For the first time, Keelie looked a bit nervous. “Griff, what are you thinking?”
He tongued the sharp tip of his fangs. “You’re a smart woman, Keelie. Figure it out.”
She backed away in a hurry. Once again, she should’ve known better than to retreat in front of a vampire. He followed her step for step, not wanting to scare her, but unable to stop himself, not with the urge to mate clouding his head.
“Damn it, woman, stand still before I do something we’ll both regret.”
He closed his eyes and fought for control. Finally, he crammed the lid back on his temper. He stepped back and bowed slightly.
“I apologize again. Now go inside and make nice with your guests. When you leave, make sure you’re not alone. I wouldn’t put it past Becan to come sneaking back. He doesn’t handle being thwarted very well.”
“And you do?”
At least she was smiling. “I’m not sneaky. If I want something—or someone—I’m far more direct in my approach.”
Those caramel eyes reflected both the moonlight and a bit of curiosity. “Is that a warning?”
“More like a promise. Now go before I rethink my decision to behave.”
Then she surprised them both and grabbed his lapels to drag him down for a kiss. They were both breathing hard when she finally broke it off.
“That still doesn’t mean I trust you.”
Yes, it did or she’d never have let him stay, much less kiss him.
Rather than point that out, he said, “We still need to talk about whatever it was that your mother left you.”
The light in Keelie’s pretty eyes immediately dimmed. Perhaps a cloud had passed over the moon, but he was pretty sure that he was the one responsible for that flash of pain.
“I’ll be at your house tomorrow sometime after sunset.”
She jerked her head in agreement and walked back inside.
Once she was out of sight, he picked out a place where he could watch over the parking lot without being seen. Yeah, she could take care of herself, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to have some backup in place. Just in case.
Chapter 6
Keelie stared up at the ceiling. After her alarm had gone off, it took her a few seconds to figure out exactly where she was. Finally, she remembered checking into the hotel just before dawn.
It had only made sense to stay in town rather than drive all the way back out to the house. Her aunt’s attorney had approached her last night after the memorial service asking her to meet with him. With everything else going on, she’d tried to put it off until next week. But he’d insisted the matter couldn’t wait, so she’d reluctantly agreed.
Something was definitely going on, but she had no idea what it could be. If it were just her mother’s will, surely that could have waited a few days. Nothing was making any sense.
She’d been so tired that she’d barely taken note of her surroundings before tumbling into the bed and falling asleep.
Unfortunately, her dreams had been anything but restful. The image of Becan Tyler’s fangs haunted her as he lunged at her throat. When Griffon thwarted his cousin’s attack, the flash of his fangs had a totally different effect on her. After vanquishing their mutual foe, Griff had led her in a dance of celebration—as in some of the most amazing imaginary sex she’d ever had. Even now, she ached with the need to finish what her dream self had started. Or maybe she’d kick-started the dream herself by giving into the impulse to kiss Griff last night. What had possessed her to do something so foolish?
She closed her eyes against the confused torrent of emotions flooding through her. How could she be thinking of that vampire in those terms while knowing he’d been involved in her father’s death? It made no sense. Had her mother been thinking clearly when she’d told Keelie to trust him? Was Griff a good man and not the monster she’d always thought him to be?
Thinking in circles accomplished nothing. It was time to make some plans. First, she’d get dressed and eat. Then off to see the attorney before going back home. She’d have the place to herself because Dorothy had requested some time off before returning to her duties.
The house would be doubly empty with both the housekeeper and Keelie’s mother gone. At least she’d have some privacy while she sorted through things, deciding what to get rid of and what to keep. And maybe she’d finally find the courage to read the letter her mother had left for her.
Time to get moving.
Keelie dug her nails into the palms of her hands, needing that small bit of pain to convince herself that she wasn’t caught up in a nightmare. No, she was really sitting across from her aunt’s lawyer, who’d just succeeded in destroying her life.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fogarty,” she said, although why she felt the need to apologize for anything escaped her. “Would you repeat that?”
The elderly lawyer sighed and turned his eyes back to the document in his hands. “The aforementioned house belongs to the Tyler vampire clan. You have one week to evacuate the premises, at which time you will turn the keys over to their legal representatives. Failure to do so will result in immediate legal action.”
Finally, he set down the thick sheaf of papers and took off his glasses. “I’m sorry, Miss Bronson. I’ve only been your aunt’s attorney for the past five years. She never mentioned any of these arrangements to me. On the plus side, at least she did leave you a tidy amount in a trust fund, enough for a down payment on a place of your choosing.”
He sighed heavily again. “As much as I’d love to tell you there’s been a mistake, I can’t. I’ve studied this file and even consulted with my partners. There are no loopholes and no explanations why the courts gave Lydia free use of the house for her lifetime.”
That’s because no explanations were necessary. It had been Griffon Tyler’s way of assuaging his guilty conscience.
She was absolutely furious, but the attorney wasn’t a suitable target for her anger. If her mother was still alive, they’d definitely be having words over this, but she wasn’t. That left one person—Griff Tyler.
And she’d kissed the bastard. Twice. She fought the urge to scrub her lips with the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away all memory of his mouth pressed against hers. She settled for a breath mint.
Rising to her feet, she picked up the copies of the legal documents that Mr. Fogarty had provided her with. “Thank you for…”
Her words drifted to a stop because she couldn’t think of one thing she was grateful for.
“I’ll be going now.”
He followed her to the door. “If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I wish things could have been different.”
“Me, too, Mr. Fogarty. Me, too.”
Keelie parked her transport in front of the house that was no longer her home while she tried to decide exactly what it was she was feeling. It felt like—nothing. She was numb. She’d lost too much, too fast, for her mind to be able to process any more pain.
For the moment, all she could do was stare at the two stories of wood and glass where she’d lived with her mother since the death of her father. It had never occurred to her to wonder how her mother could afford such a place. As a child, she’d accepted everything at face value, but she’d outgrown that excuse years ago.
She couldn’t sit outside all night. There was a ton to pack and not much time to do it. She’d called ahead to have a local moving company drop off a shipping container and a load of boxes.
Time to get started.
After grabbing her suitcase, she headed for the front door. About halfway to the house, the back of her neck started itching, as if someone was watching her every move. When she reached the porch, she set her bag down and slowly looked around, hoping whoever was watching her would think she was simply taking time to enjoy the spectacular sunset.
As soon as she turned, the feeling disappeared. If someone had been out there, he was gone now. Maybe she was being paranoid, but then considering how screwed up her life h
ad become, she had good reason to feel that way.
Time to get the pile of flattened boxes inside and set the deadbolt. She’d feel a whole lot better with the stout thickness of the door between her and the outside world. After half a dozen trips carrying in the packing supplies, she locked the door and headed for the kitchen. She’d eat a quick meal before boxing up her life.
An hour later, she set her dish in the sink. She’d lingered too long over a simple sandwich. No more excuses. It was time to take that first hard step. After picking up a stack of boxes, she eased through the door into her mom’s room. Bracing her load against the doorframe, she flipped on the light.
One look at the room and her lungs froze in her chest. The boxes slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor as she stared in shock at the chaos that lay in front of her.
What had happened? The drawers had all been upended on the floor, and the closet had been stripped bare. Even the mattress and box springs had been slashed apart, the stuffing thrown around the room like clumps of dirty snow.
One part of her was in fierce denial at the sight of so much damage, but her heart knew the truth. Far too much hatred and anger had gone into the total destruction for it to be a simple break-in. The intruder had been searching for something. She had to think he hadn’t found it. That was the only way to explain the broken and battered remains of her mother’s collection of porcelain wolves.
She knelt down to pick up the only one that had somehow escaped unscathed, drawing comfort from its familiar shape. When she could bear to look up, she studied the mess. Where to begin? Calling the police certainly, but they’d want explanations, ones she didn’t have.
She’d check out the rest of the house and then decide what to do. Her chancellor hearing would’ve warned her if someone else was still inside. She peeked into Dorothy’s room off the kitchen. Neat and tidy, just like always. Either the intruder didn’t think Dorothy had anything worth stealing or else he’d run out of time to search her quarters.
Upstairs, Lydia’s home office was a mirror reflection of her bedroom. There wasn’t a single surface left unscathed, not an item left unbroken. Keelie ached with grief over so much wanton destruction as she moved down the hall to face her own room.
The door stood ajar. Even from a distance she could see the floor was strewn with a trail of debris. Gathering the tattered remnants of her courage, she took a leaden step forward. Things. They were just things. Not all could be replaced, but she’d still have her memories.
She pushed the door open with her fingertips, still hanging back as far as she could. Eventually she’d cross the threshold, but not yet. Maybe when she could draw a full breath. Maybe when the knot in her stomach loosened.
Maybe never.
Somewhere downstairs glass shattered. A second later, it happened again—closer this time. One more time and she was bolting for the stairs, her fangs running out and demanding a blood price from whomever was out to destroy her life.
She hit the bottom step as a cloud of black smoke came roiling out of her mother’s bedroom. Thick and oily, it ghosted through the hallway, consuming all the breathable air. Its mate came slithering out of Dorothy’s room, blocking the way to the back door.
Survival instincts took over, thinking for her when she couldn’t put a coherent thought together. Choking when she hit the solid wall of smoke, Keelie dropped to the floor and crawled, hoping to buy the few seconds she needed to reach the front door.
Desperate with sure death dogging her footsteps, Keelie crawled over broken glass, grateful for the thick denim of her jeans. In the living room, she grabbed her purse and the overnight bag from the bench by the front door.
Only then did she open the door and go stumbling outside, leaving the nightmare behind her as she ran out into the darkness.
Chapter 7
Griff yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, sending his transport barreling toward the ditch. Even with his vampire reflexes, he only narrowly missed Keelie as she stumbled out in front of him.
Was she out of her effing mind running out into the road like that?
Then she wheeled around and dropped to her knees. His vampire eyes, better suited to the night than the day, saw all too well the tears streaming down her face as she hugged herself and keened in heartbreaking grief.
What was wrong? Sure, she’d just lost her mother, but that didn’t account for why she’d choose to cry in the middle of the road. Even allowing for the fact there wasn’t much traffic out this far, she wasn’t that stupid. He slammed the vehicle into Park and took off running.
That’s when he noticed her face was reflecting a red flickering light. He slowed to a stop in stunned silence. The crackle and pop of a fire raging out of control overrode the normal night sounds. The flames were licking at the roof of her house, the interior already an inferno. Hell, even her vehicle was burning.
He reached for his phone to call it in. It was obviously too late to save the house, but hopefully the fire department could contain the damage to the immediate area. If the flames reached the grasslands behind the house, there would be no stopping it.
While he provided the necessary information, he cautiously approached Keelie. She was clearly caught up in the throes of a powerful emotional meltdown. That was understandable, but it also meant she might not recognize friend from foe.
“Keelie.”
No response other than her tears slowed. In stark silence, she stared at the raging dance of the fire lighting up the night. He stripped off his jacket and gently settled it over her shoulders, wishing there was more he could do to ease her pain.
He knelt down on one knee, putting himself at eye level. “Keelie, honey, are you hurt? Were you inside when the fire started?”
She drew a shuddering breath. He still wasn’t sure if she really knew he was there, but then she spoke.
“Why would you burn the place, Griff? You ordered me evicted from the house, but the lawyer told me I had a week. Do you really hate me that much?”
Her words, an equal mix of anger and hurt, battered at him over the roar of the approaching fire trucks. He leaned in close to make sure she heard his response.
Gently cupping her chin with his hand, he tipped her face up just enough to make sure she heard him clearly.
“You haven’t known me all that long, but that doesn’t mean you don’t know me well. I have three things to say, and you’d better damn well believe me.”
He held up one finger. “First of all, I don’t know a damn thing about any eviction notice.”
Two fingers. “Even if I had wanted you to move, I wouldn’t set fire to the place and risk destroying my only chance of reading that letter your mother left.”
When he raised the third finger, he narrowed the distance between them until only a breath of smoky night air separated them. “And I sure as hell don’t hate you.”
Then he settled his lips over hers, letting his kiss speak of things he wasn’t yet ready to put words to. She moaned under his gentle assault, her hands frantically seeking something to hold onto. He guided them up around his neck as he settled her against his chest. When she didn’t fight his embrace, he slowly rose to his feet, taking her with him.
The fire department had turned out en masse. Obviously Griff’s name carried enough weight to pull out all the stops. Within minutes the road and driveway teemed with men and women carrying axes and dragging hoses. At least no one offered false platitudes about their chances of saving anything as they hosed down the burned-out shell of her transport.
All she had left in her life was her purse and an overnight bag. Well, and a borrowed jacket and a vampire’s arm around her shoulders. When she shivered, he pulled her in closer to his body. It felt good. Too good.
She had to be out of her mind. How did she go from mourning the loss of all that she had to once again kissing Griff Tyler like there was no tomorrow? As much as she’d like to blame it on a near-death experience, she couldn’t. Terror may have sent he
r running into the night, but that didn’t mean she should seek sanctuary in Griff’s arms.
But that’s exactly what she’d done and, what’s more, she couldn’t muster up either the energy or the desire to step away from him. Right now one of the yellow-coated firemen was looking in their direction, a chancellor, judging by the flash of fangs when he spoke to the fire chief. A second later he started toward them, his face grim, his dark eyes suspicious.
“Mr. Tyler, I’m Inspector Collins. I understand that you’re the legal owner of this property even though Miss Bronson and her mother were the residents.”
Griff nodded. “Actually, it belongs to my clan. As friends of the clan, the Bronsons were given use of the place years ago.”
Friends of the clan? That was news to Keelie. Before she could say anything Griff gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. A warning? She casually stepped away, unwilling to let Griff control the conversation. Maybe the chancellor hadn’t picked up on the silent communication, but Griff had read her message loud and clear.
Or maybe she was wrong about that. The investigator’s eyes narrowed as he studied the two of them.
“Do either of you know of any reason that someone would burn down the house?”
Images of Griff’s cousin Becan popped into her head, but once again he warded off anything she might have said. “No, we don’t, Inspector.”
The man clearly wasn’t buying it. “How about you, Miss Bronson? Any problems with anyone? When you came home, did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”
“I’ve been gone since early yesterday. When I came home I had the strangest feeling I was being watched.” She shivered again. “When I didn’t see anyone, I went inside.”
A Vampire's Vindication Page 3
