The thought made her smile. Alone with Vince. Talk about living on the edge! She couldn’t think of anything more dangerous than being alone with Vince Cordova and his sexy smile. He had only to look at her and her insides melted like warm ice cream. And his voice; that deep, rich baritone that made her think of warm skin against cool sheets.
“Cara?”
She blinked at Anton. “Did you say something?”
“I asked if you were ready to order.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll have the shrimp and a house salad. And iced tea.”
Anton ordered, then sat back, wondering how best to tell Cara that her parents were vampires. His mother was anxious to get Cara out of DeLongpre’s house and out from under the vampire’s immediate protection. Of course, telling her the truth about her mother and father didn’t guarantee that she would move out, but the news was bound to come as a shock and maybe shake her faith in her parents. Even if she didn’t move out, the fact that they had kept the truth from her might serve to drive a wedge between them. If that didn’t work, well, he could always kidnap the little chit. Still, there was no need to worry about it yet. He had until All Hallow’s Eve to come up with a way to separate Cara from her parents and her watchdog in a way that wouldn’t arouse their suspicion or implicate him or his mother when Cara came up missing.
“You told me you weren’t a witch,” Cara said when the waitress moved away from the table.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The other night, I asked you if you were a witch, and you said no, but tonight you told my father you dabbled in witchcraft. Why did you lie to me?”
“Well, I didn’t know you very well, and I was afraid it might scare you off,” he lied smoothly.
“So, what kind of witchcraft do you practice?” Cara asked.
“Oh, just simple things. A woman came in last week. She was distraught because she’d lost her wedding ring and she didn’t want to tell her husband. I helped her find it.”
Cara nodded, wondering if he was telling her the truth this time, but it didn’t matter. She had no intention of going out with him again.
“There’s all kinds of Magick,” Anton explained. “Herbal magick, candle magick, animal magick, and elemental magick. Some magick is done best during a particular phase of the moon. And there are love spells, of course.”
“You mean you can make people fall in love?”
“Not exactly. But a sachet bag filled with rosemary, thyme, and sage is effective in attracting love. There are spells to attract money and spells to summon the spirits of the dead.”
Cara shivered. “Have you ever done that? Summon the dead? It doesn’t sound like a very good idea to me.”
“No, I’ve never tried anything like that.” Not yet, he thought. Alone in his room, he had tried several complicated spells, pleased when each had turned out perfectly. He definitely had the gift. One day, he hoped to be as powerful a warlock as his father had been, and if that meant dabbling in the Dark Arts, then so be it.
Dinner arrived and they spoke of trivial things. Later, after Anton paid the check, they left the restaurant.
“Where to now?” he asked. “Movies? A drive? A walk? Bowling?”
Cara glanced over her shoulder. Di Giorgio nodded at her from a discreet distance away.
“Or we could go dancing at The Nocturne,” Anton suggested.
Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. Vince might be at The Nocturne.
“Well?” he asked, “what will it be?”
“Dancing sounds good,” she said, especially if she found a way to dance with Vince.
She could scarcely contain her excitement as they made their way down the stairs to the club’s entrance.
The dark, sensual beat of the music seemed to close around Cara as she followed Anton to a vacant table in the back. A man smiled at her, his hooded eyes dark with lust. She recoiled when she saw his fangs and then laughed self-consciously as she reminded herself that no matter how real they looked, they were fake.
She didn’t know what it was that she found so appealing about this place. The people frightened her, the music made her think of dark, intimate acts.
She was disappointed when she didn’t see Vince in the crowd.
Anton asked her to dance and even though she didn’t want to be in his arms, she could hardly refuse, since she had been so enthusiastic about coming here.
The first song ended and the second one began. Anton was relating a story about something that had happened at the bookstore when one of the couples dancing nearby caught Cara’s attention. Could it be? It was!
“What’s wrong?” Anton asked.
“My parents are here!”
“What? Where?”
“Over there.”
Roshan twirled her mother around just then and caught Cara staring.
“Well, hello,” Brenna said, smiling. “What a nice surprise.”
“I didn’t know you two came here,” Cara said.
“You seemed to like it, so we thought we’d give it a try,” her father said. “We were just going to get a drink. Would you care to join us?”
Cara glanced at Anton. He was staring at her father through narrowed eyes, almost as if he hated him, yet that was ridiculous. The two had only met once before.
“Anton?”
With a shrug, he said, “It’s up to you.”
“Sure, we’d love to join you,” Cara said, wondering at Anton’s strange behavior.
Moments later, the four of them were seated at a large booth in the back.
“What are you drinking, Mom?” Cara asked when their drinks arrived. At home, her parents never indulged in anything stronger than a glass of red wine.
“It’s a club specialty,” her mother replied.
“It looks like a Bloody Mary,” Anton remarked.
“It’s very similar,” her mother said.
They talked of the weather and the upcoming election. Roshan ordered another round of drinks, though both Brenna and Cara declined.
Her parents danced together again. Cara watched them, thinking how well they looked together. They moved effortlessly, almost as if they were floating. Her father, clad in his usual black attire, looked as though he belonged there. Without even trying, he looked more like a vampire than any of the wanna-be vampires with their long black cloaks and fake fangs. Her mother, clad in a flowing yellow and orange striped skirt and white blouse, looked like she should be dancing in a sunlit field of wildflowers.
At midnight, Cara asked Anton to take her home.
“So early? You’re not going to turn into a pumpkin on me, are you?”
“No,” Cara said, grinning. “I’m just tired.”
“Very well.” Rising, he bid a cool good night to her parents.
“We’ll be along soon, Princess,” Roshan said, giving his daughter a hug.
“All right. Night, Dad. Mom.”
Cara stared into the darkness as Anton drove her home. She had so hoped to see Vince at the club. Of course, even if he had been there, she couldn’t have spent any time with him, not when she was on a date with another man, but she was disappointed just the same.
Anton pulled up in front of the driveway and Di Giorgio pulled in behind him. A moment later, the gate opened and Anton drove up to the front of the house. He put the car in park, then turned to look at Cara.
“So tell me,” he said, “how long have your parents been vampires?”
Chapter 13
Cara stared at Anton, unable to believe what she’d heard, and then she laughed. “Vampires!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“They were drinking Bloody Mariahs.”
“So what?”
“It’s not a mixed drink. It’s blood.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it? You never see them during the day, do you?”
“No,” she admitted, wondering how he knew about that, “but it’s because they have an adverse physical
reaction to sunlight.”
“I’ll just bet they do! Don’t you find it the least bit strange that they both have it?”
“I don’t know. I never gave it much thought.” She had grown up knowing her mother and father were different and even though she’d had questions from time to time, she had accepted whatever they told her as the truth. After all, they were parents; she trusted them.
“So, they sleep all day and only go out at night. Have you ever seen them eat anything? Drink a cup of coffee or a glass of water?”
“They were drinking tonight,” she reminded him.
“They were drinking blood. You don’t find that odd?”
“You don’t know that it was blood.”
“Yes, I do. I ordered a Bloody Mariah once, just to see what it was.”
“But…there’s no such thing as vampires. They’re just myths, like werewolves and fairies.” Even as she protested, Cara found herself wondering if he could be right. It would explain so many things that seemed unnatural now that he had remarked on them, things she had blindly accepted. She shook her head. It couldn’t be true. And yet, why would Anton make up such an outlandish story? What could he possibly hope to gain?
Anton placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Cara, but I thought you ought to know. It isn’t right for them to keep the truth from you.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “If you need anything, a shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, call me.”
“Yes, I will, thank you,” she said politely, her thoughts chasing themselves like a dog chasing its tail. “There’s no need for you to walk me to the door. Di Giorgio’s here.”
Feeling numb, she got out of the car, walked up the steps, unlocked the door, went inside, and closed the door behind her.
She stood there in the dark a moment, and then laughed humorlessly. If what Anton had said was true, she had been in the dark her whole life.
What if it was true? What if her mother and father were vampires?
But they weren’t her real parents. And if they were vampires, why would they want a human child? What did they intend to do with her?
She lifted a hand to her throat, then shook her head. If they meant to use her for food or some other nefarious scheme, wouldn’t they have done so by now?
Even as she told herself it was impossible, some inner voice whispered that everything Anton had said was true. It explained so many things. It explained everything.
She ran up to her room, turning on lights as she went. She felt betrayed. Her parents had lied to her. Every answer they had ever given her to explain their strange lifestyle had been a lie. She blinked back her tears, saddened because she knew that she would never trust her mother or her father again.
Vampires! They drank blood from the living. They were dead but not dead. In movies, they were generally depicted as soulless monsters who killed indiscriminately to sustain their own existence, or else they were portrayed as humorous creatures, like George Hamilton in Love at First Bite or Leslie Nielsen in Dracula, Dead and Loving It. She suspected the truth was somewhere between the two extremes, but it didn’t matter.
She couldn’t stay here any longer; she couldn’t face them, not now. For the first time in her life, she was afraid of her parents, afraid to be alone with them.
She pulled a suitcase from her closet and tossed in the contents from her dresser drawers. She filled her overnight case with the items from her bathroom, then grabbed her suitcases, her handbag, and her keys and ran out of the house.
She had to get away before they got home from The Nocturne. If it turned out that Anton had lied to her, that there really was a logical explanation for her parents’ behavior and that they weren’t vampires, well, then they could all have a good laugh about it later. But for now, she had to get away. She needed time alone, time to think, time to find out who she really was.
Roshan stood in the center of the living room. “She’s not here.”
“Maybe they went out for coffee,” Brenna suggested hopefully.
“I don’t think so.” Roshan took the stairs to his daughter’s bedroom two at a time. A single sweeping glance was all it took to tell him that she had packed her bags and left.
“But why?” Brenna asked when he told her the news. “Why would she leave? Where would she go?” Her eyes widened. “You don’t think she ran off with Bouchard?”
Roshan snorted softly. “If she was going to run away with anyone, it would be Cordova.”
“We’ve got to find her.”
Roshan paced the floor in front of the hearth. Cara had seen them at the club. She had come home, packed her bags, and left. Why? There had to be a connection. What was he missing? And where would she go?
He opened his senses, hoping he could detect her whereabouts, but he had never taken his daughter’s blood. The only way to find her would be to go outside and follow her scent.
He kissed Brenna on the cheek. “I’ll be back.”
“Wait! I’m going with you.”
“No, you stay here in case she changes her mind and comes home.”
“You don’t think anything’s happened to her, do you?” Brenna asked anxiously.
“No. I’m going out to see if Di Giorgio’s home, then I’m going to go look for her.”
“All right. Hurry!”
It took only moments for Roshan to reach the house Di Giorgio occupied at the rear of the property.
The bodyguard answered the door on the first knock. “Mr. DeLongpre,” he said, his brows rising in alarm. “Is something wrong?”
Roshan came right to the point. “Cara’s gone.”
“What?”
“You heard me. She packed her bags and left.”
Di Giorgio swore. “I…I don’t know what to say. I watched her go into the house. Saw the lights come on downstairs and then in her room. I didn’t hear her car leave, so I assumed she was in for the night, and I went to take a shower. It’s my fault, and I have no excuse, sir.”
“It’s all right, Frank. I’m going out to look for her.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll call you if I need help.”
“Very well, sir. Again, I’m sorry.”
With a nod, Roshan vanished into the night.
It didn’t take him long to find her scent. Though he was on foot and she was in her car, he had no trouble following her across the city to a hotel. He noted it was in a decent part of town.
Going inside, he stopped at the desk and asked what room his daughter was in.
“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have a listing for a Cara DeLongpre.”
Roshan didn’t argue. He left the hotel, dissolved into mist, and drifted up the stairs, his senses guiding him to Cara’s room.
Taking on his own shape once again, he knocked on the door.
“Who’s there?” Cara’s voice, hesitant, suspicious.
“Your father.”
He heard the click of the lock. A moment later, Cara stood in the doorway. A large silver crucifix dangled from a thick chain around her throat.
Roshan lifted one brow. Obviously, someone had already told her the truth. “May I come in?”
She stepped back, her fingers curling around the crucifix.
Roshan entered the room and closed the door behind him. The fear in his daughter’s eyes cut him to his very soul. “Why have you done this?”
“You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”
He considered lying and dismissed the thought immediately. Right or wrong, he had been lying to her for years. It was time she knew the truth. “Yes.” He gestured at the cross. “Do you really think you need that?”
“Better safe than sorry.” She took a deep breath. “Is my…is Brenna one, too?”
“Yes.”
Cara stared at him, tears welling in her eyes. He knew she had hoped he would deny it, that he could make everything right again.
“How did you find out?” he asked quietly.
�
�Anton told me. He said you were drinking blood at The Nocturne.”
“And you believed him?”
“Where are my real parents? What happened to them? Did you…?”
“I want you to stop this nonsense and come home with me, now. Your mother is worried.”
“She isn’t my mother. She isn’t even human.”
“Cara…”
“Where’s my real mother?”
“I don’t know. We never knew anything about her, except that she was a teenager in trouble. She needed a home for her baby, and your mother wanted a child. We helped bring you into the world late one night, and then we brought you home. You’ve been our daughter since that night.”
“All this time, you never told me.”
“Should we have told you the truth?” he asked quietly. “Would you have believed it?”
“I don’t know. How long have you been a vampire?” Cara stared at the man who had raised her. He looked the same as always—tall and dark and very handsome. His eyes weren’t blood red. She couldn’t see any fangs. His fingernails weren’t long. He didn’t smell like death.
“Over three hundred years.”
“Three hundred years.” She shook her head in disbelief. “And my…and Brenna?”
“Twenty-two years, give or take a few months.”
Cara’s eyes widened as she realized that her mother must have become a vampire the same year she herself was born.
“Did you make my…Brenna, a vampire?”
“Yes.”
“Did she ask you to?”
“No, but she was dying, and I couldn’t let her go. I was willing to live with her hatred rather than risk losing her.” He took a deep breath. “Please come home with me.”
“No. I need some time alone to sort this out.”
Roshan nodded. He could take her home by force, bend her will to his, but there was nothing to be gained by such high-handed tactics except her hatred.
Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02] Page 9
