Enthrall Me (Underbelly Chronicles Book 4)

by Tamara Hogan

  Thane saw them over by the door. “Did you guys see that?”

  “Yes,” Valerian said as they entered the sitting room. He hugged her. “That was beautifully done, my dear.”

  As Tia talked with Val and Thane, spilling her unique brand of faerie-dust charm over the men, Wyland focused on the line of sweat darkening her T-shirt along the spine. Yes, what they’d seen was a great start, but Thane had given her advance warning. Once Tia could reliably repel a surprise attack, she’d be less susceptible to being thralled by older, stronger vampires. And then the real work would start, with her learning how to shield her thoughts from someone with whom she shared a blood bond.

  Training he could assist with, because she’d shared her blood with him.

  Across the room, Thane’s eyes danced.

  Tia approached him. She was tired, but healthily so, exhilarated by her accomplishment. Grasping his tie, she pulled his head down and kissed him—just a light kiss, a gentle meeting of pursed lips. As if touching and kissing him in front of his family was something that happened every day.

  “Hello,” she said softly.

  “Hello.” He could still smell Chadden on her body. He hadn’t known she planned to go to Underbelly, or to any of the other places Nick’s report had mentioned. Instead of staying here, safely at her desk as he’d envisioned—as she’d led him to believe—Tia and Nick had crisscrossed the greater Twin Cities metro area since he’d seen her last. After spending nearly an hour at Tia’s house in Stillwater, they’d gone to a convenience store in Anoka, where Tia had met with a young female—one of the sexually exploited teenagers she worked with?—while Nick stayed in the car. Then they’d gone to Underbelly, where she’d stuck to Diet Mt. Dew, distracted a very uncomfortable Scarlett, and chatted with Bailey and Chadden, sitting close enough to the other man that his scent had transferred.

  On the other hand, Chadden had no doubt smelled him on her. All over her.

  “What’s that smile for?”

  Nothing he could share with her. “I watched the last of your training,” he said instead. “You seem to be a natural.”

  Though she shrugged off his compliment, she looked pleased. “Thane thinks something about my faerie blood amplifies my abilities, though we haven’t yet figured out how.” She bit her lip. “Sorry again about the machine,” she said to Thane.

  “No worries.”

  “What happened to it?” he asked.

  “She blew it out on the first try.”

  Tia blew on her fingernails, then buffed them against her T-shirt. “My work here is done.” Stepping back, she pivoted. “Guys, I really need a shower. Then…” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’m off to bed.”

  The look latched on, nearly tugging him along in its wake. It was a fight, but he held steady. “Good night,” he managed.

  “Good night, my dear,” Valerian said as he and Tia kissed each other’s cheeks.

  Thane did the same. “Sleep well, Tia.”

  She went into the hallway. After a short pause, he heard a bedroom door open and close.

  His bedroom door.

  Blood pounded, hard and hot, in every extremity.

  Valerian and Thane stared at him. “Follow her, you stupid git,” Thane said. “Do you not recognize a sexual invitation when you receive one?” He turned to Val. “And here I thought we’d raised an intelligent man.”

  “So much for that genius-level IQ.”

  He shot them both a death glare.

  “I wish you’d given me some advanced warning that you’d decided to take a lover,” Thane continued. “I would have baked a cake to celebrate. No candles, of course. We wouldn’t want to burn the house down, would we?”

  Damn it. He’d never hear the end of this.

  Thane glanced at his watch, then cursed. “I have dough that needs my attention.”

  Val’s face lit. “Are you making cinnamon rolls?”

  “Just for you.” Leaning closer, Thane murmured something that made rosy color climb into Val’s cheeks. They kissed, and Thane left the room.

  Wyland simply stood there.

  “Why so indecisive?” Val asked.

  He opened his mouth, and then closed it again without saying anything. How could he put such confusion into words?

  “She’s nothing like Deirdre.”

  Trust Val to zero in on the crux of the matter.

  “Come sit for a moment.” Val headed for the couch. “These old bones of mine need a rest.”

  After a glance back at the hallway, Wyland followed, ready to support Val, but the other man waved him off. Old bones or not, Val looked strong and spry, and his cheeks were still ruddy with color. Whatever Thane had murmured was effective medicine indeed. “Are we going to talk about the birds and the bees?”

  Val laughed. “It’s centuries too late for that. But seriously, Wyland—though they may share some surface similarities, Tia is nothing like Deirdre. Their personalities are like sun and shadow. Day and night.”

  It helped to hear Val say it, but….

  “If that venal harpy wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself,” Val snapped.

  “Why?”

  “For causing you to question your own judgment for so long.”

  Wyland absorbed the bracing slap of his words. Recognized the truth in them.

  “Your dedication to our people, and the decisions you make on their behalf, are impeccable. The work you do to protect our culture’s history, and to ensure our species’ survival, is undeniable. But your personal life has been a barren wasteland for far too long.”

  “That’s a little strong. I have—”

  “Friends? Family? Work colleagues? Of course you do.” Val waved them off with a flick of his wrist. “But a lover? Ah, Wyland…a lover helps fill those dark, empty spaces. Believe me, the centuries are easier to bear with a partner at your side.”

  A partner? “Easy for you to say,” he grumbled. “You and Thane have been together for centuries. You have history. He’s proven himself trustworthy time and time again.”

  “Because I gave him a chance when we first met!”

  He couldn’t remember the last time Val had raised his voice, or flashed his fangs, in anger. Val’s cheeks were cherry red, and a vein throbbed in his left temple. Calm him down. “I’m listening.”

  “Stop looking at me like I’m about to keel over,” Val snapped. “I’m not going to die tonight.”

  Silence.

  “Damn it, Wyland, you’ve sipped from the girl. If there was a single self-serving thought in her head, you’d know it already. Don’t let a long-dead woman corrupt the relationship you could have with Tia. Do not give her that power.”

  “I’m working on it,” he finally replied.

  “Well, work harder,” Val advised, exasperated. “Other men aren’t stupid, or blind. Did you smell—”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. She’s very easy to talk to, isn’t she? And the questions she asks! She’s made me remember things I haven’t thought about for hundreds of years. I’ve quite enjoyed our conversations, though I don’t know who’s going to listen to all the recordings she insists upon making.”

  If Val only knew the plans Tia had for those recordings.

  “Wyland, she’s passed every possible background check. She’s never published information that could put our culture at risk, never even danced close to the line. Again and again, she’s complied with our culture’s confidentiality imperative, and she did so before we came to know her. She takes her responsibilities very seriously—so much so that she’s etched a reminder on her very skin.”

  He raised a questioning brow.

  “You don’t know the origin of her tattoo?” Val shook his head in disgust. “Why am I not surprised. It’s a line of dialogue from one of the Star Trek movies.”

  “I thought Star Trek was a TV show?”

  “It’s both. Anyway, the ship’s first officer, Mr. Spock, enters a radiation-filled room and makes the repa
ir that allows the Enterprise to escape their enemy, knowing all the while that doing so will kill him. When Captain Kirk realizes what Spock has done, he asks his friend why he made such a sacrifice. Spock, near death, replies, ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one.’” Val paused. “It’s absolutely heartbreaking.”

  He’d traced the tattoo’s cursive letters with his tongue, but hadn’t asked her about its significance.

  “Wyland, be honest with yourself. You wouldn’t have allowed Tia anywhere near the Archives if you didn’t, deep in your gut, already know you could trust her.”

  He wanted to deny Val’s observation, but…he couldn’t. He took a shaky breath. “Working with her at the Archives has been…enlightening,” he admitted. “She can argue a subject from every perspective, seemingly judging none.” Tia saw the world not in black and white, but in endless shades of gray. “She might not change my mind, but she makes me think very carefully about my position.”

  Val smiled, nodding. “A good partner challenges you.”

  His pulse gave a kick. “Who said anything about partners?” He was still coming to terms with the fact that he wanted to be Tia Quinn’s lover.

  “We need our partners to challenge us, Wyland,” Val said, as if Wyland hadn’t spoken. “The right partner does so in a manner that invigorates. That makes you feel enriched by the experience rather than diminished.”

  He crossed his legs to disguise his current state of…invigoration.

  “An extraordinary woman has entered your life,” Val murmured. “The man I raised would have the testes to do something about it.”

  “My testes have been plenty busy.”

  “Don’t split sexual hairs with me, boy. Where are your guts, your gonads?”

  “I told her about Bram,” he admitted. “And about Deirdre.” A little bit about Deirdre, at any rate.

  “I’m glad.”

  Rising to his feet, he said, “Do you need anything before I leave? According to Thane, a lady just issued me an invitation. It would be rude to keep her waiting any longer.”

  Val waved him toward the door. “She broke a date with me to do so.”

  A bump of guilt. “Did you and Tia have plans?”

  “Boundary training, then a movie.”

  Tia and her movies.

  “Blackula, followed by an episodic television show called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Val pursed his lips. “Her media collection is really quite fascinating.”

  “Last night, Tia suggested to me that movies, books, and TV shows have helped disguise the reality of our existence from humanity.”

  “She’s right—so stop beating yourself up about Bram and Deirdre. Let it go,” Val advised. His gaze shifted to the door, where Thane lounged against the door jamb. “Focus on the here and now, because tomorrow is promised to none of us.”

  Val was right; fate had put an extraordinary woman in his path.

  Now he had to figure out what to do about it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wyland would have been happy to laze in bed for a few more hours, but Tia had other plans. “Come on,” she said, dragging him into the garage. “If we hurry, we might make it to the animal barns before they close for the night.”

  Tia wanted to go to the Minnesota State Fair, and she wanted to drive. “Come on, live dangerously. My car’s already scratched.”

  He’d considered her untreated car windows, and the angle of the setting sun. Live dangerously, indeed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d traveled in the daylight with nothing to protect him but VampScreen and his wits. With Val’s comments about his gonads still ringing in his ears, he folded himself into her passenger seat.

  She was a good driver, confident behind the wheel, but once at the Fair, she’d stopped in front of a parking space that was too small for the car. He pointed down the row, to an opening that could easily accommodate a small RV. “There’s a good spot.” One that wouldn’t scrape the car’s paint even more, or put his hips in a bloody vice when he tried to get out.

  “This one’s closer to the entrance.”

  “By a hundred feet.” Given the miles they’d cover on foot tonight, the additional distance seemed negligible.

  After a fair amount of back and forth, and some colorful curses, she finally wedged the car into the space. If more than a foot separated his door from the Suburban parked next to them, he’d eat his shoe.

  Tia eyed the sky. “We’ll have to hurry if we want to visit the animal barns.”

  “I can smell them from here.” The ripe scents of manure, hay, and animals wafted through the air.

  “You’re a doctor, I’m sure you’ve smelled worse.” Tia grabbed her purse from the back seat. “Come on.”

  He slowly opened the car door, pivoted on the seat, and planted his feet on the pavement. Sucking in his stomach, he stood, then squirmed through the stingy space without unmanning himself. When he took his first step, he slipped, barely catching himself on the door jamb.

  Melted ice cream.

  “Are you okay?” Tia circled around to his side of the car and peered down at the melted mess. She bit back a giggle. “Oops.”

  “Is that…bacon? In the ice cream?”

  “Probably.” She leaned down. “Yep.”

  “That is absolutely disgusting.”

  She shrugged. “It’s the State Fair. If it’s not on a stick, there’s probably bacon involved.”

  Side-stepping to the front of the car, he used the patch of grass to scrape the gooey mess off his shoe.

  “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  The sun was setting, and the sky was a hazy grayish-orange. As they paid at the gate, streetlights came on, illuminating paved streets carrying throngs of foot traffic. The bright lights of the Midway glowed in the distance, and across the fairgrounds, a band played at the Grandstand.

  Tia sidled close, so their hips bumped together when they walked. Her arm suddenly curved around his waist, her hand sneaking into his back pocket. “Come on, you’re supposed to reciprocate.” Amusement danced in her eyes. “This is how lovers walk at the fair.”

  “Far be it from me not to conform to appropriate social norms.” He slipped his hand into her pocket. Resilient flesh shifted beneath the soft denim as she walked. “I see the appeal.”

  “Right?” She gave his butt a squeeze. “One of the best things about coming to the fair is people-watching.” A silent laugh shook her body. “I imagine we’re amusing more than a few people right now.”

  He raised an inquiring brow.

  “Look at us. You look like Gatsby minus his croquet mallet, and I look—”

  “Delicious.” Her denim shorts exposed a scandalous amount of skin, the frayed hems riding high on her thighs. The heavy purse she’d slung across her body pulled the neckline of her gauzy white shirt askew, exposing a bright purple bra strap. Her beat-up brown cowboy boots looked like they might have been worn to muck out a stall or two.

  When a cow mooed from inside a nearby barn, she glanced at the sky again and sighed. “We probably only have time to visit one animal barn. How about the Petting Zoo?”

  “Lead the way.”

  Several minutes later, they entered a red and white barn filled with excited children, all up past their bedtimes. He watched as Tia patiently waited her turn to pet a baby lamb. Newborn chicks, all beaks and yellow fluff, huddled under a heat lamp. Next to where he stood, all the rabbits were asleep in wire crates. “Smart animals—ow!” Wheeling around, he glared at the SUV-sized stroller that had just clipped his heel. “Damn it.”

  The child in the stroller reached into the bucket of cookies sitting on his lap. Given how many crumbs rimmed the little human’s mouth, it was far from his first. “Mommy, that man said a swear word.”

  The mom, cell phone at her ear, absently nodded. “Yes, hon. See the bunnies?” She returned to her conversation without bothering to apologize for nearly severing his Achilles tendon.

&n
bsp; His lips flattened. Common courtesy wasn’t so common after all.

  “Swearing is bad,” the boy solemnly advised him. “You’re bad.”

  “So is eating so many cookies.” The kid’s blood sugar level had to be off the charts.

  The kid’s face crumpled. “Mommy!”

  “Get away from my son!” the woman snapped, punching at a button on her phone. She shot him a dirty look as she wrestled with the gigantic stroller and hurried away.

  Damned if the little devil didn’t turn around and stick his cookie-coated tongue out at him.

  Tia was suddenly at his side. “Come here. You have to feel how soft this is.” Taking his hand, she drew him over to the lamb’s pen. Crouching down, she held out her hand and allowed the days-old lamb to sniff her before stroking it gently under its chin. “Feel this,” she marveled.

  He touched where she indicated, stroking the soft wool as she murmured to the animal. When the lamb bleated and trotted away, he pulled Tia to her feet. She was wearing the ring he’d returned to her earlier that evening. “Is this ring a family heirloom?”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s the Gem of Amara from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Thirty five bucks at Amazon.com.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s the Gem of Amara?”

  “According to the show’s mythology, it’s the Holy Grail of all vampiredom,” she informed him. “It conveys complete invulnerability to whomever wears it. Stake wounds close, burns miraculously heal, you’re immune to crosses and fire, yadda yadda yadda. The vamp who wears it can come and go in full daylight without regard for the sun.”

  He traced his finger over the gold strands encasing the green stone. The show’s writers had been right about the sun susceptibility, but stake wounds? Crosses? “What complete and utter hokum.”

  “I know it’s not real, but I like the idea of it. It’s a talisman. Wearing it reminds me to live ferociously.” She looked up at him. “Of course, on the show, its mere existence tempted far too many vampires into corruption. Angel destroyed it.” Tia suddenly twisted. “Hey, stop that.” The lamb was nibbling at the frayed threads dangling from Tia’s jean shorts.

  “Tastes good, doesn’t she?” he said to the lamb, carefully pulling the fabric from its mouth. Pulling Tia safely out of range, he kissed the ring, her hand, then the veins of her inner wrist. As he worked his way up her forearm, he added a hint of teeth.