Rowan’s directness had served them well throughout the years, but just now, Kenton would have embraced a bit of small talk.
“I believed there was one here, yes, but I found nothing.”
He looked, without flinching, into a pair of ice-blue eyes that mirrored his own. Indeed, he didn’t move a muscle as he cursed the necessity of his lie.
“Lawrence,” Rowan growled.
“Not this time,” he countered. “He’s been looking as vigorously as I have.”
His brother would never believe it.
“Is that what he told you? And you bought it?”
“I believe him.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t.”
Going on the offensive, he countered with, “Why all the secrecy? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
His brother gave no quarter. “I know you’re up to something. And I aim to find out what it is.”
Few secrets were kept between them. Living around someone for an eternity made it difficult to hide anything from them.
But this time was different. This time Alessandra’s life was on the line.
“If you believe that to be true, we both know further conversation is futile.”
Indeed, Rowan would rather be locked in a room with Lawrence wielding an aspen stake than admit to being wrong.
“So much for a happy reunion, brother.”
He ignored the comment. “You need to be more careful.”
Rowan looked back at Murphy’s Pub, waving a dismissive hand. “They won’t remember a thing.”
“And if a threat had materialized while you fed?”
His brother’s unconcerned shrug didn’t surprise him. This wasn’t the first time they’d had a discussion about his brother’s habits. Rowan simply didn’t care.
“This small town has a remarkable number of good-looking women,” he said. Then, with a leer, he added, “Those three won’t be the last.”
Kenton’s pulse raced. The idea of Rowan here, in the same place as Alessandra . . . he couldn’t do it. Not yet.
“They will be the last here, in Stone Haven,” he said. This time it was the earl, not the brother, speaking. “I will stay here to ensure no threat arises. I want you to go to Drake.”
His brother did not do well with demands, but just before Rowan could tell him to screw off, he added, “I’m worried about him.”
That, he would not ignore. And it also happened to be the truth. He couldn’t place a source for his concern, but Kenton had learned to trust his instincts.
Rowan’s nostrils flared. He wanted to argue.
But he wouldn’t.
“As you wish, my lord,” he mocked finally, delivering a sweeping bow. “But I will be back.”
Leaving as quickly as he’d come, Rowan disappeared into the darkness. He waited until he could no longer feel his brother’s presence, and then turned back toward the hill behind him. Aching with the need to see Alessandra, to feel her in his arms and know she was safe, Kenton walked home, toward the side entrance of his mansion.
That was when he felt it.
Turning, Kenton cursed when he saw Lawrence.
“Where is she?”
“Home asleep. Laria is staying there tonight. Did you find him?”
He needed a drink.
“No. I’d hoped he would turn up here.”
Both men looked up at the darkened mansion, the only light from the electric candles in the windows Mary insisted on lighting before she left each night. They were a staple, she argued, when it had been a bed and breakfast, and everyone in town loved to look up the hill to see those lights, a reminder of the town’s not-so-distant past. Having given her the week off, he continued the tradition.
In his experience, artifacts of the past rarely brought comfort in any true sense. No doubt his Alessandra would argue, but he believed the past was better left where it belonged, behind you.
“She’s safe?”
He knew the answer already but had to ask.
“Yes.”
There was something Lawrence wasn’t telling him. They stood in the small courtyard, the only sound a nearby rock waterfall. He waited, listening, determined not to ask for what he wanted to know.
“You told her everything,” he said, despite himself.
“No, not everything,” Lawrence said. “Her brother was the one who told her about you.”
“Her—”
“He came to town this morning.”
“Christ.”
“A lucky coincidence, if you ask me. Laria had planned to retrieve him anyway.”
“What is he doing here? And what do you mean, he told her about me? The boy knows nothing.”
“The boy is a man, it turns out. And a cunning one at that. We told Alessandra what she needed to know in order to remain safe, nothing more, and it was enough for her to guess the truth. Garrett simply confirmed it. He came into that restaurant knowing nothing about vampires, and yet somehow, from listening to our conversation, he knew why you came to town.”
“So she can detect danger, he, the truth?”
“It appears so.”
“And?”
Lawrence tossed up his hands as if asking a question. “And how do you think it went, Kenton, after she realized you came to Stone Haven intending to kill her?”
Kenton shoved his face in his hands, scrubbing at his brow in an ill-fated attempt to wipe away his regret.
“Ugh,” he said, for he could find no other words.
When he opened his eyes, Lawrence started laughing.
“What the fuck is so funny?” He had no patience for this horseshit right now.
But Lawrence didn’t stop. In fact, he laughed so hard he had to wipe away a tear from his eye. When Lawrence’s chest began heaving for his efforts, Kenton had a difficult time remaining angry. The whole situation was just so ridiculous. After living for so very long, he had some appreciation for that.
He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to imagine what his father would have said to him at this very moment. His father . . . the only man in his acquaintance who had ever advocated for peace with their northern neighbors.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he said suddenly, the memory buried so deep that Kenton had not thought of it in centuries.
“You and Rowan came to Bowden with your father. We were what, fourteen?”
“Something like that,” he said. It was the first and only time they’d been inside the great hall of Bowden Castle. Kenton had been struck by the opulence of it. He had not expected such a fine display of wealth and power in the heart of heathen country.
His prejudices had run deep.
“I believe when negotiations fell apart, just before you left, your brother called me a ‘little shite,’ despite the fact that he was younger than I,” Lawrence said, his face still lined with amusement.
Kenton didn’t remember that, but it certainly sounded like something Rowan would say.
Lawrence’s expression sobered. “If our fathers had come to an agreement that day . . . ,” he said, trailing off.
He’d had the same thought. And yet, it had been too soon. The two families had already had so much history and bad blood behind them. And so another path had been chosen, one that had led them on a much longer path than any of them had expected to take.
“What will you do now?” he asked Lawrence, wondering the same of himself. He’d hoped to stay with Alessandra, but he doubted she would ever speak to him again, and for that he would be sorry for the remainder of his days.
He could hardly blame her.
Besides, even if Lawrence and Laria had successfully masked her and her brother, he thought it a good idea to lead Rowan away from Stone Haven, even if the thought of leaving left a horrible ache in his chest.
Lawrence shrugged. “Maybe stay for a while.”
He could see the appeal. There was something special about this quaint, sleepy town. It had just the right combination of grit and
innocence—a throwback to a simpler time.
“I do have a job here, after all.”
Kenton smiled. What appealed to Lawrence about standing behind a bar slinging drinks, he would never know. Perhaps Alessandra’s roommate factored into his decision?
“You?”
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Kenton stuck out his hand, and Lawrence shook it.
“Thank you,” he said. To his surprise, he meant it—with every fiber of his being.
No other words were needed.
His time at Stone Haven had come to an end.
Alessandra rocked back and forth on her porch swing as she watched passersby on the street. The final shriek of the train’s whistle broke her reverie, reminding her of its caboose. And Kenton.
If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost feel the power of the train racing toward the center of town. Or maybe she was just imagining that.
Something she wasn’t imagining? A vampire nearby.
A chill had crept up her spine and settled in her chest, blooming into a pulse of warning like the one she’d felt the other night. This wasn’t Kenton or a Derrickson, but a vampire she didn’t know.
Lifting her shirt, she fumbled with the belt and wooden knife at her waist. She’d promised Lawrence to wear it, always, but she’d never imagined needing it so soon. Or ever.
So much for the cloaking.
Pulling out Lawrence’s knife—the one Birdie had given her sat inside on her dresser, useless—Alessandra gripped the handle and waited.
He, or she, was getting closer.
Heart hammering in her chest, Alessandra remembered to lower the weapon just in case it could be seen far away.
“If a human sees you brandishing a wooden knife, you’ll need a good explanation for it,” Lawrence had reminded her. She was far enough away from the street that it likely wouldn’t be seen, but still . . . the person approaching her wasn’t human.
With every second that ticked by, the feeling of danger increased, and she could sense the vampire—a man, she thought—approaching. Her fingers tightened on the weapon until the grip was painful, and then they tightened more.
She stood, her instincts bringing her off her feet and ensuring she was no longer a sitting duck, and caught a glimpse of the door. Should she go inside? Her logical mind told her she should, but something inside her pulsed an objection.
Then she saw him at the end of the sidewalk. He could only be Kenton’s brother. He had the same black hair. As he approached the porch, she could see the same blue eyes. But the darkness she’d sensed in Kenton was a damn rainbow compared to this guy. She didn’t need her ancestor’s blood running through her veins to know this man was a threat. The murderous look in his eyes told her as much.
“What does a schoolteacher need with a wooden knife?” he asked, taking another step toward her.
When he spoke, hatred poured from him like liquid fire.
She’d never been good at keeping quiet, but her life had never been on the line before. Anything she said right now could lead to a fight—one she’d likely loose. So, against her every instinct, Alessandra remained silent.
“It seems I was right the first time,” he said.
He had been here that night.
Gripping the handle, Alessandra concentrated on the exact spot where Laria had told her to aim. But could she really stab Kenton’s brother in the heart?
Do I have any other choice?
He stopped at the foot of the stairs just below the porch.
“Hello, Rowan.”
He didn’t flinch.
Would he attack her here, in full view of the street? She had no idea. Alessandra only knew one thing about Kenton’s brother: he despised the Cheld.
He despised her.
So why hadn’t he killed her that first night? And why wasn’t Lawrence’s bracelet concealing her like it should?
“Kenton lied to me,” he said.
She resisted the urge to respond, Join the club.
If he wanted to banter, she’d play his game. For now. But if Rowan thought it would distract her, he knew nothing of the Cheld. She’d never felt calmer or more focused in her life, and given the situation, that was pretty incredible.
“How did you find me?”
She was too curious not to ask.
His shoulders rose and fell as he stared at her with a combination of loathing and fascination.
“My brother,” he said. “He doesn’t involve himself with humans. Or become defensive on their behalf.”
He took another step toward her, and Alessandra thought again of making a break for the door. Once inside, she’d be safe. But her feet didn’t move. Instead, her hand tightened its grip on the knife again and prepared to strike.
But she hadn’t been prepared for how quickly he could move. Before she even had time to lift her arm, he was standing beside her, his hand on her wrist—turning it, twisting it, his grip like a vise. She finally had no choice but to drop the knife.
Rage filled her. This was her home. Her town. And she would not be bested by an outsider, no matter how old or strong. No matter whose brother he was. Twisting her empty hand away, she released herself from his grip but didn’t stop to celebrate. Instead, she used a very human reaction and kneed him in the balls as hard as she possibly could.
When he stumbled back, she chanced a brief glance at the street. They’d not attracted attention yet.
Remembering to use her momentary advantage, Alessandra sank to the porch and picked up her knife, intending to sink it into Rowan’s black heart. But a voice stopped her.
“Alessandra, don’t.”
That brief pause was all it took for Rowan to gain the advantage. It didn’t matter to him that his brother had shown up. Rowan clasped his hand around her wrist once again, his other hand ensuring she had no means to move by holding her wrist behind her back.
“Rowan”—this time Kenton’s voice was not as gentle—“you have an audience.”
She could feel Rowan’s breath on her neck. The bastard had actually lowered his head to her neck, preparing to, what, bite her? Kill her?
Instead, he let her go, pushing her away hard enough that Alessandra stumbled before she regained her footing. An instant later, Kenton and his brother stood facing each other like two feral beasts. Behind him, on the street, a couple stood immobile, staring at them in shock.
She waved her hand as if to say, Nothing to see here. Which was a bold-faced lie. If Kenton hadn’t appeared, they’d very likely have witnessed a murder. Either of a vampire or by a vampire.
Backing away from them both, Alessandra watched in fascination as Kenton and his brother faced off, pacing around each other. She couldn’t tell who was angrier. In fact, she’d never seen Kenton like this before, like a fallen angel, full of righteous anger.
Alessandra took another step back.
“You’re a goddamn liar.” Rage oozed from Rowan’s every word.
“She is off-limits.”
Alessandra swallowed. The couple hadn’t moved. In fact, they’d been joined by a handful of other bystanders.
Fantastic.
Rowan shook his head. “You would protect a Cheld?”
She could tell the brothers were on the verge of attacking each other, the tension between them obvious to her and likely the gathering crowd. Alessandra should probably say something, but the shock of nearly being killed just now began to set in.
“I told you to go—”
“After lying to my face, brother. How could you . . .”
It was as if he didn’t have the words to describe how appalled he was, and as they both looked up at her, Alessandra suddenly felt dirty. As if she’d done something wrong.
“Leave it, Rowan.”
The whispers became hard to ignore, so when both men finally noticed they were the center of attention for more than a half dozen spectators, they began to back away. Kenton first, followed by his brother.
But even though it no longer appeared they would attempt to pummel each other on her sidewalk, neither seemed inclined to completely capitulate.
“Go,” Kenton growled. “Leave Stone Haven to me.”
She didn’t think Rowan would answer, but he did.
“You chose the wrong side, Kenton.” With that, he turned and walked away. Past the onlookers, he opened his mouth and hissed at them. They gasped and jumped back as he disappeared down the street.
When Kenton turned toward her, opening his mouth as if to say something, Alessandra finally did what her stubborn ass should have done in the first place. She pivoted on her heel, turning away from him, and promptly tossed open her door and walked inside. He called her name, twice, but she slammed the door on him, shouting, “You are not invited inside,” and sank to the floor. Lifting her hands, she sat there and watched them tremble. The calm she’d felt earlier had completely abandoned her.
She was utterly and completely alone.
Chapter 22
Alessandra turned the bracelet around and around as she’d done for most of the day. Sleeping was not an option. Not after what happened yesterday. Between Lawrence’s lunchtime chat and its implications for her father and the late-night encounter with Rowan . . .
Ignoring Kenton’s texts assuring her Rowan had left town, Alessandra attempted to keep herself busy. Key word, tried.
Taking a hot bath hadn’t helped. Or working on her syllabus. She’d tried those things, plus she’d gone on a long, punishing run, but nothing made her feel better. Nothing helped her forget. She’d resorted to walking aimlessly around town.
Toni had invited her to have lunch, with the stipulation that Tyler was going, and she just didn’t have the stomach to deal with him. Or anyone, really. She could have called Charlotte or another one of her friends, but to what end?
Hey, Charlotte. Feel like grabbing lunch? I discovered yesterday my vampire boyfriend, who wasn’t really my boyfriend, wanted to kill me. And then his brother actually tried to do just that. I could use some moral support.
Not so much.
Garrett hadn’t wanted to leave town, but after what Lawrence and Laria had told them, he’d felt confident they were both safe, and so he’d driven back to school. After all that transpired, however, she didn’t think he’d stay away for long. He’d even discussed finishing his coursework online if possible. She had to admit, she liked the prospect of having him around just now, especially after what happened with Rowan.
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