the earth. Beside herself with excitement, Laurel fidgeted with the key hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. She peered at the grid of illumination thousands of feet below, trying to guess her destination.
Three days ago, Sebastian had taken her by surprise. He'd sent a man to Mystique with an elegant, gift-wrapped box and a note attached to the top signed Sebastian X. Thorn III. Inside the box she'd found a stunning designer outfit in black and instructions that she would be picked up at six on Christmas eve.
The limousine had arrived precisely at six and whisked her away to a small airstrip. A private jet marked Thorn Enterprises waited on the tarmac. Laurel had expected to be taken to a nice restaurant in town, perhaps to Sebastian's manor for dinner. Never this.
Shocked speechless, greeted by a smiling stewardess, she'd been shown to a seat and offered a drink and dinner. Too overcome to eat a thing, she'd declined with a polite shake of her head. The interior of the plane, in ivory leather and glossy mahogany fittings, seated at least ten people.
Expecting to find Sebastian, she found a gift on the seat instead. Inside the box, nestled on a bed of velvet, lay a small silver key strung on a fragile chain. The note read: Dear minx, don't be afraid. I will be awaiting you when you reach your destination. Yours, Sebastian.
The necklace with the mysterious key had been fastened around her neck and since then, she'd fussed and fidgeted, curious and impatient about his secretive plans.
Laurel knew Sebastian was a man of means, but she'd never dreamed he would do something like this. That his wealth was this great. This was how the other side lived, not a small town girl from Kansas. She felt privileged and special and overwhelmed.
The patchy rows of lights below gave way to a multitude of them, a veritable sea stretching in all directions. She clapped a hand over her mouth when she knew.
"Oh, he didn't."
The plane banked around New York, coming in for a landing. The city that she'd been desperate to reach for two years-- no, much longer than that-- was suddenly right there. Right out the window that she fogged with her breath, staring with wide eyes and child-like wonder.
They taxied down the runway lined with lights and finally came to a stop. Laurel gathered the two presents she'd brought for Sebastian, sliding on the overcoat that went with her outfit, and followed the stewardess to the stairs.
A cold wind buffeted her at the top step. Below, standing on the tarmac in a pristine suit of black, was Sebastian. He looked confident, calm. Collected. Like this was an every day experience. For him, maybe it was.
For her, it was the culmination of a dream. Descending the steps, trying to be sophisticated and worldly, she met his eyes and flashed a grin. Forgetting herself, she hurried down the final few stairs and flew right into his outstretched arms. "I can't believe you did all this," she said, breathless.
He caught her with a rumbling laugh and held her against him. "This is only the beginning," he said near her ear.
"We're in New York!" She leaned back to see his eyes, the wind whipping her hair around her face.
"Yes, we are. You look lovely,” he said, staring down at her with a subtle smile.
"Thank you. For everything," she said, reaching up to indicate the key around her throat.
He glimpsed it and his smile deepened. "You're welcome. Come, let's go."
Sebastian ushered her across to a waiting limousine while her things were stowed in the trunk. New York seemed welcoming and warm and exciting all at the same time. She let him hand her inside, where a dozen red roses waited on the seat in a box with a cellophane lid. She admired them, setting her gifts for him next to her thigh.
Sliding in beside her, he thumped the door closed.
She caught him watching her as the limo pulled away, winding them deeper into the city.
"I have missed looking at you," he said.
Laurel reached out to touch the back of his hand with her fingers and he clasped them to brush a kiss against her knuckles.
"And I've missed you." She watched his mouth on her skin and familiar heat uncurled in her stomach.
Sebastian regarded her as intently as he ever had, making and holding eye contact as long as she cared to give it. It was almost impossible to believe he was here, that they were in New York.
"I wish I would have bought a throwaway to take some pictures,” she said, finally dragging her gaze from his face to the window. Photographs and memories would be the only thing she had when they returned to Sperling.
A hissing noise drew her attention
back to Sebastian. He depressed a button on the armrest and spoke to the driver. "Eric, find a camera shop and purchase one for Miss Mayfield."
Eric's voice bled into the back of the limo. "Yes sir."
Laurel's jaw went slack with surprise. Sebastian reached over to nudge her chin closed with a finger.
"I want you to have what you need," he said with amusement.
"You'll spoil me."
"I hope so," he said.
Laurel sat in wonder, staring at the glint in his eyes, the curve at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't help but feel lucky and blessed. Half the time she thought she'd wake up and find out it was all an incredible dream. That men like Sebastian didn't really exist. Not in her world. Not in her lifetime.
The limousine stopped and Eric got out. He went into an exclusive looking camera shop that Laurel glimpsed past Sebastian's profile. She didn't think it was the right kind of place to purchase a throw away, but they knew this town better than she did. After Eric returned and handed a leather case through the rolled down window, Laurel realized she should have known Sebastian wouldn't do anything by half.
Inside the case, she found a top of the line model with extra batteries and accessories.
"Sebastian…"
"Shh," he said, a gleam in his eyes. "I'm pleased you like it." Stretching his arm along the back of the seat, he toyed with the ends of her hair.
Sebastian started the tour of the city with the huge tree in Rockefeller Center. Thousands of lights glittered on the limbs. They posed in front of it at Laurel's request while a stranger snapped the first photos of them together. They looked happy, the lady said, after capturing one with them staring into each other's eyes.
"Would you like to skate?" he asked, when they came to the rink.
"I'd love to. Will you go with me?" She watched the way his attention slipped past her to the skaters. He seemed bemused by her request. Laurel had the notion that it had been a long time since he'd indulged in something so frivolous.
He glanced down and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I'd rather watch you skate, I think."
Sebastian ended her debate over whether to go without him when he rented her a pair of skates, helped her put them on, and guided her to the edge of the ice. His desire to see her have a good time was too genuine to ignore.
She wobbled her way around the perimeter of the rink, risking her delicate balance to wave. The merry mood of the other skaters was infectious and she added her laughter to theirs, arms pinioning in circles whenever she grew unsteady on the blades. On her second rotation, Laurel noticed how set apart Sebastian was from the rest of the crowd, how stoic. He watched her and the immediate vicinity with hawkish intensity, almost like he was on alert for danger. Against the rest of humanity, she was more aware of his differences, his dark elegance.
Afterward, breathless and rejuvenated from the cold, she traded the skates for her shoes.
"How long are we staying tonight, Sebastian?" she asked.
"I thought I might entice you to stay all night, so I took the liberty of booking us rooms," he said, watching her for reaction.
"Oh, I'd love that! -- but I didn't bring a change of clothes or underwear." The second the words were out she covered her mouth with her fingertips, brows arched.
Sebastian's expression went from studious to wolfish. "I promise you will have everything you need to be comfortable, wife."
Laurel laughed at the tease. "Are we going to the hotel now?"
"Yes, but only to change." He offered an elbow to escort her back to the limousine, glancing both ways along the street before joining her inside.
The hotel turned out to be one of the most lavish in New York. At the penthouse, she discovered the secret to the key he'd given her. He stood at her side while she opened the door to the suite with it, enigmatic and expectant. She gasped at the elaborate decorations he'd arranged for the occasion; tiny white lights lit up every conceivable space and a huge tree had been brought in and decked out with traditional bulbs and ornaments. Peonies and poinsettias sat in pretty vases on every surface.
"Sebastian, it's beautiful. I can't believe you did this!"
"I wanted it to be as much like a traditional Christmas for you as I could make it,” he said, hovering near.
She turned to throw her arms around him, hugging him tight. He held her close, protective, burying his nose in her hair.
"You can't open any of the presents until tomorrow evening when I arrive, though."
"Not even one?" Smiling, she leaned back to see him.
"Not even one."
"I guess I'll survive." She feigned an exaggerated sigh that drew a low laugh from him.
Laurel released him to explore the suite, which was expansive and luxurious, as well as the stunning view of Central Park from the balcony.
In the master bedroom, she found a dress already draped on the bed, something elegant and expensive that took her breath away. It took his away too, she noticed, when she stepped out wearing it some long minutes later.
"You look stunning," he said, standing by the french doors, a glass of wine in his hand.
"Thank you. Sebastian, this is so much more than I'd hoped for." She smoothed her palms over the black silk at her hips, noting that he'd changed into an impeccable suit of black with a silvery tie knotted at his throat. Again, Laurel was struck by the otherness about him. That indefinable something she couldn't ever name.
"And yet, it's still not complete,” he said, nudging her out of her reverie.
"Not complete?" she asked with an inquisitive tilt of her brow. Lingerie came with the outfit as well as shoes-- all of which she already wore. What else could there be?
On the flat of his hand, he presented a square box, too large to hold a ring or a bracelet.
She sought his eyes and found him watching her with desire and expectant curiosity. Reaching out, she lifted the lid. Inside, she found a tiered necklace made of more diamonds than she'd ever seen in her life. Hundreds of them sparkled and shined.
"Oh, Sebastian." Beauty aside, it must have been worth a small fortune. If she'd ever doubted her ability to tell the difference between real diamonds and fake ones, she didn't any longer. The piece felt and looked exquisite, the workmanship so pristine she was almost afraid to wear it. God forbid she lost it.
He somehow guessed that she thought it was on loan, because he said, "I thought it was a fine selection to begin your collection. We'll get you a safe for your closet in Mystique."
"I…yes. Sebastian, I never expected--"
"I know." He gathered the necklace and stepped behind her, draping it around her throat so he could secure the clasp at her nape. Dwarfing her in size, he lurked with his head bent low, mouth nearly grazing the naked slope of her shoulder.
In the end, she was sorry that his lips didn't make contact. Skimming a touch over the fiery stones, she took a moment to will her heart back into a normal rhythm. Meeting his eyes when he came around front, she put her hand in his outstretched one. Trusting. Faithful. The reaction she had to him was potent, raw. His bordered on possessive, claiming her with a glance, a touch. They exchanged so many things in the looks they shared without ever saying a thing. When he did speak, his voice had taken on a raspy edge.
"Are you ready to go, cara mia?"
"Yes, ready." If they didn't leave the room soon, she thought, they wouldn't be leaving at all.
Sebastian swept her off to the ballet, charming her with his chivalry and dark grace. Surprised and delighted when they arrived, she took in the elegant façade of the building. The long, red carpet leading to the front doors and the couples who made their way inside. Several of the women passed sultry glances over Sebastian, openly come-hither and suggestive.
Laurel held his elbow a little tighter without even realizing it. Not until he flashed her a knowing glance and a sly smile. He seemed to be aware of the attention and chose to play it off with casual politeness, nodding to a few of the patrons he knew.
I
n a luxurious, private box, they watched a stunning rendition of the Nutcracker. Side by side, chairs positioned so that her thigh brushed his whenever she moved, they sipped wine and ate chilled strawberries, sharing glances and smiles that made her feel strangely boneless and weak. It dawned on her that she was more than a little smitten with him.
Under the music, Sebastian remarked that the lead ballerina was Nina Chernov, an acquaintance of his. Laurel thought the woman a most exquisite dancer and was excited learn that they would be making a stop backstage when the show was over. After the closing curtain, Sebastian escorted her through the halls, stopped by no one, and arrived at Nina's door.
Laurel's first visit behind the scenes was enhanced by the lovely ballerina who greeted her and Sebastian with kisses to each of their cheeks. They spent several minutes congratulating her on the show, and when Laurel found out that Nina would be spending Christmas alone, she invited the dancer to spend it with her. Sebastian had business meetings until dusk and he seemed pleased that she took initiative, squeezing her hand in his. He went a step further and told them he would arrange for luncheon to be delivered to the suite.
Using the edge of her fingernail, Laurel wrote thank you across his palm for his ready acceptance of her unexpected plans. It spiked the chemistry between them, and after they left the ballerina, Sebastian cornered her against the wall in the hallway. Bustling with people when they arrived at Nina's door, the corridor was now empty. The shadows seemed to coalesce overhead, at their sides. Laurel felt cloistered with him, like the hallway was a private alcove cleared of bodies just for them.
He traced her lip with his finger and drew a line over her chin. They said many things with their eyes instead of their mouths; he told her he wanted her, desired her, meant to one day make her his. She told him she wanted him to, that she liked him this close, wanted his mouth on hers.
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