There was no signature on the email message, and no return address to respond to.
Rage simmered below the surface that someone would prey on Toven’s fears. I longed to go to him and comfort him, reassure him. Love him. But I knew he needed time to sort through his feelings at the moment.
I sat back down and finished creating the latest piece to load to YouTube. It took a little bit for it to load to the site, and when it finally did, I shared the link on all his platforms. Then I took notes on some of the other videos and photos, jotting down what needed to be done next to grow his following.
After a long while, the music coming from the music room had shifted from rage-filled to sorrowful. I took that as my cue to go to him.
When I stepped up to him, I rested my hand on his shoulder. His head turned, and he planted a kiss on my skin while he continued to play.
I was afraid to speak. I was at a loss as to what to say.
He shook his head, and a sad smile ghosted his lips. That adorable dimple was nowhere to be found.
“You are so pure and good,” he murmured, shifting to the higher notes to play an uplifting tune. “And I am dark and not good.” His hands shifted to the bass notes, playing a booming dirge. “We can’t work. I wish we could. But we’re an impossibility.”
My mind scrambled, trying to come up with the right combination of words to make him understand. I watched his fingers move up and down the keyboard. That was it.
I squeezed his shoulder. “You are good. Only you think you aren’t. But so what? Look at the keys you’re playing.”
His hands stilled on the keys.
“There are ivory keys and ebony keys. All of the most beautiful songs require both keys to sound perfect. Alone, I am innocent and clean, like the white keys. You are dark and mysterious, like the black keys.” I lifted his hand from the piano so I could slip my body between him and the massive instrument. Once I’d straddled his lap, I took his face in my hands, forcing his gaze to mine. “A song of just white keys would be melodious but have no depth. A song of all black keys would be sharp and edgy but have no beauty. But a song containing both is soulful and resounds in the ears and hearts long after the notes have faded.”
He rested his forehead against mine and looked as if he was considering my words. “I’m not sure it’s fair for you to use musical analogies against me.” One corner of his mouth tipped up in a crooked smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. But I was willing to take the small victory.
I gave him my brightest smile. “I’m just speaking your language.”
His hands gripped my hips then slid me forward. “Are you all done with what was on your to-do list today?”
“Yep. Did you finish yours?”
A darkness flashed in his expression before he shuttered it away and replaced it with a smirk. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled against my lips. “How about we have a late lunch and binge on more episodes of True Blood?”
A blush heated my face as I recalled watching a couple of episodes with him already.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours that’s making you turn my favorite shade of red?” Toven lifted his hand to brush my hair behind my ear.
“Umm . . . thinking about watching all that . . . sex and wondering if that’s what it’s really like,” I whispered.
It was his turn to blush. “Yeah, I had no idea they were going to show that much flesh on a TV show. Things have certainly changed in the rules of what they’re allowed to depict in an episode. And we only watched like two episodes. What are they going to show next?”
“The show wasn’t aired on regular TV, so they’re able to get away with more. When I suggested we watch it, I’d forgotten how racy it was.” My skin warmed as I recalled lying next to Toven on the plane, watching the vampire on the screen use his super speed to have sex with the woman he’d chained up.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Toven asked.
My head dropped to his shoulder so he couldn’t see me as I voiced what was in my mind. “I was just remembering that bald vampire using his speed to you know . . . pleasure that woman chained from the ceiling.”
“Ahh.” His chest reverberated against mine. “You’re wondering if that’s the preferred speed of vampires?”
I nodded against his neck, still unable to meet his gaze.
“It’s not necessarily the preferred way of all vampires or even all the time. We like variety, just like humans. And a partner worthy of you, be it human or vampire or werewolf—” My head lifted at that, astonishment making my jaw drop open. “Kidding about the werewolf. They’re purely fictional creatures. Anyway, any partner lucky enough to be with you would take what you prefer into consideration. It should be pleasurable for everyone involved.” He ran his knuckles under my chin affectionately. “Now, you go get the next episode ready for us, and I’ll see to lunch.”
He stood, still holding me, then planted the sweetest kiss on my lips. In moments, it deepened, stealing my breath. All too soon it was over.
Gently, he let my legs drop until my feet touched the floor. With a wink, he dashed off in the direction of the kitchen. Lightheaded and on wobbly legs, I made my way to the living room.
As I got everything set up on the TV, I wracked my brain trying to recall what would be in the next episode. It was no use. But I was pretty sure there would be nakedness and sexual acts. I hadn’t seen many episodes, but I couldn’t recall one without sex. Why on Earth had I ever suggested that show to him?
Before I could come up with a good excuse to watch something else, Toven sank down onto the couch next to me with a tray of food—two sandwiches and a bowl of berries. He passed me a glass of sweet tea.
I took a soothing sip of the heavenly liquid. It was perfect. The quiet popping of a bottle top being turned caught my attention. Toven tipped a bottle of B-negative to his mouth.
I’d thought once he’d drunk from me, he would stop using the bottled stuff, but he hadn’t. Schooling my features, I leaned over and placed my tea on the end table. I picked up half of a sandwich and took a bite.
“Mmm.” The chicken salad sandwich was delicious. “What’s in this?” I asked once I swallowed.
“It’s Mrs. Burkett’s recipe. She uses grapes to give it a little extra touch of sweetness. Plus, homemade pickles from the cucumbers in her garden. It’s one of my favorite things she makes.” He took a healthy nibble of his sandwich and quickly mimicked my moan of appreciation of the taste. Then he washed it down with a gulp from his bottle.
He shifted so that his body faced mine at an angle. “You’re upset that I’m still drinking bottled blood?”
“Well, I . . . uh . . . I thought once you realized that you could drink from me without harming me, that you’d continue to do so,” I stammered.
“What’s your all-time favorite thing to drink?”
“Purple Rain,” I said without hesitation. My mouth watered just thinking of it.
“Yet, I’ve never seen you order it anywhere we’ve been. Maybe because if you allowed yourself to have it more often, it wouldn’t be as special?” his voice lifted at the end, adding a question mark to his thought.
I nodded as I considered his words.
“And even the beverage you prefer on a more routine basis—sweet tea—you don’t drink at every meal or throughout the day. You have it when you can savor it and enjoy it.” He wiped a droplet of tea from the corner of my mouth then sucked the moisture from his fingertip.
Again, I merely nodded.
“You, my shining star, are my absolute favorite drink of all time. I don’t want to ever take your flavor for granted. It is the most exquisite thing that’s ever touched my taste buds. All of your essences are my most preferred tastes to have on my tongue.” His gaze smoldered with heat and his tone dripped with innuendo, making me clench my thighs together in need of relief.
He plucked the remote from where it rested on my thigh and started the show.
31
Toven
When we were both in my office, I couldn’t keep my gaze from drifting to her. I didn’t even bother to hide my blatant staring from her. And then when I stormed out to deal with my anger, I could still my fingers on the piano and tune my ears, allowing her heartbeat to fill them. That sound made everything right in my world. And it inspired me in a way that I had never been stirred before.
By the end of the day, we both had much to show for our efforts. I had a polished song ready to market plus the start of a composition for Jim Gibson to consider, and Celesta had made considerable progress on creating even more of a social media presence for me.
Sadly, I couldn’t do the same today. Even worse, I wouldn’t be back tonight. It was time to pay a surprise visit to the housing development. Though I longed to bring her with me, I left Celesta working in my home office and headed out.
When I finally arrived, I didn’t bother checking in with the foreman or the security booth. I wanted to wander around, examining things without a shadow trying to steer me in one direction or another. Two partially framed houses stood along the far right of the property. I headed in that direction first.
It had been a while since I’d done any actual construction, but something about the supplies stacked between the two skeletal homes didn’t look right. I picked up a beam, bouncing its weight in my hands before I dropped it back on the pile. Getting out my phone, I used it to capture an image of the wood pile and tapped a note on it.
Then I stepped up to the structure in front of me. Moving through the framed rooms, I knocked on each stud I passed. Only the most sensitive of ears would be able to detect the difference in sound among some of the pieces used to create the walls.
I went to the next structure and repeated the process. I also noticed that some of the load bearing beams didn’t appear to be the proper size or installed exactly right.
Silently, I entered one of the houses closer to completion. The crew was inside working. As the nail guns fired off nails into the walls, I counted the length of time the pops of sound lasted. They were inconsistent. Different length nails were being used. But with what the crew was working on, that shouldn’t have been the case.
Methodically, I moved through each house at the back of the property. With knocks, raps and bounces, I tested the construction of walls, door frames and stairs. I surveyed the logos on the piles of supplies in the center of the development, which were unfamiliar to me.
By the time the sun was setting, I had been through almost every building on the grounds. Though I didn’t have solid confirmation, I was certain something fishy was going on. It was just something in my gut.
“Toven,” Victor called from behind me as the moon rose higher in the sky.
I turned as he entered the room I was currently surveying in the model home.
“I didn’t know you were coming out today. Had I known, I would’ve arranged someone to show you around,” he said as he held his hand out to shake mine.
“I didn’t know I was coming until things lined up perfectly to give me time to make the trip. And I didn’t need a guided tour. I know my way around a construction site.” I waved off his words. “The model looks good. I like the staging,” I said as I ran my hand along the back of the sofa.
Victor’s chest puffed out at my words. “Lily is amazing. She was quite a fortuitous find in more ways than one.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Please go ahead and secure her help for staging the other models when their construction is complete. Now, show me the vampire-friendly features,” I commanded.
He led me over to the large front windows. Pointing to the insignia in the corner, he said, “The glass in all the windows is UV-resistant and can be darkened with the press of a button.” A remote rested in the palm of his hand.
I picked it up and pushed the button, watching as the glass pane darkened.
“The windows are also equipped with sun sensing blind technology. Which, oddly enough, I think humans will also appreciate. When the blinds detect a certain temperature level or UV level, they will automatically close. It’s a technology that will do wonders for energy efficiency here in the south.”
Victor strode in the direction of the kitchen. “Under the counter here, we’ve installed a larger blood storage system with adjustable temperature controls. It’s even equipped with smart technology, keeping track of how much blood remains and can even submit an order for more once it reaches a level set by the homeowner.”
I bent down to peer inside, pleased with the quality of the appliance. Corners hadn’t been cut in this instance at least.
Victor headed off in the direction of the upstairs. I followed behind him to the room at the top. “We’ve installed a smaller version in the master suite.” He motioned toward an enclosed nightstand with high-end wood finish. Pressing the top corner, the entire façade swung open, revealing a smaller version of the appliance in the kitchen.
“Nice.” I meandered around the suite, surveying the large open bathroom then the walk-in closet.
“There are two other bedrooms and another bathroom up here. Standard amenities. Let’s go back downstairs so I can show you my favorite room.” The glee on his face was disturbing.
Once we reached the bottom of the stairs, Victor turned to a door beneath the stairs. I ducked slightly and followed him down to a split-level.
“Lights on,” he commanded, and the overhead bulbs flared to life. Victor stood in the middle of the room, spinning in a slow circle.
The room was huge. Shelves and decorative hooks adorned one wall, which held nothing yet. The walls were bright white and very smooth. I reached out to run my hand over one.
“Medical grade material. Easy to clean and resistant to just about anything,” Victor said smugly. He pointed up at the ceiling, where eyehooks were anchored into beams stretching across the ceiling. “More attachments for fun times. Walls are soundproofed so the homeowners won’t disturb their neighbors while enjoying their . . . playroom.”
I could only imagine what sorts of scenes his demented mind was envisioning in here. Spinning on my heel, I walked out.
“Thanks for showing me this. I have a few other things to take care of tomorrow while I’m here. But I probably won’t see you. Take care, and I’ll see you when we’re both back in the office.”
Victor watched me from the property entrance as I drove away.
It wasn’t that late when I checked into the hotel I’d booked, but I was exhausted. I used my phone to set an alarm, then collapsed on the bed to think about all the things I suspected were wrong with the development being constructed down the road.
“Mr. Adams, you need to get to Brownstone Apartment complex. Now,” an urgent voice shouted in my ear through the phone.
I settled the receiver into the cradle with a bang. Without stopping to consider the potential consequences, I ran out the back door. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was there, I dashed away, covering the mile between my office and the newly-opened apartment complex in seconds.
Horror awaited me when the crown jewel of my development company came into view. Bricks were falling to the ground as one side of the building was mid-collapse. The shouts and cries from the rubble reached inside and pierced the space where my dead heart lay.
The scene moved in fast forward. I identified each body pulled from the wreckage. Each one loaded into the coroner’s van crushed a piece of my spirit. The last covered figure was actually two bodies—a young mother with her baby in her arms.
A wail spilled from my chest. As I stared down into her dead eyes, the image in front of me wavered. The woman covered in dirt and dust morphed into a stunning form. A hand tipped with r
ed fingernails reached out and grabbed me as the body sat up.
“Toven,” Cassandra purred, trying to pull me into her arms.
I woke with a jolt. My heart hammered in my chest in a way it hadn’t since I drew my last breath as a human. Twisting my head, I read the red glowing numbers on the clock. Only nine.
Good. I had time to shower, have dinner and then call Celesta.
32
Celesta
I only had a few hours of work to do for Toven. And since I got up when he left, I was able to get a head start. The growth his pages had seen in such a short amount of time was really astounding. There was a message from someone wanting to set up a meeting to discuss the latest clip loaded to Facebook.
When I was satisfied that I’d done all I needed to for work, I buried myself in my dad’s notes. I spread out the contents of a new box of papers on my bed. In a couple of the folders, there were files labeled with the initials I hadn’t been able to find in the company directory—they must be former employees. I wasn’t sure how I’d find out who the references were to. Maybe Dad had an old directory in his notes. I made a mental note to keep an eye out for it.
I unearthed another file of figures. Over half the numbers listed were highlighted in orange, meaning they didn’t meet Dad’s checks and balances. Stapled behind it was a file with the same expenses and dates listed but with different dollar amounts—much lower dollar amounts.
Dad’s initials were on the bottom of each sheet. But the printout dates indicated the page with the lower numbers had been printed at the end of the month in which the expenses were incurred. The highlighted page was printed a couple of months before Dad died.
Someone had not only been shuffling money into untraceable accounts, but they’d also been doctoring the expense sheets after Dad had signed off on them. That would point the finger directly at Dad if the discrepancies were ever discovered.
Blood Song: Refrain (Blood Song Series Book 2) Page 28