Page 50 of Because the Night

“I hate this. I hate being scared. Life would have been a lot nicer if I never knew exactly how many monsters were out there hiding in the dark.” I frown. “What have we got on for tomorrow night? More bedlam? Maybe with a side of carnage?”

“I’m not sure yet.” His blank face is now impenetrable. I don’t have a clue what he is thinking. “You’re handling all of this better than I expected. Clearing the hotel. Getting threatened by my brother. Finding out he set you on this course.”

“I’m going to pretend that was a compliment.”

“It basically was. I will protect you, you know that,” he says. “About what happened in my office. I think—”

“Nothing happened in your office. Nothing that we need to discuss, at any rate.”

He just looks at me.

“You can relax, Lucas. I’m not going to start clinging to you like some lovestruck baby vampire who just discovered good sex.”

“Only good?” he asks.

“I’m going to bed,” I say on another yawn. “And I’m using the fourth bedroom on the right. I checked with Henry and Benedict and it’s apparently free.”

He raises his chin and narrows his gaze on me. Such expressive eyes. I can almost see all of the thoughts racing around inside his mind. But in the end, he says nothing. Which goes to prove that I am making the right choice by putting some space between us.

Because I can’t have any privacy, Henry is sitting on the bed beside me wearing a designer suit when I wake. For a brief moment, I think it’s Lucas. And the way my foolish heart is happy to have him close. To have him be the first thing I see. I need to have a stern talk with myself about making good choices. Especially when it comes to immortal men. No idea what nomad vampires are like, but the ones who congregate in families seem to be all about being in each other’s company. But it makes sense that forever would get lonely sometimes.

As for me, I’m more used to being on my own. It’s been over a decade since I left home for college and then settled in L.A. for work. Being in a big city can be lonely. Making friends as an adult can be hard. The gift of having a new family ready and willing to accept and support me through these wild times is beautiful. I still miss my human family. I’m not ashamed to say I cried myself to sleep again this morning. It hurts my dead heart to think of never seeing them again. Of never being a part of their lives. But I know Lucas is right, it’s safer for me to keep my distance.

“Hey,” I say. “What time is it?”

“The sun set almost an hour ago, sleepyhead,” he says. “Happy fifth day as one of the undead. Father has already left for The Boulevard. He and Leilah had some things to discuss. We’reto follow once you’re ready. I put some outfit ideas on the chair over there, and I’ll do your makeup and hair.”

“Thanks.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time I spent a couple of years touring the country with a theater company?” he asks. “It was 1910 and vaudeville was all the rage. There were singers, dancers, comedians, magicians, all sorts of acts really. We even crossed paths with Houdini once. Such an interesting fellow. It was a dreadful shame what happened to him. But back then, all we had to use for makeup was powder and lip stain and eyeshadow that came as a paste.”

“That’s where you learned how to do it?”

“I like to pick up skills here and there. It keeps things interesting. And makes me very popular with the ladies. Women love a man who knows how to be useful.”

The bedroom I slept in has an opulent, cast-iron bed frame with cushions and blankets in various shades of blue. There’s an empty armoire, a carved wooden Art Nouveau chair, and an en suite similar to Lucas’s. Though, not as large. Nothing has been hung on the stone walls. I don’t know if I slept any better in here. But my brain appreciates some distance from the object of my misguided and twisted affections. A chance to get my facts and thoughts straight. It was just good sex. It meant nothing. And I will keep telling myself as much until it becomes fact.

The painting of Ana is leaning against the stone wall.

“Why is that in here?” I ask, grabbing the waiting blood bag off the bedside table.

He gives me a sly smile. “Father said to take it down and ask you what you wanted done with it.”

I keep on sipping the red stuff and try to hide my surprise.

“Should I start calling you Mother now, or wait for the official announcement? Mom. Mommy. No. Neither of those feel quite right. Mumsy, perhaps?”

“Shut up, Henry.”

“I’m quite impressed with Father, really,” he continues. “He doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s doing with you. But bonus points for carrying on with confidence, regardless.”

Wow, there is so much I am not going to say.

“Of course, he’s had thousands of fuck buddies and such over the years. Despite being a lone wolf at heart, he has his needs. There have been a couple of times I thought he might actually be getting close to bonding with someone. But he inevitably always gave them a present and a pat on the butt and sent them on their way.”

“You make him sound like an immortal fuckboy.”

Henry laughs. “Please let me be there the first time you call him that to his face. I would take it as a personal favor.”

---