by Angel Lawson
“This is quite the state-of-the-art set up you’ve got going on here.”
“Elijah built it, he’s a bit of a technological wizard.”
“What do these do?” She pointed to the monitors.
I switched on the screens and a variety of scenes appeared. The outside of the house, the kitchen, library, garage, stairwell, and of course, Amelia’s desk.
“You can watch me from up here?” Her eyes remained glued to the monitors.
“I keep track of everything from up here, for, uh, safety.”
She spun around and looked me in the eye. “So you saw everything I did?”
“Well, I could. If I wanted to, but you know I’m very busy so it’s not like I’m sitting around, uh, watching you all day.” I reached up to run a hand through my hair but stopped myself. Jesus.
“Does one of these go to my bedroom?” she asks.
“No.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“Fine, yes, but I assure you it is not activated.” I pushed past her to prove that I had no footage of her in her private areas but she laid a hand on my wrist.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I should have respected your privacy from the beginning.”
“You didn’t know me then, Grant. It’s understandable that you needed to be careful.”
I swallowed. “When you left—quit—I watched the videos because I missed you.”
She made a face, wrinkling her nose. “See, that’s a little creepy. That’s the kind of stuff you probably shouldn’t share.”
God, she thought I was a freak. A perverted, socially repressed freak. I lunged past her and switched off the monitors. “I’m sorry. This is…it’s such a new thing for me.”
She reached forward, taking my hand in hers. They were always so soft, so warm. “I’m not mad or I suppose even all that surprised. From now on if you want to see me just ask, okay?”
“I like that idea much better.”
“Show me the rest?”
I took her through my bedroom and up the stairs to the attic where I kept the majority of my work. Amelia glanced around with wide eyes at the rows of file cabinets and the huge cork board that hung on the wall. An intricate system of notecards, photographs, pins and string tracked each one of Caleb’s known movements. In the corner sat my art easel and I breathed in relief that she didn’t ask about it. Not yet. We’ve both laid ourselves bare over the last couple of days and I’m not sure I have the energy for any further revelations.
“So this is where you get the dirty work done?” she asked, pointing to the wall. Caleb’s trail of terror had grown to an embarrassing size. It was time to shut him down.
“I’m trying.”
She walked over to a photo of Laurel I’d taken off the internet. It was marked with a red pin and the police report. Caleb’s last kill. The most personal one yet. Amelia lifted the picture and in a nearly unrecognizable voice said, “I want you to tear this bastard apart, Grant. Show him no mercy. Promise me that.”
She glanced in my direction and I felt every ounce of her anger and fear. I nodded and replied, “I promise.”
Chapter 12
Amelia
My job description changed from that moment forward. I became part of Grant’s team. I no longer spent my days sorting office supplies or running errands. The Asheville office was now strictly focused on working Caleb’s case. I finally felt like I was accomplishing something even if progress was slow.
I had spent the morning going over the most recent B&E reports Elijah secured from the police. The guys were convinced that Caleb must have a pattern for the homes he invaded, and we were all desperately trying to connect the dots. With Laurel’s death it was more important than ever that we gain the upper hand.
After scouring over the reports for hours I tossed the stack toward Elijah. “I think that’s everything.”
“I’ll enter it into my program later.” He flashed me a smile. “Thanks.”
“What about Olivia?” I asked. It took me a while to wrap my mind around the fact she had telekinesis. “Can’t she see what they’re doing?”
“Just like how Caleb has hacked into Grant’s head, they seem to be jamming up Olivia’s frequency. The information they’re feeding her is false. They’ve tricked us more than once,” Elijah replied.
“How do they have so much power?”
He shook his head. “The mind tricks with Grant are something I’ve never seen before. The stuff with Olivia? I have some theories I’m working on, the least of which is that she’s just too close to this and it’s too important. I’m worried she’s panicking and blocking her own path. One thing is for sure, Caleb or someone working with him, is pretty smart. It’s going to make bringing him down even more enjoyable.”
That was one of the interesting things I’d noticed about the Palmer family. As frustrated as they were, there was never any implication they wouldn’t get the upper hand on Caleb. Extreme confidence must be another enhancement of vampirism. I certainly wouldn’t mind a dose of that attribute.
The afternoon was set aside for additional research, trying to find that one clue that had been overlooked. My task was to highlight a stack of records dating back fifty years from the police department. Without super vampire speed or a photographic memory, the tedious job took me all day. Luckily it was the sort of job I relished. When I finally finished, I ran up the stairs to the top floor of the building as quickly as I could. My flip-flops slapped against the step. I reached the landing and paused at the entrance of the room, taking a minute to catch my breath and smooth down my skirt.
Grant stood lean and tall over rows of papers he’d lined up on the wooden floor, deep in concentration. He knew I was there. He always knew. I'd come to find how truly amazing his senses really were, even when I wasn’t wearing shoes that announced my arrival two floors down. Now that we were together all the time and the barriers of his reality removed, I found out that he tracked sounds two blocks away. Or the ruffle of my sheets as I slept. He easily could see the small print on the papers below him from six feet away and most specifically, he could hear my thundering heartbeat at almost any distance.
Grant told me these things at random, like he needed to get them off his chest, and I lapped up every drop and detail like a woman dying of thirst. Little by little, he had become my sustenance, the water and air I breathed.
From the doorway, I observed him. His thick, dark hair, the sharp lines of his face. His skin was flawless, his mouth perfect, and I was dying to run my hands over every inch of him. Even though our touches had become more frequent, I hadn't yet summoned the courage to actually kiss him. I could wait for him to make the first move but I suspected I’d be dead and gone by that point. Time moved differently for those who are immortal, I’d learned. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have the same luxury. Plus, I wanted him.
Badly.
These were my thoughts as I quietly skirted around the papers and perched myself on the desktop across the room from where he worked. The large desk was underused as Grant preferred to spread out and see everything at once in an attempt to crack the pattern he was convinced was there.
I'd made this my place in the room. It was out of the way, yet gave me a direct view of the perfectly imperfect man in front of me. The professional in me said I was observing, learning from one of the more powerful men in corporate America. The woman in me knew I was simply ogling him while he was too busy to notice.
Or so he pretended. He watched me in return. Not only in the creepy way he had before (yes, there was a little of both going on) but he watched me with growing interest—increased want. He made up excuses to touch me, to be with me. He was no longer hiding behind his monitors, but he still held back.
I was tired of holding back.
From my perch on the desk I swung my feet, while Grant studied the papers on the floor with the intensity of man preforming surgery. His pale gray shirt clung perfectly to his shoulders. My eyes trave
led down his chest, to his dark fitted jeans. I smiled at the black sneakers on his feet, laces adjusted at the exact angle he deemed ‘correct’.
I dropped my shoes to the ground, one by one, in an effort to get his attention.
Nothing.
I rolled my eyes and arranged my hair over my head in a ponytail, knowing the movement would send waves of delicious-smelling Amelia wafting in his direction. I pulled and fluffed and twisted all while running my fingers though my long strands, hoping to lure him out.
Again…nada.
Well, to be fair, he did react at little. His nostrils flared and his hand moved to the back of his neck. Determined, I decided to take a more direct approach. I leaned back on the desk and called his name. “Grant?”
He glanced up, eyes soft but distracted. "Yes?"
“Hi.”
He blinked. “Hello.”
“I thought maybe you could take a break.”
“A break?” He said it as though it was a foreign concept.
“Yes.” I patted the desk. “With me.”
His eyes flicked over me, taking in everything from my hair down to my toes and my heart skipped a beat under the scrutiny. He squeezed the stack of Post-It-Notes in his hand and looked down at the papers on the floor. Huh, this may prove to be more difficult than expected.
“Just for a minute,” I suggested. “I know you’re busy, but you’re also working very hard and it can be good for the mind to rest on occasion.” Just when I was convinced he was going to tell me to get lost, the yellow notes dropped to the floor with a flutter and he appeared directly in front of me. “Oh, that was fast. I’ll have to get used to that.”
“I don’t usually stop working,” he confessed. “I just tend to go from one thing or the other, with the occasional break to hunt.”
“Well, humans require breaks. Our minds need to stop, and obviously, we have to sleep. It’s boring to do it alone.”
His lips curved into a small grin. “Such inferior species.”
I tilted my head to the side. “You think I’m inferior?”
“You?” He stepped closer. “No, you’re the exception to every rule.”
I focused on his mouth—on this sharp jaw. Licking my lip, I used a finger to beckon him closer. He watched me closely, but came forward as I suggested. “Prove it.”
“What?”
“That I’m the exception.”
Sitting on the desk gave me a boost, making me closer to his height. Carefully he slipped his hand on my neck, fingers woven into my hair. I sighed at his touch, arching my back and struggled to remain lucid as his tongue darted out in response.
He shifted forward infinitesimally as I let my fingers spread over his stomach and settle on his sides. He was close but it was still too far, the tension between us wider than the actual physical distance.
I felt his fingers press into my knees, resistant. I searched his face and the conflict was clear. The want in his eyes was unmistakable, but the fear threatened to overpower his desire.
In a moment of pure self-consciousness, I began second guessing my attempt and felt the burning heat creep up my neck and face. I loosened my trembling grasp from his hair and began to pull away slowly. “I’m sorry.”
Before I could fully extract myself Grant shuddered and exhaled. "I want you so much."
My eyes flew to his and I nodded silently, willing him to understand. No, he needed my words—my permission. “I want you, too.”
His hands moved from my knees to my waist and he leaned in so slowly, head tilted, close enough to feel the tension rolling off his body. I licked my lips again and shifted my hips under the weight of his hands.
"Amelia," he whispered and I froze under his spell, willing to submit to his every demand. I closed my eyes and felt Grant's labored breath. I wasn't sure what his emotions were or where his desire was leading, but I knew I wouldn't stop. He wanted to consume me and I desperately wanted to be consumed.
"Please," I murmured and his lips were on mine. Tentative and gentle. Wonderful.
I moved my lips in response, following his pace. It was slow and restrained, burning with an underlying desire. I wanted more, but right now I would take what he gave me. My fingers eagerly tugged the thick strands of his hair, pulling him towards me. He tenderly pushed my legs apart and pressed my body into the desk.
Abruptly he stopped and pulled away, his hands resting on my hips. He dropped his head to my shoulder and let out a deep sigh. His left hand scaled my arm, up to my throat, the pads of this fingers searching for my pulse.
I stroked his hair, combing it downward with my fingers and asked, "Are you okay?" into the soft snarl of hair on top of his head.
He nodded into my shirt and tilted his head, running his nose along the skin of my throat, whispering kisses along the way. His lips reached my ear and he said, "All these years I thought I was working toward redemption, preparing myself for enemies against humanity and disciplining myself for the challenges that came with my choices." He lifted his head and focused his darkened violet eyes on my own. "I was wrong, Amelia. Those days of restraint and self-depravation were in preparation for you and your entrance into my life."
Wide eyed and with a hammering heart, I was captivated by the man in front of me. There was an energy coming from him now that was not present earlier. "That was the hardest thing I've ever done," he whispered, before leaning in to kiss me deeper. His confidence was palpable.
“Was it worth it?” I asked, feeling a little dizzy.
"Oh yeah,” he said, peppering my face with tiny kisses. “Every step, every sacrifice, every moment I strived to be better, to be stronger, was definitely worth it. You are my exception."
He wrapped his long arms around my shoulders, enveloping me in his chest. I burrowed in, safe, protected for the moment. Squeezing my eyes shut, and my arms tight around Grant's waist, I couldn't help feel relief that another barrier was down and we’d made it past another hurdle. The journey ahead of us was destined to be difficult and painful, but now we knew we would be making it together.
Chapter 13
Grant
I entered the clearing at full speed. It was a beautiful night, clear with no clouds. I looked up at the full sky of stars and a partial moon. Miles away from civilization, my enhanced vision made the stars that dotted the sky shine like diamonds. Finding the rock, I settled on it waiting for her to arrive. I was faster, typically early, but these moments alone were no longer as painful as they’d once been. Now I had Amelia. Truly had her, and for the first time in many years, being alone wasn't so daunting. It was a wonderful feeling to know someone would be eagerly awaiting my return.
In the silence and solitude of the forest I relived the moment of our kiss. The way our bodies felt against one another. I’d forced her to make the first move—something I was determined to maintain. There would be no question if my ability to compel humans was used against her. Our relationship had to be pure. There was no other way.
I heard the approaching footsteps and stood. Out of the dense trees, a figure stepped into the clearing.
“Thank you for coming,” I said, making room for her on the rock.
Genevieve sat next to me, her spiked boots digging into the stone; she flashed me a seductive grin. “Miss me?”
“Hardly.”
“Ouch,” she said, but hurting her feelings was impossible. Genevieve’s feelings were as impenetrable as her skin. It would take a weapon sharper than my tongue to do her damage. “Well, if it’s not that then what is it?”
“I’m going to need some assistance and it involves The Council.”
She looked down at her fingernails. “I’m not sure why you aren’t having this conversation with Miles.”
“Because what I want is a little unconventional and I suspect you’re the only one who will be able to convince him to look the other way.”
Her black hair shone in the moonlight. I didn’t need to see her face to know she was already annoyed. “
I thought we’d moved past this phase in our relationship, you know, the part where you use me to get what you want and I just take the abuse.”
I scoffed. “As if you take any form of abuse you don’t secretly desire.”
That did bring out a wicked smile, gleaming even in the dark. “Those were the days weren’t they.”
Ah, the price of doing business with Genevieve was that she liked to reminisce. “Our arrangement had its purpose. The Council and Miles felt secure. I had an appropriate assistant for the Foundation and you…”
“Me?” She cut me off coyly, hand creeping up my thigh. I clamped my own down on hers and removed it.
“You got what you wanted at the time. So let’s not pretend I ever took advantage of you.”
“Fair enough.” She pouted and cut me a sideways glance. “What do you want then?”
“The Melungeon that Caleb murdered in town. She was a friend of Amelia’s.”
“And?”
“And she would like to attend her services in Lost Cove.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I plan on escorting Amelia to Lost Cove for the funeral. I’m anticipating this will incite some mixed feelings among the shifters.”
Genevieve shook her head. “Impossible. It breaks every part of the covenant with the Melungeon and a dozen violations with The Council. Grant, you’re supposed to be keeping your relationship with Amelia quiet, not parade it around for all of our enemies and allies to gawk over.”
“I will not deny her the opportunity to pay her respects.”
“Well, send her alone,” she suggested.
I gave her a hard look and crossed my arms over my chest. “You know that’s not going to happen.”
She stood, her heels making her almost equal in height. The shadows accentuated the curves of her body, the kind human females would sell their soul for. I steeled myself under the intensity of her gaze—Genevieve had a way of making even me feel like prey.
