Page 9 of Seduction in Blood
Remus stopped long enough to whisper, "If you need anything, or find yourself in trouble, just contact me." He slipped me a silver-colored business card with a number on it. Cheeky for a shifter to carry silver business cards.
He strode out with his two bodyguards behind him. Once the front door shut, the silence intensified, the sound from the grandfather clock pounding like war drums as I awaited my fate.
The vamp nodded, and the other six figures disappeared from the room as silently as they'd arrived. He stared at me briefly before calling out, "Anna, please make up a room for our guest. The west-side corner suite on the second floor should do. And Anna?" A woman, who I hadn't seen, stepped forward out of the shadows. She was younger than me. Was she a vampire or just a human servant? "Pandora will require a wardrobe. I'll provide a full list, but a change of clothes for this evening and tomorrow will be required immediately."
Anna nodded and disappeared into the shadows, her tiny footsteps receding down the hall.
"I apologize for my poor manners. Had I known you weren't one of his pack, I would have been more hospitable. But Remus only mentioned the meeting was of some urgency."
I was tongue-tied. He was sorry for ignoring me? Didn't see that coming. I guess I was one step higher on the ladder than I thought.
He glanced at his watch. "And this meeting has put me behind schedule." He sauntered to a side table where he retrieved a tablet, the device seeming futuristic in this gothic setting. His lips moved as he typed, and I wondered if he was talking to someone that only a vamp could hear or to himself. I almost smiled. The behavior seemed so human.
"Have you eaten?"
Another surprise. "Not recently."
He nodded, still perusing the tablet. "Lucas will take you to the kitchen. Cook usually has something available. By then, your room should be ready." He laid the tablet down and turned to me. His expression had softened to a friendlier visage, which only made him more attractive. Good grief. "I'm sure you understand I can't give you any freedom until we've gone over the rules. We can discuss those tomorrow. Lucas will be your guard for this evening. All I ask is that you remain in your room. If there's anything you need, Lucas will show you how to contact Anna."
Then, he walked out the door.
I turned around, wondering who Lucas was. No doubt a vampire.
When no one arrived, I took the time to investigate the room more thoroughly, not knowing if I'd ever get another chance. I wasn't sure how far my chain would go.
I picked up what appeared to be a Fabergé egg. Real ones were so rare. I'd only seen one in a museum and another in a magazine. Based on the other treasures in the room, I didn't question its authenticity. Why wasn't it in a locked case? Oh yeah. Vampires. I wasn't an expert on antiques, but as a thief, I had to know the value of objects when negotiating with a fence. When I began pilfering, what seemed a lifetime ago, it had been a game. Then it was a way to stay alive.
I discovered how quickly I picked up the right skills, and my notorious career was launched. I'd begun with stealing simple stuff that was easy to unload—ordinary jewelry, small electronics. The money was decent, but the jobs had been limiting, so I began picking up other trinkets. That opened new avenues for learning when I started working with various crews around Santiga Bay and all points south to San Francisco.
"If you'll follow me." The voice made me spin around. Another good-looking vampire. This one was the California surfer type. Blond hair cut short on the sides but longer on top, letting a little fall over one of his crystal-blue eyes. But rather than a bronze tan, his skin was pale. His expression was stony, yet there might have been a slight twitch to his lips when he glanced down at my hands. "Were you planning on stealing while you're here?"
I turned to put the egg back where I'd found it. Then waited for the heat to leave my cheeks. Could vampires read my thoughts?
"You'll need to learn to be less obvious. But a thief handling precious antiquities will always raise a brow." He clapped his hands. "Come now. Cook doesn't like to be kept waiting."
I took a cooling breath and turned to him. He hadn't moved, his arms held behind his back, but his expression had changed to one of impatience if I read those brows correctly. I strode toward him, pushing my fear down as I got closer, but before I was ten feet away, he turned and marched down the hallway. He didn't speak, and that was fine by me. I turned on surveillance mode, checking out each room as we passed, sketching out a floorplan in my head, and making note of exits.
The kitchen was massive, with two sets of ovens on the far wall and a long counter with two double sinks and cabinets to the right. In the middle was a huge island, almost as long as the counter. A table that fit twenty was on the other side of the room. Probably an eating area for the servants or lower-ranking vamps.
Next to a window, a table for two sat in a corner nook with a single place setting, a glass of water, and an empty wine glass. Outside the window was nothing but blackness.
"Sorry, we're late." Lucas motioned me to the table before dropping onto a stool at the island.
Cook was not the stocky old woman I was expecting. This guy was a bruiser. If he was a vamp, he was the first ugly one I'd seen. His features were marred with two ragged scars. The first ran from his hairline, down the middle of his forehead, and across the edge of his left eye, while the second traveled from his right cheek to his upper lip. His dark shaggy hair was tucked into a hairnet of all things. I had to stifle a laugh. The net seemed so out of place on this man who was well over six feet tall and, with those shoulders, must move through doors sideways.
His dark eyes pinned me like a bug to the floor. Once again, I wondered if I might be on the menu.
"Sit," he barked and pointed toward the nook.
I almost ran to sit down. This was not someone I was going to mess with. One slap of his hand could knock me out for days.
For his size, Cook moved around the kitchen like a ballerina. His movements were mesmerizing as he put a plate together and set it in front of me. My stomach growled at the scent, and I almost drooled at the sight. Aromatic lasagna, green salad, and garlic bread. He returned with two small dressing servers.
"This one is Italian, and this one is my special dressing, refined after many years." He waited. I had a feeling he wasn't going to leave until I made a selection. I glanced at Lucas, who was grinning now. He nodded toward the big man, which could only mean one thing.
I stared at the dressings, not wanting to know what made Cook's dressing special, but I pointed toward it, and his smile deepened the creases of his scars.
"Excellent choice." He poured a small amount on the salad before setting the serving dish down. Then he brought a bottle of wine and held it up. When I nodded, he poured a glass of red. "This is a pinot from the valley. Very good." He left the bottle then returned to his side of the kitchen to continue cutting vegetables.
