Voracious - (Claire Point Vampire 5)

by V. K. Forrest

  She thought for a moment. “I think I figured that out.”

  He took a sip of his beer. “Can you control it? Stop it?”

  She shook her head. “I wish. The easiest thing is to just not touch people.”

  “Makes for a solitary life.”

  “I have my daughter,” she said with a shrug.

  “Guess that means you touched someone,” he teased.

  She looked down at the table, averting her gaze. “I don’t want to talk about him. Ever.” A group of customers came into the bar. There must have been a dozen people, men and women. “I should get back to work.” She said it with what seemed like conviction, but she made no move to rise.

  “I’d rather you sat here with me.”

  “Kenzie would rather eat than not.”

  “Pretty name. How old is she?”

  “Ten. We live upstairs. She has a nanny. Two of them, actually. Sisters who keep an eye on her when I can’t. Kenzie is . . . special.” Dallas didn’t know what made her say that. She never talked to strangers about Kenzie.

  “I bet she is. In what way in particular?”

  She gave his arm a gentle push. He was muscular under the leather jacket. Very muscular. And big. Enormous. “Tat’s going to be swamped behind the bar. You’re going to have to let me out.”

  “Will you let me take you out?” he asked, not budging.

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “I don’t really date. I don’t have time. Not with Kenzie and the bar and . . . all.”

  “Okay, but you must eat. Breakfast? Lunch?” He waited. “Or I could just sit here and wait until the bar closes.”

  She closed her eyes for a minute. What was she thinking? She could not go out with this man. She had no room in her life for this man. For any man. “Aedan, you don’t want to go out with me.”

  “Your evil powers don’t work with me,” he whispered, his tone teasing and yet somehow protective. His breath was warm in her ear. “Come on. Brunch. With me, tomorrow. You can bring your daughter. She can be our chaperone.”

  Dallas couldn’t make herself say no.

  “Come on,” Aedan dared. “Champagne brunch at Victoria’s. You can meet me there. You don’t even have to get in a car with me. How much safer could a date be?”

  “I can’t have a relationship with you, Aedan,” she said quietly.

  “I can’t have one with you, either,” he responded, with equal seriousness. “So how about we just make it two friends going out for brunch? And I’m serious. Bring your daughter.”

  “I really have to get back to work.” She pushed hard on his shoulder this time, and he slid out of the booth.

  “Eleven o’clock. Victoria’s. You know where it is?”

  She climbed out of the booth. “I know where it is.”

  “Eleven o’clock.”

  “You said that,” she said with a smile.

  He grabbed her hand, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.” He gave her hand a squeeze without relaying a single memory, and then he let her go.

  I was not certain traveling to America would be a good idea. The long plane ride, the tedious security measures. All of this just to taunt a vampire. The venue had not, at first, excited me. I know better places to hunt. I am of the world so infrequently that I do not like to waste precious time. I like familiar ground; I like large cities where it is easy to lose oneself among the humans. But now that I am here, now that I have had a taste of blood, I find that this place may offer a unique opportunity.

  I like the beach that is nothing like the rocky, cold shore of home. The sunshine is warm on my face. And the women, they are so beautiful, so nubile, so . . . trusting. And they are not afraid to scream. Of course I cannot allow them to scream. But I like the idea of it. And I like the idea that the vampire pursues me. It adds a certain thrill to the hunt. I was lucky that I was able to find him so easily through contacts in Paris.

  I do not know yet how I will handle him, ultimately. For now I just want to mock him. Make him angry. He is no match for my cunning. I have already proved that. That does not mean he will not be fun.

  So I sharpen my blades and make ready. The first girl was a delight, but I am still hungry after my long sleep, and so I must still find satisfaction.

  Chapter 8

  Aedan couldn’t believe it, but he actually felt nervous as he got out of his car, locked it, and headed down the sidewalk toward the hotel on the boardwalk where Dallas had agreed to meet him for brunch.

  What if she didn’t show up?

  What if she came and somehow, in the light of day, minus the ambience of the bar, there was nothing between them? But maybe that would be a good thing. He had no business meeting an HF for brunch. It wasn’t right. Especially one with a kid. He’d be gone in a couple of months. Dallas needed someone who could take care of her, someone who could be here for her. That’s what partners were for, to be there for each other. And he’d obviously failed the test. Twice, big time.

  He hadn’t been there when Elly had gone into labor; he’d been off fighting. She was dead before he returned home. He hadn’t been there for Madeleine, either. Not when Jay had cornered her, tortured her, mur—

  “Hey there.”

  Aedan looked up to see Dallas rising from a bench on the boardwalk. She was wearing a jean skirt and a lavender top with a long string of wooden beads around her neck. Her hair fell loose down her back, reflecting the morning sunlight. She looked cute. Hot.

  “I didn’t know if we were supposed to meet you inside or outside.” She gestured toward the Victorian hotel on the corner. “But Kenzie wanted to see the ocean, so we decided to wait out here. Kenzie!” she called toward the steps that led down to the beach. “Come on, let’s go have breakfast.”

  “I’m glad you came. I was afraid”—he chuckled—“that you might stand me up.” He put his hand on her waist and gave her a quick kiss. She reminded him so much of Madeleine, and yet she smelled nothing like her, felt nothing like her. Madeleine had had an earthy smell about her; Dallas smelled of jasmine and another flower he couldn’t quite identify. Her lips were soft when he touched them with his. Smooth. She definitely kissed him back. Sort of.

  “I thought about it. Not coming.” It was her turn to chuckle. “I’m really not good at this dating thing, Aedan. I’m not sure I can do it for about a hundred reasons.” She turned toward the stairs again.

  The ocean was beautiful this morning, the tide washing in, hitting the beach, and retreating in a sheet of foam. A couple of storms over the last few years had taken a toll on the width of the beach between the water and the boardwalk and all its stores. But over the winter sand had been pumped in from out in the ocean, and the beach restored.

  “Kenzie!” Dallas called.

  A moment later, a blond girl bounced up the steps, carrying a pair of blue Crocs. The child was wearing blue jean capris and a T-shirt with a fire truck on it.

  “Come meet my friend, Aedan, Kenzie. Remember, I told you we were going to have brunch together?” She grabbed the girl’s hand and led her to the bench, pushing her down gently. “Let’s get this sand off your feet.”

  “Hey, Kenzie, it’s nice to meet you.”

  The little girl looked off into space over her mother’s shoulder as Dallas squatted in front of her daughter and brushed the sand off her feet. Kenzie was pretty, the spitting image of her mother: the same brown eyes, same white blond hair. At ten, it was obvious that the child would grow to be as lovely as her mother.

  “I’m hungry.” Aedan slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. He’d actually taken the time to iron a polo shirt this morning. “Are you hungry, Kenzie?” he asked casually, not wanting to put any pressure on the little girl. He was so big that sometimes little kids were intimidated by him.

  Still, the girl didn’t respond. In fact, she didn’t really acknowledge her mother, either. She just sat there on the bench, hands at her sides, sort of vacant-eyed.

  �
��She takes a while to warm up to people. Don’t you, Kenzie?” Dallas explained. She stood, brushing sand off her skirt. “Put on your shoes and let’s go.”

  Aedan hesitated, not exactly sure what was going on. He could sense Kenzie was different than the average ten-year-old. And Dallas, he recalled, had said something about her daughter being special. Dallas had given no further explanation then, and she didn’t offer one now. So Aedan decided he’d just roll with it.

  “I made a reservation. I didn’t know how busy they’d be.” He and Dallas walked side by side. Kenzie clomped behind them in her rubber Crocs. At the hotel door, he opened it and stepped back. Kenzie followed her mother in, but then fell in behind Dallas and Aedan.

  When Aedan gave the hostess his name, Dallas spoke up. “Could we possibly have that corner table, near the windows? My daughter’s a little uncomfortable in crowds.”

  The hostess led them to the table Dallas had requested, and Dallas pulled out the chair in the corner. “Slide in. I’ve got your books in my bag.” She tapped the big, batik-patterned cloth purse on her shoulder.

  Kenzie did as her mother asked. Once settled in the chair, she placed her hands in her lap and stared out the window at the people walking by on the boardwalk. Dallas slid into the chair beside her.

  Aedan took the chair across from Dallas. Once the waitress had taken their orders for juice and drinks, she suggested they could help themselves at the buffet.

  “You coming with me or waiting here?” Dallas asked her daughter.

  Kenzie made no move to get up, nor did she speak.

  “You get something. I’ll stay here with Kenzie,” Aedan said.

  Dallas hesitated, glancing at her daughter, then at the buffet set up on the other side of the dining room. “I’ll be right back, girlfriend.”

  Aedan glanced around. He’d never been to the buffet at the hotel; he’d just read a review in a newspaper that said it was one of the best breakfasts in town. The décor was a little gaudy for him—the patterned wallpaper and ornately carved furniture—but they knew their nineteenth century Victorian interior design.

  Aedan watched Kenzie for a moment. The girl continued to stare out the window. Dallas had set several workbooks and a mechanical pencil down in front of her daughter. He was surprised when he leaned over to see that the workbook was a high school–level algebra book.

  “Algebra, huh?” Aedan asked, casually. “Pretty tricky stuff for a girl your age.”

  The little girl never moved, but he heard a tiny voice in his head say, Please don’t look at me. It makes it too hard.

  Aedan’s brow furrowed. His telepathy with his fellow vampires was good, especially when this close, but never, in all the years he had been alive, had he been able to hear human thoughts. But the girl was clearly speaking to him. It couldn’t be anyone else. Aedan looked away.

  Kenzie seemed startled for a moment, then hesitant. Thank you, came the tiny voice. It’s scary, sometimes, you know. When people look.

  I know, he thought, not sure if she would hear him.

  The tiniest smile touched her lips. I didn’t want to come for breakfast. I don’t like people. They scare me. I like Ashley and Amanda. They just talk to each other and not me. I write if I have to tell them something.

  The waitress came back with mimosas for Aedan and Dallas and a Sprite for Kenzie. Kenzie seemed to withdraw as the waitress got closer to her.

  Aedan glanced in Dallas’s direction. She had two plates in her hands and was busy adding to both of them. It was all he could do not to look at Kenzie.

  He thanked the waitress and waited until she was gone. Can your mom hear you? Aedan asked.

  Kenzie giggled, her gaze still fixed on something beyond the window. She thinks she can. She is always trying to guess what I want. But she can’t hear me unless I talk out loud. I don’t like to talk out loud. She turned to look at Aedan. She didn’t actually make eye contact, but she was looking at him. Why can you hear me when no one else can?

  I have no idea, he answered honestly, averting his gaze again. Can a lot of people hear you?

  No. She took a quick look at him, then fixed her gaze through the window again. Are you a good man or a bad man?

  Aedan fiddled with his napkin, made a little uncomfortable by her question. The child didn’t waste much time, did she? A good man, I hope. I try to be.

  Why do you bite people, then?

  He looked at her; he couldn’t help it. How do you know that?

  Dallas approached their table, and Aedan felt a sudden disconnect with the little girl. Kenzie didn’t say anything else to him.

  “Look what I found, Kenzie,” she said, carrying two plates. “Mashed potatoes and peaches for you.” On her own plate, she had an omelet and home fries. Kenzie’s plate, sure enough, held only peaches and mashed potatoes. “Move your books, hon.” She glanced at Aedan as she took her seat. “Thanks for sitting with her. Go ahead, get something.”

  When Aedan returned with his plate, Kenzie was shoveling mashed potatoes into her mouth. Dallas had waited for him.

  “You didn’t have to wait,” he said, sliding into his chair. He’d gotten a Belgian waffle and scrapple. He spread his white linen napkin on his lap and then lifted his glass.

  Dallas raised hers.

  “What shall we toast to?” he asked.

  “To a good breakfast. Is there anything better?” She laughed.

  He laughed and touched his glass to hers, making eye contact with her. She liked him. She didn’t want to, but she did.

  This was going to be complicated.

  “To a good breakfast,” he agreed.

  That’s silly, Kenzie’s little voice said in his head. Grown-ups are silly.

  Aedan smiled. “So tell me about Brown. That where you’re going, Kenzie? That why you’re brushing up on your algebra?”

  Dallas laughed, and they started talking about Brown University. Kenzie ate her potatoes and peaches, and Aedan heard nothing more from her. His conversation with Dallas turned to Providence, Rhode Island, which led to a discussion of Boston and how the Sox were going to do this year. Aedan fully enjoyed his meal with her; she was easy to talk to, smart, but not snotty like some Ivy Leaguers could be. He’d been one himself once, at Harvard. In the nineteenth century. It hadn’t been his thing, and he’d never tried it again.

  Dallas seemed to be enjoying herself, too. They both had a second mimosa. Kenzie had a second helping of mashed potatoes, and they talked for a while after the last of the plates were cleared away. Kenzie never spoke to her mother or to Aedan. Once she finished eating, she opened a workbook and began to work on a page, obviously concentrating.

  It wasn’t until Aedan had called for the check that he heard Kenzie utter a word. The waitress had just left the check, and Aedan was fishing in his wallet for his credit card. Suddenly, Kenzie sat up very straight. Her pencil fell out of her hand.

  “Kenzie? You okay?”

  Dallas picked up her daughter’s pencil, which was about to roll off the end of the table.

  “Bad man,” Kenzie said in a strange, guttural voice. It didn’t sound at all like the voice he heard in his head.

  “No,” Dallas said. “Aedan’s not a bad man. He’s nice. He’s been nice to us.”

  Kenzie turned her head, looking right at Aedan. You have to get him, she said inside his head.

  “I’m really sorry about that, back at the restaurant, Aedan,” Dallas apologized again. “I don’t know what got into her. I can’t believe she even spoke in front of you. I don’t know what she was talking about. She acts like she likes you. I don’t know why she would say that—say you were a bad man.”

  They walked side by side down the boardwalk. Aedan had offered to walk them home to their apartment over the bar, which was off the south end of Rehoboth Avenue on Wilmington Avenue, so he had left his car at the hotel. It was a nice day; he didn’t mind walking, and he certainly enjoyed the company. He’d hoped Kenzie might say something more about the ba
d guy she had referred to back at the restaurant, but she wouldn’t talk to him. He tried telepathy, but she either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him.

  “She never says things like that. She never says anything to anyone but me and a friend or two she’s made at school.” Dallas glanced behind her at her daughter who was walking a few steps behind them, clutching one of her math workbooks.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m not offended.” He glanced over his shoulder at the little girl . . . who smiled at him. He smiled and looked forward again.

  “She’s autistic,” Dallas went on, missing the interaction between him and Kenzie. “That’s one of the reasons we came to Delaware. There’s a great school here for autistic children.”

  “She seems very smart.”

  “She is. Super-smart. She just has a hard time communicating with people, especially verbally. That’s what makes it so hard to be autistic. People assume you’re stupid. She walked late; she talked late; even now, she barely talks. But she understands every word we say.” She hesitated. “Is that a problem for you? Her disability?”

  “Not at all.” I kind of like the fact that you’re an odd duck, Kenzie. Quack. Quack, he telepathed.

  He heard a giggle in his head.

  “She seems like she has a lot of potential,” he went on, aloud. “I don’t know much about autism, except that it’s a very wide spectrum diagnosis.”

  “Exactly, and there’s so much we don’t know about it. Kenzie and children like her have so much potential, but we just have to—I’m sorry.” Dallas laughed and ran her hand down his arm. “I get on my soapbox, and I can’t shut up.”

  “I kind of like you on a soapbox,” he teased, catching her hand.

  Mommy and Aedan sittin’ in a tree, Kenzie sang in his head. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

  Mind your own beeswax, you little booger, Aedan telepathed.

  Kenzie broke into audible laughter, and Dallas whipped around, grinning. “I’ve never heard her laugh out loud in public.” She looked to Aedan. “See, I told you she likes you. She never likes anyone.”