The Devil and the Dancer

by Elizabeth Hunter

  He heard movement from the living room. Walking around the corner, he saw Vivian in a purple dressing gown studying a shirtless young man. Her head was slightly cocked and she stared as the human squirmed. Renard sat in a corner, looking at his phone.

  The young man looked up when he saw Gavin in the doorway, and his eyes went wide.

  “Out.” Gavin pointed at the door.

  Without a word, the man stood, pulled on his shirt, and walked past Gavin with a mumbled apology.

  Vivian stood and turned with her hands on her hips. “That was my dinner.”

  “And this is my apartment.” He walked to the bar and took out a bottle of blood-wine. “You can have wine or you can go to the club, but don’t feed in my home. Where did he come from?”

  “Renard ordered out.”

  Gavin glanced at Renard, who only shrugged.

  “There’s an app,” he said.

  There was an app?

  “Get dressed for a meeting,” Gavin said. “Business meeting. I’ve secured an appointment with Cormac in an hour. We need to leave in fifteen minutes, so hurry.”

  Vivian sauntered past him, grabbed the blood-wine, and went to her quarters without a word. Gavin knew she’d be out in sixteen minutes and not a second less. She hated being ordered around.

  “Renard,” Gavin said.

  “Yes?”

  “Start packing her things. You’re not invited to this meeting, and you’ll both be leaving tomorrow night.”

  Renard looked skeptical, but he also rose and left the room.

  Gavin tried not to grind his teeth. He glanced at his phone. Still nothing. He slid it back in his pocket and tried to focus.

  He would get Vivian out of his hair.

  Life would return to normal.

  But with more Chloe.

  He was determined that she needed to move in. Ben and Tenzin’s loft was secure, but his apartment was just as secure, more luxurious, and he had an entire practice area for her use. She could use the car during the day if she needed it. She would sleep in one place every night instead of moving back and forth, and Gavin wouldn’t have to wake up every night wondering where she was.

  All he had to do was convince Cormac to sell Vivian some damn bourbon casks and hustle her back to France to play with her vineyards and rotating harem of pretty young men.

  Gavin decided she’d pay for the favor in Loire Valley red. He’d heard rave reviews of her last release, and he wanted some for his cellar. Vivian annoyed the hell out of him, but he had to admit she was an extraordinary winemaker.

  She exited her room in an impeccable grey suit and heels exactly sixteen minutes after she entered. Gavin chose to remain silent and escorted her to the car.

  “Renard isn’t—?”

  “Renard isn’t coming.” Gavin opened the car door. “He’s packing your things because you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Her smile was smug as she slid into the black sedan. “So you’ve convinced him?”

  “No, you’re going to convince him.” Gavin closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side, and gave Abraham instructions before he got in the car. “I secured you a meeting, Vivi. If you can’t convince him, there’s no reason to stay. So you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  She pouted, but she didn’t say anything more. They arrived at Cormac’s business office in twenty minutes and sat in a comfortable reception area while his personal secretary announced their arrival.

  Cormac arrived only moments later. The vampire didn’t bother with some of the mind games others of their kind enjoyed. He was blunt, and Gavin appreciated that about him.

  Vivian got straight to the point after obligatory introductions. “I want to buy twenty of your bourbon casks.”

  “Why?”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “Yeah.” Cormac leaned back in his chair. “Why?”

  His office was as eccentric as he was. The desk was an antique, but the chair behind it was a battered wooden thing with cracked vinyl on the headrest. The shelves behind him were filled with books—actual books and not show books—as varied in subject as they were mismatched in appearance.

  Agricultural journals and an outdated edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica. Novels in six different languages that Gavin had spotted. Motorcycle-repair books and a truly impressive collection of manga, along with a well-worn set of the Harry Potter hardbacks, original covers.

  Gavin used to think that Cormac’s eccentricities were for show, to throw immortals off. He’d thought Cormac was playing a clever game of disrupting expectations.

  He’d come to realize that Cormac was just strange. He was a strange man with offbeat interests and little care what anyone thought of him other than his surviving brothers and his favorite child.

  Vivian clearly didn’t know what to think of the man. “My distiller is experimenting with brandies at the moment, and he has requested—”

  “Yeah, I get that, but why do you want my bourbon casks?”

  Vivian did not take well to being interrupted. Her tone was acid. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your confusion, Mr. O’Brien. Do you have casks to sell or do you not? It’s not really any of your business what I do with them.”

  “No, it’s not.” Cormac rocked forward. “I’m being nosy because I can be. Because I know that your distiller originally asked for whiskey casks, not bourbon in particular. In fact, you’ve been trying to buy whiskey casks for about six months now with no luck.” Cormac glanced at Gavin. “So I wondered: Why won’t anyone in Ireland or Scotland sell casks to Vivian Lebeau? She’s not known for being cheap. She pays her bills on time. So what could it be?”

  Gavin knew she had an ulterior motive. He just knew it. He forced himself not to sigh. He turned to Vivian and waited to see how she would respond.

  She remained silent for a long time. “Do you have casks to sell or not?”

  Cormac took his wire-rimmed glasses off and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt. “Tell Gavin why you’re coming to me, and we can negotiate.”

  Vivian pursed her lips, but she turned to Gavin. “Because I stole the Ramsays’ winemaker and they told all the whiskey makers in Britain not to return my calls.”

  This was the first Gavin had heard of it, but he wasn’t surprised. He owned a distillery in Scotland, but Vivian didn’t know that, and the day-to-day operations were placed in the hands of a trusted manager who wouldn’t bother calling him about a sales matter.

  Gavin rubbed his temple. “You stole their winemaker, Vivian? How? And why?”

  Terrance Ramsay and Gemma Melcombe were the vampire lords of London and also the immortal world’s most successful blood-winemakers. But as far as Gavin knew, Vivi hadn’t gotten into blood-wine. At all. She liked her wine and her blood. She did not like to mix them and only drank blood-wine if preserved blood was the only other option.

  Please tell me it was money. Please tell me you offered him an insane amount of money to change wineries because of a new business opportunity you just couldn’t pass—

  “The man is a red-blooded one.” Vivian’s smile turned seductive. “And far more virile than I expected for his age. We met at an event and he was enchanted by me. What could I do?”

  Gavin looked at Cormac and his eyes said it all.

  Siblings.

  “So you seduced the Ramsays’ winemaker and convinced him to come work for you,” Gavin said. “And… are you two making blood-wine now?”

  Industrial espionage was hardly unknown in their world. In fact, it was considered a perfectly legitimate way to beat competitors. Gavin knew it was something else.

  “No.” She curled her lip. “Disgusting. Rene is taking a holiday. Deciding what he would like to pursue in the future. He’s a very gifted painter, you know.”

  So you fucked with the Ramsays just to fuck with them and get laid.

  Classic Vivian.

  Gavin asked, “Cormac, how much for the casks?”

  Cormac quoted a number that was
at least three times the normal asking price for used bourbon casks.

  Vivian began cursing him in French. Cormac looked at her, completely unperturbed.

  “That’s the price,” he said. “I don’t have to sell you anything. They’re already spoken for, so I’m doing you a favor.”

  Vivian stood and walked out of the office, still muttering curses.

  Cormac turned to Gavin. “Was that a yes?”

  “Yes.” Gavin stood and held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He shook Gavin’s hand and held. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”

  “You didn’t. She would have told me eventually when she wanted my help to fix it.”

  Cormac let his hand drop. “And will you?”

  Normally Gavin would. Gavin always did manage to fix Vivian’s messes when she made them. But this time…

  “You know,” Cormac said, “sometimes with family, a little tough love is in order.”

  “Tough love?”

  “Ramsay won’t hurt her. He’s got other winemakers in his operation now, so Rene wasn’t a unicorn. He’s annoyed with her and making a point. Fuck with me and I’ll fuck with you.” Cormac shrugged. “Just my take.”

  “Thank you for the meeting,” Gavin said. “I’ll make sure Renard has your office manager’s number before they leave.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Gavin walked out of the office and said polite goodbyes before he joined Vivian in the car.

  Vivian angled herself toward him. “Gavin—”

  “Don’t.” He leaned forward. “Abe, take me to the Bat and Barrel. After you’ve dropped me off, take Vivian back to the apartment.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  Gavin sat back in the seat and straightened his cuffs. “I’ll get Renard the proper information to contact O’Brien’s office for the casks.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me about Rene?”

  “No.” He came to a snap decision that was a long time coming. “I’m not helping you smooth this over with Ramsay, Vivi.”

  Her eyes watered dramatically. “You don’t care.”

  “Send the human back to London with a kiss and a few cases of red. In a couple of years, Ramsay will forget this ever happened.”

  “But you’re friendly with him. Can’t you just—?”

  “No.” Once made, the decision was surprisingly easy to stick with, even with her dramatics. “Fix it yourself, Vivian. You don’t need my help for this.”

  “You don’t care about me.” Her voice turned bitter. “You don’t care about your own sister. Your only family.”

  “I do care, Vivian, but let’s be honest, you only visit when you want something, you enjoy disrupting people’s lives to amuse yourself, and you lie constantly.”

  “You lie too.”

  Gavin raised his eyebrows. “Do I?”

  “You’re enamored with that little human, and you didn’t even tell me. You think I haven’t heard the rumors at your bar? You think I can’t tell when something has changed?”

  Frost settled in his veins, and Gavin turned to his sister, all familial affection forgotten. “Forget it, Vivian. Forget her.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up. “Or what? Is a human more important than me? Are you going to—?”

  In the space of a blink, Gavin put a hand on her throat and squeezed, just enough to make her eyes go wide. “Forget. Chloe.”

  Vivian’s mouth dropped open.

  “You don’t know her. You don’t use her. You don’t tell anyone she’s mine.” Gavin dropped his hand.

  Vivian rubbed her throat. “People are going to know eventually if you’re acting so foolishly.”

  “Foolishly?” Gavin smiled. “That woman is under Giovanni Vecchio’s personal aegis. She’s friends with his nephew and works for Tenzin. You think I’m the only one protecting her?” The realization settled in his bones and released the knot of tension that had taken residence around his heart. “Forget her connection to me, Vivian. If you try to fuck with Chloe Reardon, you will bring down the wrath of God and Tenzin. Leave her alone. Leave us alone. Trust me when I tell you it’s not worth the trouble.”

  His sister crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. She didn’t speak. She didn’t antagonize him. She was completely and utterly silent.

  It was glorious.

  He was sitting at his normal booth at the Bat and Barrel, still glancing at his phone. She had rehearsal tonight, then she was working her shift at the Dancing Bear. He could go there and see her. Since Vivian looked to be on the way out, it was tempting.

  Why hadn’t she texted him?

  He felt Beatrice approaching before he saw her. Beatrice De Novo had a strong presence she took no pains to hide. He’d met her when she was still a student in Giovanni’s employ, but the fact that she’d become a powerful immortal didn’t surprise him. She’d had a backbone of steel even when she was human.

  “Hey there.” The slight Texas drawl still popped out occasionally. “Don’t flinch.”

  “I don’t make a habit of it.” He waved Lettie over. “Scotch?”

  “I hear that bottle Giovanni gave me came from your own distillery.”

  “Did you like it?” He’d given it to Giovanni so Beatrice wouldn’t throw it away.

  “It’s tasty.”

  “Good. Lettie, two glasses from my bottle, please.”

  Lettie smiled. “You got it.”

  She walked away, and Gavin shuffled the paperwork he’d been pretending to read back into the file he needed to review. “What brings you to the Bat and Barrel?” he asked. “It’s late.”

  “I have a toddler,” she said. “Needed to put her to bed.”

  Gavin shook his head. “That is a very odd mental image.”

  “Try Giovanni changing a diaper.” Beatrice cracked a smile. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “You and me both.” Gavin waited for Lettie to set the glasses down and leave them. “Why are you here?”

  Beatrice picked up her glass, sipped it, put it back on the table. “That’s even better than what I remember. I hate you a little.”

  “Beatrice, why—?”

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  Gavin wanted to say “none of your business,” except it wouldn’t be true. Chloe was their business because she was their family. And since Chloe didn’t have parents in her life, he was grateful she had them.

  He drummed his fingers on his glass. “Yes.”

  “Does she know?”

  “I feel like I’ve been wearing my feelings like neon lights on my fucking sleeve, but that’s me.” He looked away. “I don’t know if she knows.”

  “Since you’re not exactly the touchy-feely emotional type, I’m going to guess she might not. And I’m going to give you some advice you need to take. You might want to ignore me out of spite. God knows I’ve needled you over the years, but this isn’t about us. It’s about her. I’ve been where she is, and I’m not going to bullshit you.”

  Gavin swallowed a sharp retort and forced himself to listen. “What is your advice?”

  “Right now, imagination is her worst enemy. She’d trying to imagine what you want from her. What your feelings are. What a relationship with a vampire is going to look like. She’s had relationships with humans, good and bad, but she’s never had one with an immortal.”

  Gavin nodded. “I’m listening.”

  Beatrice continued. “You need to make it clear what you want from her. I’m not making any judgments or assumptions. Your relationship is between the two of you. But don’t let her imagination run the show. Just tell her.”

  “That… is excellent advice.” Between his earlier realization about Chloe’s safety and Beatrice’s words of experience, he felt a new sense of resolve. “Thank you, Beatrice.”

  “You’re welcome.” She sipped her drink. “I still have reservations. But I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

  “Noted.”
He set down his glass. “For the record, he was a fucking bampot for leaving you for five years. I told him so at the time, but he never listens.”

  “A fucking bampot?” Beatrice smiled. “I’m going to remember that one, because… yeah. He totally was.”

  Chloe was cleaning up the bar when he walked in. Her heart jumped in her chest.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Gavin walked over, ignoring Rafael who was wiping down tables and putting chairs up.

  He stopped in front of Chloe, and his expression was completely unreadable. “Hello. I need to see you in the office when you’re done.”

  Shit.

  Rafael was staring at both of them with wide, concerned eyes. Gavin walked down the hall and disappeared while Chloe finished wiping down the bar.

  Shit.

  Chloe felt small inside. She’d been excited when he first walked in, despite the awful mental gymnastics she’d been going through the past two days. Two days without seeing Gavin had felt like an eternity, which had made her pause.

  Just how fast was she jumping into this? Sleep with a vampire one night and get addicted the next? What was she doing? Beatrice had called her smart, but she didn’t feel smart. She felt lovesick.

  And that scared her to death.

  Chloe decided she needed to get perspective. She couldn’t just jump into this headfirst. Not after the disaster that was Tom. She’d spent the day thinking about Gavin, all the while trying to distract herself from missing him. She hadn’t called him. She hadn’t texted. She’d thrown herself into work and spent extra time at practice. She’d had dinner with Arthur and Drew before she went to rehearsal.

  And no matter what she did, her thoughts kept circling back to Gavin.

  Rafael walked over to the bar. “You guys okay? Boss looked… I don’t know how he looked.”

  She smiled big. “He’s fine. He probably just…” She forced herself to stop. Making excuses for Tom’s moods had been one of the first slopes she’d slid down. “Actually, I have no idea what’s up. Your guess is as good as mine, Raf.”

  “You want me to stay?”