Page 39 of Because the Night

My funeral must be any day now. I didn’t ask when they were burying fake me from the fire. They might just be putting the ashes in an urn. I don’t have any particular preference. Such a sad and horrible time for my family and friends. My heart hurts just thinking about it. No one likes losing a loved one or being reminded of their mortality. I wish I had the photos from my cell and apartment. Anything familiar would be nice. Like my favorite tee or the few pieces of jewelry I treasured. Guess the antique silver locket Mom gave me for my twenty-fifth birthday would be out, even if it hadn’t been destroyed by the flames.

Grief is strange. And I am mourning my old life. It’s the little things. Like walking to the café down the street on a Sunday morning or receiving random text messages from friends. All of that life is just waiting a short drive from here. But it might aswell be on the moon. At least I can still remember Mom’s voice and Dad’s laugh. Or the way Nicole would roll her eyes when I tried to tell a joke and mangled yet another punchline. And I play those cherished memories over and over inside my mind.

Meanwhile, here I am living in the vampire equivalent of a hobbit hole in the Hollywood Hills with a bunch of immortal male models. The places life takes you. Or death, for that matter.

“I thought about having you stay here at the house tonight,” Lucas says out of nowhere. “But it’s not the right choice. You need to see how the family works together. You also need to be seen to be fitting in and taking your place.”

“You’re worried people will see me as a weakness.”

Nothing from him.

I roll onto my side, all the better to stare at him. Nothing happens. I screw up my face and concentrate harder.

“Are you trying to read my mind?” he asks with a faint smile.

“It’s not working.”

“Just ask me what I’m thinking. It might be faster.”

“Alright,” I say. “What are you thinking?”

“That the situation in L.A. is more complex than I like. But I still consider this city my home. For now, at least.” He jerks his chin at the bedside table. “Drink your blood bags. As soon as the sun goes down, we’re leaving.”

I sit up and stop. Because there on the bedside table, along with my evening blood bags, is an old, red velvet box. “What’s this?”

“Just something I found lying around. Thought you might like it.”

Inside are two diamond-stud earrings. And they are not small. “Holy shit. That is not nothing. Not even remotely.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. I picked them up in Belgium a while back.” His dark brows draw close together. “It’sgood to diversify investments. Not to have everything tied up in property.”

“They’re beautiful. The first-edition Austen and now these…I’m beginning to think somewhere down in the depths of your dark and creepy heart, you actually like me, Lucas.”

He grunts. “Hurry up and drink your blood. We don’t have all night.”

I set aside the expensive jewelry and start sucking down the red stuff. “Where are we going and how dangerous is it going to be?”

“It should be straightforward. Archie owned The Boulevard. His family is in disarray so we’re claiming the building, along with his seat on the board.”

“What happens to any of his people who are still there?”

“We won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t try to hurt us first. Any of his people still in the building can resettle elsewhere. He’s sure to have owned other properties we can use for that purpose.” Lucas looks me over. “Skye, do you know how to fire a gun or defend yourself?”

“I hate guns. But I did take a self-defense course when I was eighteen.”

“Hang back and keep your head down. Do exactly as you’re told at all times,” he says. “Am I understood?”

“You’re worried about how it’s going to go down tonight.” I don’t need to read minds to know this much. It’s obvious from his body language and tone of voice.

“Everything will be fine.” And that’s all he says.

Benedict drives a bulletproof Mercedes G Wagon. It is every bit as big and built as the man himself. He takes his job as guard seriously. His gaze is constantly on the move once we leave the house, watching for attack. The amount of weaponryhe and Henry removed from the armory was wild. However, they wouldn’t even let me have a dagger. Not even a reasonably dull letter opener. Which is insulting. I’m wearing another set of black jeans, boots, and a tee. Much the same as the others. And the way Lucas pulls off jeans and a V-neck tee is a sight to be seen. Modern, casual clothing suits him just fine. I ignore Benedict’s quiet suggestion to wipe the drool off my chin. One of us has to behave like an adult.

One of these nights I’m going to stop being so mesmerized by Lucas. Any time now. That would be nice.

The diamond earrings are still sitting safe and sound on the bedside table. I don’t even know what to think about the gift giving. Nothing about this situation makes sense. And Lucas’s reasons for doing things tend to be sketchy at best.

When we pull up outside The Boulevard Hotel, all is eerily quiet. No sign of guests, staff, or others. But the doors are open, and the lights are on. A woman wearing a white pantsuit and heels walks out to greet us. She has brown skin and shoulder-length dark hair with strands of silver. Her chunky, sapphire and white-gold necklace is stunning. So, too, is the matching dagger she carries on her hip. There’s nothing low key about this woman. She’s living forever in high style.

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