Di Giorgio followed her as she walked under the black canopy and down the stairs. The man in the hooded black cloak looked her over carefully, then murmured, “Welcome back, mistress.”
Cara smiled faintly, thinking his raspy voice sounded like it belonged to someone who had been dead for a hundred years.
She stopped inside the entrance, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light, then walked around the edge of the dance floor to the bar. There was a vacant stool at the end and she sat down, her gaze moving around the room.
What if he didn’t show up?
“Hey, it’s about time you got here.”
Startled, she almost fell off the bar stool. “Vince! Where did you come from?”
“My mama?”
“Very funny. How did you sneak up on me like that?”
“Dunno. Just quiet on my feet, I guess.” He smiled a roguish smile. “You’re early.”
“So are you.”
“I know. I couldn’t wait.” His gaze moved over her from head to foot. She looked good enough to eat, he thought. Literally. She smelled good, too, like a fragrant breeze on a warm summer day.
“Me, either.”
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Not very productive. I kept returning books to the wrong shelf.”
“Why is that?”
Her gaze slid away from his. “I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was meeting you.”
“Ah, Cara.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. Damn, he wanted to take her home and make love to her all night long, and that was just wrong, because she wasn’t the kind of girl to settle for a one-night stand and he couldn’t offer her any more than that.
Damn! What was he doing here? There was no way they could have any kind of relationship. She was everything that was good and pure and he…he should be staked for what he was thinking!
“Vince, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Did I say something to make you mad?”
“No, darlin’.”
Darlin’. The word wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold night. No one had ever called her darlin’ before.
Vince muttered an oath. He had to end this now, before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life—and that could be a hell of a long time. “I’ve got to go.”
“Go?” She looked up at him. “But I thought…”
The disappointment in her eyes was like a dagger piercing his soul. “I’m sorry, Cara. I…” Dammit, what could he say to wipe that little girl lost look from her eyes?
“It’s all right,” she said quickly, and he could almost see her defensive walls springing into place.
“Cara, listen…”
“Hey, Cara, I was hoping you’d be here.”
Turning her back on Vince, she pasted a smile of welcome on her face. “Hello, Anton. It’s so good to see you,” she said with feigned enthusiasm.
Vince ground his back teeth together. Damn the man. The jerk’s timing couldn’t have been worse.
“Cara…” Vince laid his hand on her arm.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Oh, are you still here? I thought you were leaving.”
Vince nodded. Maybe it was better this way. Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the club.
Cara stared after him a moment, the ache she felt inside almost too much to bear. She had spent the whole day looking forward to being with Vince. She had hoped…what had she hoped? That he would be her knight in shining armor? That he would fall head-over-heels in love with her and carry her off to his castle? What a fool she had been. Things like that only happened in fairy tales.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Anton remarked.
“What? Oh, yes, it is.”
He ran his forefinger up and down her arm. “Would you like to go for a drive?”
It was the last thing she wanted, but her bruised ego wouldn’t let her refuse. Vince Cordova might not want her, but Anton found her attractive and wanted her company.
Forcing a smile, she said, “sure”. Any second thoughts she had about going out with Anton were put to rest by the knowledge that Di Giorgio wouldn’t be far behind.
Anton escorted her to his car, a late model BMW. Ever the gentleman, he held the door for her before going around to the driver’s side.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed that Di Giorgio was right behind them.
Anton tuned the radio to a station that played soft rock, then leaned back, his arm resting along the back of the seat. “Any place you’d like to go?”
“No.”
“Are you in the mood for a hot fudge sundae? I know a place that makes the best ones in town.”
Determined to have a good time, she said, “Sounds good to me.” As any woman could tell you, chocolate healed a multitude of hurts.
Cara frowned when he pulled up in front of a bookstore. “They sell ice cream here?”
“Among other things.”
He got out of the car and came around to open her door.
“The Wiccan Heart,” Cara murmured. “Are you into witchcraft?”
“Who, me?” He shook his head. “I just like good ice cream.”
She felt a shiver of unease as she stepped inside. She didn’t know why. It was a lovely place, filled with books and trinkets, crystals and candles in a wide variety of colors. There was an old-fashioned soda fountain in the back corner, complete with stools covered in shiny red leather.
Cara sat down and Anton sat beside her. He smiled at the waitress. “Two hot fudge sundaes, Lucy Mae, and don’t spare the chocolate.”
“Whatever you want,” Lucy Mae replied with a saucy grin. “Your mother was asking for you earlier. She wants you to call her at home.”
“Okay, thanks.” Anton grinned at Cara. “My mother owns the place,” he explained with a wink.
“Oh. How nice.”
“Sit tight. I’d better call and make sure she’s okay.”
“All right.” Cara watched him walk to the other side of the room, pull out a cell phone, and punch in a number, and all the while she had the feeling she should get up and go home.
She was about to do just that when Anton returned.
Moments later, Lucy Mae placed two enormous hot fudge sundaes on the counter.
“Goodness!” Cara exclaimed. “I’ll never be able to eat all that!”
“That’s what you say now, but wait until you taste it.”
It was everything he said it would be and more. “I’ve never tasted anything like this,” she said, licking a bit of chocolate from her lower lip. “What do they put in it?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
She knew he was joking, but his words sent an icy chill down her spine. She didn’t know why, but she had always been superstitious about talking about death.
“So, tell me about yourself,” Anton said. “All I really know about you is that you’re a librarian, you like hot fudge sundaes, and you live at home. What are your parents like?”
“They’re just parents like…” She started to say like everyone else’s, but couldn’t make herself say the words. “They worry about me and want what’s best for me. I’m sure your mother is the same.”
“My mother,” he murmured. “Yes, of course.”
“Is she a witch?”
“Why would you think that?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“No reason. I mean, well, it’s a normal assumption, isn’t it? I mean, she owns a Wiccan book shop, after all.”
He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Witchcraft and the occult are all the rage now, that’s all. If onions and artichokes are popular next year, she’ll change the name and the decor.”
Cara grinned. “I’d like to see that.”
“I’d like to meet your parents,” Anton said. “Any chance I could wheedle a dinner invitation for, say, Sunday?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Some oth
er night?”
She shook her head. “My parents don’t entertain.”
“Why not?”
“They just don’t.”
“That seems odd. I mean, they live in that huge old…”
Cara put her spoon down as she remembered something Vince had said. “Did you follow me home from The Nocturne the other night?”
“Me?”
“Did you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Just answer me, yes or no. Did you?”
He shrugged. “What if I did? I just wanted to make sure you got home all right. Is that a crime?”
“No, but…”
“Lots of crazies hang out at The Nocturne. I was worried about you, that’s all.”
“You needn’t worry. I’m perfectly safe wherever I go.”
“Yeah? Why is that?”
“I have a bodyguard.”
“You do? Why?”
“My parents are very protective.”
“No sh…no kidding. I don’t think I’ve ever dated a girl who had her own bodyguard.” Anton glanced around the shop. “Where is he?”
“Probably peeking in a window somewhere. He’s very discreet.” She glanced toward the door when it opened, letting in a blast of cool air and two women wearing long gray cloaks.
Cara leaned closer to Anton. “Are they witches?”
“How would I know?”
“Well, they certainly look like witches.” She glanced at her watch. “I should go, it’s getting late.”
“Since I can’t convince you to invite me to dinner on Sunday, how about if I pick you up and take you out? Just one thing,” he said with a grin, “your bodyguard has to pay for his own meal.”
Cara considered it a moment. When she said yes, it was more to soothe her bruised ego than because she wanted to go out with Anton.
As they left the shop, Cara noticed the two gray-clad women with their heads together. She couldn’t help wondering if they were talking about her.
Chapter 6
Serafina waited until Anton had gone to bed, and then she left the house, her destination Anthony’s secret lab located in an abandoned brick building on the outskirts of town. The front door was made of heavy steel. The windows were boarded up on the inside and barred on the outside, but she had a key. After unlocking the door, she stepped inside, then closed the door behind her.
She wandered from room to room before entering Anthony’s laboratory. Save for a new state-of-the art computer and printer that Anton had bought to replace his father’s old ones, the lab was just as Anthony had left it. Serafina ran her hands over the glass jars and test tubes, the beakers and flasks and funnels, and as she did so, she imagined she was touching him. She paused in front of a shelf that held several books on witchcraft, anatomy, and hematology. A small refrigerator, a microscope and an incubator shared space on a counter that stretched across half of one wall. A large gray metal file cabinet stood on one side of the door. A circle of power had been drawn on the floor in the center of the room. A gray metal table stood in the middle of the circle. A splotch of blood, now a dark, ugly brown, stained the floor.
She moved around the room, walking where he had walked, touching what he had touched. She didn’t know what had happened the night her beloved Anthony died, but from reading his notes, she was certain that Roshan DeLongpre and his witch wife had been involved.
The story of Anthony’s death had made all the papers. Speculation ran wild as to the cause of his demise and what had happened in the house the night he died. Myra’s body had been found cocooned in plastic. There had been blood on the sheets on the bed, but it hadn’t been Anthony’s blood and it hadn’t been Myra’s. The newspapers had had a field day. The headlines screamed, “Witches Run Amok in City.”
She had crossed the yellow police tape under cover of darkness, gathered up all of Anthony’s journals, personal effects, and clothing, and taken them home. After the funeral, she had placed an enchantment on one of the gravediggers, directing him to return that night, dig up Anthony’s coffin, and transport it to Anthony’s lab where a stone crypt waited. When it was done, she had erased the memory from the man’s mind and sent him on his way.
Nights when she was lonely for her beloved, she came here to the lab to talk to him. If only he had discovered the secret of immortality, he would be with her now.
She made her way down a flight of stairs and unlocked the door to a large, windowless room that had once been used for storage. Anthony’s tomb rested inside. Sometimes she opened the coffin and looked at him, and when she did, she saw him as he had been in life.
“Where are you now?” she murmured “Is your soul still in Summerland?”
She wondered if he was resting peacefully, recovering from the trials of his most recent life, or if he was reflecting on all the lives he had lived in the past. Perhaps he had rested long enough and he was already planning his next incarnation.
Hopefully he had not already been reincarnated. If so, her spell would most certainly fail.
The thought brought tears to her eyes. Sitting on the floor, she laid her head on his tomb and wept.
Chapter 7
Vince moved silently through the dark city streets. Who would have thought that being immortal would be boring? He had always been a night person, but this was ridiculous. He hadn’t expected to miss ordinary things like eating a hamburger or just walking down a sunny street. Not that he had taken that many walks when he had the chance, but he sure as hell missed it now that it wasn’t an option.
His thoughts turned to Cara, as they so often did of late. She had brought a little color into his world, made him yearn for a normal life. He wondered where she was, what she was doing.
Almost without conscious thought, he found himself standing on the balcony outside her room. His senses told him the vampires who lived here weren’t home, and he wondered again how a mortal happened to be living with the Undead. Was she their daughter? Had they been turned after she was born?
One of the French doors leading into her bedroom was partially open. Prevented by some vampire mumbo jumbo from entering without an invitation, he peered into her room. She was in bed, lying on her side facing his way, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Her hair fell over her shoulder like a river of molten gold.
She made a small, sleepy sound and rolled onto her back, and he knew she was awake.
Cara bolted upright, her gaze darting around the room. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Vince.”
“Vince! What are you doing out there?”
“I came to apologize for hurting your feelings the other night.”
She folded her arms across her breasts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?”
“No. I think you’d better go.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No.” The word was little more than a whisper. She peered at him through the darkness. What was there about him that attracted her so? She hardly knew him, yet he had been constantly in her thoughts since the moment they met. “My father will have a heart attack if he comes in and finds you out there.”
“I doubt it,” he said dryly. “Besides, he’s not home.”
“How do you know?” She glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was three AM. Where would her father be at such an hour?
She thought Vince shrugged, though she couldn’t be sure. It was silly to sit here in the dark, she thought, and turned on the light on the bedside table. “You might as well come in.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside.
Cara looked up at him, her eyes widening. “You’re bleeding!”
“What?”
“There,” she said, pointing, “on your lower lip.”
He wiped it away, thinking he would have to be more careful when he fed in the future. “I guess it’s too late to go for a walk.”
She laughed softly. “Just a little. Besides, I’m not dressed for a midnight stroll.”
“Can I see you tomorrow night?”
“I’d like that.”
He liked it that she didn’t play hard to get, and that she didn’t hold a grudge for the shoddy way he had treated her at the club. “What time should I pick you up?”
“Nine, at the library.”
“What are you, a bookworm?”
“No, I’m a librarian.”
“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever met a librarian before.”
“I love books. It’s the perfect place to work.”
“So, what does a librarian do?”
“Since our library is small, I do a little bit of everything.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I read book reviews and publishers’ announcements and catalogues to keep informed on current literature. I buy books from publishers and distributors. I keep an eye on Sarah Beth, who’s my assistant, and make sure she keeps our database up to date. I’m in charge of the story hour, and sometimes I invite authors to come and speak. When there’s nothing else to do, I help put books away.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty busy.”
“Most of the time, but I like it that way.”
He nodded. “So, where would you like to go tomorrow night?”
“Any place is fine with me.”
“How about a late movie?”
She nodded. She didn’t care where they went, so long as they were together. She gazed up at him, willing him to kiss her, disappointed once again when he didn’t.
Tomorrow night, she thought; she would get that kiss tomorrow night or know the reason why!
Roshan paused in the shadows and drew his wife into his arms. “It’s a beautiful night. Why do you look so glum?”
“I’m worried about Cara.”
“Still?”
“I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen.”
“What do you mean?” He had great respect for his wife’s intuition. “Is she in danger?”
“I don’t know. I just have this bad feeling and I can’t shake it. It’s dark energy…” She shivered. “Like Loken’s. I always felt dirty when I was around him and that’s how this feels.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared. “You don’t think he’s come back from the dead?”
Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02] Page 5
