Page 10 of Visions in Blood
Devon wasted no time.“Tell me why you’re here.”
“Looking for Cressa Langtry.”He was quick to respond, but spoke in a faraway monotone.Was that how I’d sounded when Margo had mesmerized me at the tea party?I must have appeared like a love-starved teenager when she came on to me.How embarrassing.
“Why are you looking for her?”
“She has something Mr.Underwood needs.”
“And what is that?”
“A necklace.”
That didn’t make sense.That would have been stealing from my mother or April.I would never do such a thing.
When nothing more was asked, I glanced up and found Devon watching me through the narrow gap in the window.Did he expect to see signs of recognition or guilt?He must have sensed that I was as clueless as him.
“What type of necklace?”Devon gently prodded the man, who remained lethargic.There must be different levels of mesmerizing because I’d been more animated when under Margo’s temporary thrall.
“Silver.”
“That narrows it down,” Sergi grumbled.
“Tell me more.”
The bodyguard shrugged.“It’s some type of medallion with pictures engraved on it.Animals of some kind.Old.Like an heirloom.”
My blood ran cold.That couldn’t be right.He couldn’t be talking about that necklace.It wasn’t stolen.My mother had given me that necklace when I was about six.She’d taken it from me a few years later but had given it back when I graduated.I attempted to school my expression, but when I glanced at Devon, I’d been too late.In some vain attempt to pretend I hadn’t noticed, I focused my attention on the bodyguard, waiting to see if he’d share something of greater interest.As if what he’d just revealed wasn’t already mind-blowing.
“Take him back to the apartment with the other one.”Devon got back in the limo.
Sergi led the man away, his head bent low as if he was sharing a secret.Probably some vamp way to ease the man out of the mesmerizing, which appeared to have been deeper than what I’d experienced.That was a scary thought.
Devon didn’t speak on the drive back to the estate.I nursed my vodka until we turned into the driveway.Once the limo stopped, I got out without waiting for Lucas to open the door.Devon met me before I took two steps and guided me up the stairs, his hand resting gently on my elbow.When we passed through the foyer, he steered me to his office when I tried for the stairs.
He’d want the whole story on the necklace, and honestly, what did it matter?It was nothing but a trinket from my father.The only connection I had to him.I couldn’t see how this had anything to do with his mission, but one thing was a fact.There was no way in hell I was going to hand that necklace over to Christopher.
ChapterFive
I sankinto the leather sofa and stared at the fire in Devon’s office.My life used to be normal.A heist here, a heist there.Living job to job.My best friend Ginger and me against the world.Now, our home, albeit a cheap apartment in the worst part of the city, was routinely tossed by Christopher’s henchmen.Ginger was living out of a fancy hotel paid for by a vamp, and I worked for said vamp, living in his grand, if not completely dreary estate, stealing stuff by his request, and experiencing the occasional erotic dream of him.
No.Not of him.
I shared those dreams with him.Realistic dreams filled with touches, scents, and tastes.I shook my head and reached for my neck, more accurately for the necklace that wasn’t there.The one I hadn’t worn in years.
My reverie was interrupted when Devon handed me a brandy snifter and sat on the sofa next to me.Mere inches separated us, but he faced the fire as I did, his glass of brandy braced on his thigh as we stared at the flames.
Before that fateful ball, this was a familiar scene between us, though we’d be in the library.Sometimes we’d read, other times we’d discuss a mission or some family issue he seemed to enjoy talking through with me.
Tonight, tension flowed beneath the casual setting, yet Devon didn’t speak or ask any questions.He waited for me.The man had the patience of a saint unless he was truly angry.And, God knew, I’d experienced those times as well.Though if we were alone with his anger, the moments turned sensual, easing his temper, and typically led to those erotic dreams.
I sipped the brandy, the warmth filling my belly, and by the third sip, I was ready.
“I’ll make you a deal.”Now that we were here, I wasn’t sure where to begin, and the confidence I’d felt earlier had been dissolved by his sheer presence, his leg almost touching mine.He was too close to speak of such intimate dreams.I stared at his hand holding the glass of brandy, and memories washed over me like a warm waterfall: that hand running through my hair, caressing my face before his lips followed the same path, grazing my breast and pinching my nipple before his fangs teased them, then the roughness of them as they ran up my thigh, parting my legs… I sat up, sloshing the brandy.
Get a grip, Cressa.
My face burned with the heat of my blush, and I lowered my head so he wouldn’t see it.As if he couldn’t smell the desire flooding me.I forced the images of less pleasant dreams to resurface and that did the trick.We’d been discussing Sorrento before Lucas interrupted us.He’d said it was time to talk about the dreams.Time for him to come clean.This wasn’t about me.
“I’m listening.”
