Page 20 of Don't Bite the Boy Next Door
I frown and shake my head.
‘He’s still adamant he didn’t leave flowers for me all those months ago?’
Waving, I walk back into the tree line, before sprinting through the forest and over the fields separating our properties. But as I enter my yard, I see a shape inside my home and freeze. Scanning the area for danger, I note the guinea fowls are wandering around eating bugs. And I see Orson waiting for me, seemingly unconcerned, on the porch.
‘Who could be inside my home? No human would visit after dark – especially unannounced.’
Pru’s message to be careful at the forefront of my mind, I creep up the porch steps and peer through the lounge window at the intruder, a deep whooshing breath of relief leaving my body as I see who it is.
“Lars?” I laugh as I walk inside, genuinely pleased to see him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he grins, standing and sweeping me into a hard embrace.
“I had no idea you were in the US,” I smile, stepping back and holding him at arms-length so I can study his face. “How long have you been over? You should have said, I would have picked you up at the airport.”
“It was a whim,” he shrugs, ignoring the first half of my question and turning to walk back and flop back onto my sofa, “a surprise.”
“Iamsurprised,” I smile, picking up Orson for a cuddle and shaking my head. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Had a snack on the way here, but thank you anyway,” he smiles, a full-fanged grin.
“Oh, no one I know, I hope.”
“Doubt it,” he shrugs. “You and your soft heart. Anyway, I disposed of the body in the Dane Weir, so you don’t have to worry about anyone tracing it back to you.”
“I wasn’t worried about that,” I murmur. “It’s a small town, that’s all. I plan to continue living here.” I put Orson down and tilt my head to one side as I study him. “You look tired. Is everything OK?”
“Sure,” he shrugs. “I just felt like a little R and R in the countryside, and I remembered my good friend. Thought we could hang out for a while before I head back to Geneva.”
“Geneva?” I shake my head, “you always were the globe-trotter.”
We spend the night, and the next, catching up. It has been so long since I’ve spoken to another vampire, in person, apart from Pru, that it feels like a wonderful treat to just relax and be myself.
Lars has given no indication of how long he is staying, but I don’t mind, he is so easy-going and good to talk to.
“So I heard,” he smirks where he lays on the porch swing, watching me paint moths, “that Serena and Charlotte and their boyfriends took out Solomon together, with very little other assistance. I thought this must be a total exaggeration. What really happened?”
I don’t turn as I answer him, but the mention of Solomon has set the hair on the back of my neck on edge. Even after all this time, his name can hitch my breathing.
“Uh, no, that’s about right. And Pru, she was there, of course.”
“And you weren’t. Why?”
“I didn’t want to leave the farm,” I murmur.
“Tess,” he laughs, “bullshit. There is no way the girl I know would miss Charlotte’s wedding. You must have had some other reason.”
I turn and roll my eyes at him.
“Maybe I did.”
“Well? Don’t leave a friend in suspense. Why didn’t you go to the wedding? And how the hell did your sisters finally manage to best one of the most powerful vampires on Earth?”
I consider him as he pushes the swing gently back and forth using his foot against the side of the house. We have been friends for close to one hundred years, briefly lovers, but have rarely met over the past three decades. He’d been there when I needed a place to hide, when Solomon had almost caught us in Europe one year. He’d found me cowering, mindless with fear, in an alley and offered me shelter in his apartment in Prague until I could meet back up with my sisters. We had been firm friends ever since and he is the only vampire, outside my sisters, who I trusted enough to keep in contact with.
“Have you ever met an Irresistible, Lars?”
“Like your Jacques?” he frowns.
