by Lara Nance
“Do you mind telling me exactly what it is you want me to do?” Drake tilted his head to one side.
Talia smiled. “We’re going to turn you into Count Dracula.”
Chapter 7
“Stop here.”
Talia’s cab pulled in front of the address Felix had given her. An old warehouse loomed above her as she stepped onto the sidewalk and gazed at the dark façade. The moon drifted from behind a cloud, glistening on the deserted street’s wet pavement. She wrapped her muffler around her neck to block out the cold.
She paid the driver and took a deep breath. This better work. She’d given her assistant free rein to spend as much money as he needed, and he didn’t think small. She only hoped she could make her presentation before Harvey got the bills from her expense account and had a heart attack.
Before she reached the warehouse’s heavy metal door, a black van arrived at the curb. A short, thin man exited the driver’s side, his dark mustache not hiding his disgruntled expression.
“What’s all zis about, Tiger? He stomped across the sidewalk to face her. “Eet’s Sunday night, and my wife iz furious.”
“I’m sorry, Anton, but seriously, you’ll thank me.” Talia gave him a peck on each cheek. “This is going to be so big, your pictures will be on the cover of every major magazine and newspaper in the world.”
“Ze world?” He squinted at her. “Ah, enfin, you got ze Fizzola account.” He beamed.
“No, screw Fizzola. This is better.” She headed for the door. “Grab your camera and let’s go.”
He shrugged, returned to his van, and collected several padded bags, which he slung over his shoulder. Talia rapped on the locked door. A boom echoed into space on the other side. First, a click sounded, then a creak. The door swung open and Felix greeted her, his hair uncharacteristically tousled and his tie pulled loose to the side of his unbuttoned collar.
“Is everything ready?” She pushed past him with the photographer following.
Her assistant closed the door and relocked it. “My bonus better be bigger than the Empire State Building for all the miracles I pulled off today. Hey, Anton.”
The photographer raised his chin in acknowledgement as Felix slipped past him to stride beside Talia.
“You love the frenzy. Don’t try to fool me,” she said. “Now where is he?”
“This way.” Her assistant motioned to a hall on the left.
A single light bulb encased in a wire cage protruded from the ceiling every eight feet or so, casting sparse light on the hallway. Shadows clung to the edges of the ceiling and empty doorways along the sides. The smell of stale cigarettes and mold hung in the chilly air. Talia shivered even though she’d used this location several years ago for photo shoots.
She entered a vast area where the outer reaches remained encased in blackness. At the back of the room, standing lights glowed down on a Victorian living room complete with red velvet upholstery of dark, elaborately carved wood furniture. A fake fireplace was topped by an ornate gilded mantle holding statues and a silver candelabra burning black candles.
Talia shivered, but this time in delight. The set looked perfect. Exactly how she’d picture Dracula’s castle in Victorian times. Bram Stoker would be proud. Anton strolled around, inspecting lighting equipment and muttering under his breath.
“What do you think?” she asked when he returned to her side and dropped his bags beside a tripod at the edge of the set.
“I know you did not drag me out here to shoot zis living room furniture, so let’s get on with eet. Eh?”
Felix?” She turned to her assistant.
He rubbed his hands together as a smile widened his mouth. “Get ready.” He hurried into the darkness on the left.
Talia tapped her foot and crossed her arms. Anton unzipped a bag and removed a camera. As he fidgeted with the lens, a stream of white fog drifted in from the area where Felix had gone. It grew thicker, creeping across the floor like thick, white, spectral fingers. She elbowed Anton in the ribs, and he glanced up then froze.
Her heart raced as a dark figure moved slowly onto the set, almost floating with his effortless gait. Dusky light highlighted the paleness of his skin. His hair had been slicked from his face and grazed his collar in the back. He wore a black suit with a white shirt. Encircling his stand-up collar was a red velvet ribbon weighted in front with a gold, ruby-studded medallion. Beside her, Anton swallowed audibly.
Amber eyes focused on her and her racing heart stalled. Dear lord, he was handsome. What had Felix done? Drake’s gaze didn’t leave her face as he moved to the center of the set and stopped. Mist swirled around his legs.
“Start shooting,” Talia whispered. Anton raised the camera to his eye. She glanced to where Felix stood in the shadows, a smug smile on his lips. She gave him a thumbs up and moved to meet him.
“It’s spectacular. What did you do to him?” she asked in a low voice.
“Not much, really. He’s changing. Becoming more used to what he is.” Her assistant’s smile faded. “It’s kind of eerie. He didn’t scare me at first, but now…something’s different. I keep looking over my shoulder to see if he’s stalking me. Crazy.”
She rubbed her arms. “I know what you mean. He used to seem vulnerable. When he walked out of that fog, it’s like he’s become a predator. Totally self-confident.”
“It’s the blood.”
A shiver crawled up her spine. “The blood?”
“I think the blood is changing him.”
She turned to the set, an unsettled tingle twitching in her stomach. Anton worked his magic, directing Drake, moving him to different positions, talking to him in that sing-song French accent that seduced models to his camera. Drake responded, giving the photographer the image of a haughty, mysterious vampire with a flash of sensuality here and there.
“Eef only there vas a woman,” Anton said, dropping his camera on its neck band. He stomped his foot. “We need someone for him to seduce.”
She took a step forward but stopped short. What the hell was she doing? Her gaze met Drake’s, and those amber eyes called her forward. The warm tingle of his call lured her to him. The emotional tug was almost overwhelming. She had to wrap her arms around her stomach to control the impulse to run into his arms.
“Just a minute.” Felix’s voice broke the trance, and Talia blinked. He hurried into the darkness.
A second later, more fog crept in and a stately woman strolled forward. She wore a burgundy velvet gown that swept the floor and kicked up puffs of mist. The dress had long fitted sleeves, but the neckline draped off the shoulders and into deep V’s at the front and back. Her long brown hair was styled in ringlets, gathered in a mass of curls on top of her head and trailing down her back to her waist.
Talia’s breath caught in her throat. It was Gerri. She was gorgeous. Talia couldn’t help a glance at her own size A breasts, insufficient to fill out that dress the way Gerri did. Felix returned and grinned. Gerri strode toward Drake, their gazes locked. Anton snapped away, moving side to side to catch every angle.
Gerri and Drake inched toward each other, staring intently. Finally, chest to chest, he raised his hands and gripped her upper arms. The ruby of a gold signet ring flashed red on his left pinkie. Her head drifted back and her eyes closed as he slowly lowered his head until his lips rested on the curve of her neck.
Talia gasped and realized she’d been holding her breath. Her heart thumped, and she had to force herself to stand still. The urge to rush and pull Gerri away from his arms almost overpowered her. She wanted to be the one he held. To feel those cold lips on her skin.
Felix shook her arm and the spell broke. “What’s wrong?” He stared at her like she’d turned into an alien or something.
“What do you mean?” She dragged her eyes from the scene.
“You looked like you were in some kind of trance. I was talking and you didn’t even hear me.” He glanced at Drake and back to her. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
She slapped a hand against her chest and sucked in a deep breath. Drake had power to entice people to him. She’d felt it before. When she crawled in the trash in that alley, she’d wanted him to draw her into an embrace. Some man she didn’t know, curled beside a dumpster. It hadn’t mattered. A vampire trick to lure in his prey.
“Stop them,” she hissed to Felix, afraid for Gerri.
He stared at her a moment then rushed onto the set. Drake had swept Gerri into a full embrace, bending her backward as he focused on her throat. He bared his teeth. Felix yanked her friend from the vampire’s hold. Drake retreated a step, his amber eyes glowing. He glared at Talia then strode from the set.
“What eez going on?” Anton planted a hand on one hip. “Zis was fantastic. Why are we stopping? I need more shots.”
Gerri straightened and blinked rapidly. “What happened?”
Talia hurried after Drake. Her assistant had assembled a makeshift dressing room in an area off to the side. Large candles in glass jars scattered the area and cast yellow flickers about the room. Drake stood at the center, his back to her, hands clenched at his sides.
“Drake?” she whispered, pausing in the doorway.
After a moment, he faced her. Lines of grief marked his pale features, and his eyes drooped in anguish. “This isn’t going to work.”
She took a step closer. “Of course it will. Why are you upset?”
“You don’t trust me.”
“I, I, I do. Really.”
“No, you don’t. You thought I was going to bite her.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “You think I’m a monster.”
“You…I….um.” She twisted her hands together. “It’s not that.”
“I saw your expression. Don’t lie to me.” He moved toward her.
She focused on his nose. Maybe if she didn’t look in his eyes she could maintain control.
“Why else would you tell Felix to end the shoot?” He stopped inches from her. “Everything was fine, and he grabbed Gerri from my arms.”
She spun around, her breath catching in her throat and her knees trembling. There had to be a way to shield this power he had over her. She couldn’t let him know her weakness.
“I don’t want to go that far on this first round.” Moving from him, she composed her features. “We have to tease people. Keep you a mystery. Leave them wanting more.”
When she’d put five feet between them, she turned. “That’s all.”
He stared at her a moment and his frown eased. “I see.”
“So, let’s ask Anton if he needs more single shots of you, and then we can wrap this up.” She managed a shaky smile.
After several seconds he nodded. “Very well.”
He followed her to the set. Felix stood with Gerri in the shadows, and Anton fiddled with one of his cameras.
“Sorry about that,” Talia said. “Just had a moment there. Had to regroup. Do you need any close-ups, Anton?”
Drake strolled to the fireplace and rested one arm on the mantle.
Anton glanced at him. “I’d like more shots with ze girl. Such passion. It was magnifique.”
“I think we have what we need there. Just do some close ups and we’ll be done for the night.” She went and stood next to her friend.
“Merde,” Anton said quietly. He stomped to Drake and posed him for additional pictures.
“Are you okay?” she asked Gerri, searching her features for some sign of turmoil. Her friend appeared calm and composed.
“Sure. What happened to Drake?” Gerri yawned.
“He’s okay. What about you? Didn’t you feel anything…weird when you were posing with him?”
“Weird? No. It was fun.” She giggled. “I hope you need me again. I always wanted to be a model, but I couldn’t give up chili cheese dogs.”
Talia glanced at Felix who simply shrugged. She shook her head. It appeared only she felt the strange supernatural tug. What did that mean? She and Drake had some link he didn’t have with anyone else? Maybe it was her imagination. Hopefully so. Otherwise there was something very strange going on.
Chapter 8
“Are you sure you trust me?” Drake asked in the elevator to Talia’s apartment.
She averted her eyes. “Of course. I said I did. Don’t you believe me?”
He remained silent the rest of the ride to the fifth floor. However an unmistakable fission of tension hung in the air.
After opening her door, she flopped on the couch hoping he would drop the subject. She was tired and didn’t have the energy to analyze the weird chemistry between them right now.
There was still so much to accomplish with the presentation and time was running out. Anton should have the digital prints to her by tomorrow and she could start putting together her campaign outline. Slogans and timelines whirled in her head.
Drake hesitated at the threshold then followed her into the living room. He paused at a montage of framed photos on the back wall and studied them. He glanced at her over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. Without a word, he went to his bedroom.
A twinge of guilt stirred her heart. Yesterday, Gerri had accused her of using him. Was she? He fit right in with her fabulous plan for Romania. But what did he have if he left? He had nowhere to go. No money. In many ways, he was like a child—a vampire child, learning to live in his new form with few memories of his past and no parent to guide him.
“Have you ever been married?” His voice made her jump. He’d changed into a black turtleneck and jeans. He crossed to the wingchair and sat.
“No. Why do you ask?” She tucked her feet under her and leaned sideways against the cushioned arm of the sofa. She couldn’t meet his gaze. An uneasy twinge of nervousness settled in her stomach. Where was he going with this?
“There are no children in your pictures. They are all pictures of you in different places.” His eyes darkened to almost brown. They picked at the depths of her soul like a hot chisel.
“I’ve always been too busy to…settle down.” She bit her lip. Was that really the reason? She squirmed in her seat.
“Must be lonely.”
“Are you kidding?” She flipped her hair out of her face, forcing cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “I’ve been all over the world, and met all kinds of famous people. I’ve had a fabulous life.”
“Of course.” He rubbed his chin and shifted in his chair. “So, what do we do tomorrow?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Talking about her life made her uncomfortable. It was better not to think too deeply about her personal decisions.
“I’ll need time to develop an outline. I’ll hire an architect to design a model for the theme park and resort.” She twisted a strand of hair around her index finger.
“What about me?”
“We have to prepare for press conferences, TV interviews and personal appearances. You’ll work with Felix and me over the next two weeks to prep.”
“You really think Romania is going to like this idea?” His expression was curious but guarded.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Most people try to hide dark parts of their past.”
She retrieved her laptop from the coffee table and opened it. “Don’t worry. It’s my job to make them like it. And let me assure you, I’m very good at what I do.”
First order of business, she had to e-mail Harvey and let him know she wasn’t coming into the office for a while. Her work time had shifted to afternoon and evening with Drake around. Having to be at the office at eight would kill her. Besides, she felt the need to keep an eye on her vampire.
Drake wandered into the kitchen while she typed. She seriously needed to get him a book to read or something. All he did was wander around her apartment. After she e-mailed Harvey, she sent another to her friend Brent who had done architectural designs for her before. He’d love a project like this. She ran her fingers through her hair. She had so much to accomplish in two weeks, and hoped they could pull it together in time.
The clank of pans in the kitchen caught her attention. What was he up to? After a few more e-mails, she closed her computer and padded into the kitchen. Drake appeared to be…cooking.
A variety of items from her refrigerator scattered across the granite top island in the center of the kitchen. Two pots and a sauté pan sat atop the stove. He rummaged in her spice cabinet, extracting bottles and lining them up on the counter.
“Well, seems my kitchen may not survive your boredom.” She slid out one of the stools at the island and hoisted onto it. “What are you up to?”
“I’ve remembered something about my past.” He went to the refrigerator and withdrew a carton of half and half. “Hmm, fat free…”
“What did you remember?” She rested her chin in her hand.
“I like to cook.” He poured some of the cream into a sauce pan and turned on the burner.
“Well, I hate to spoil it for you, but you don’t eat regular food anymore.”
“It’s okay.” He ran a hunk of parmesan down a grater. “I just like doing it. Besides, you might enjoy a good meal or two.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She frowned.
He ran his gaze over her body. “You look starved. Are you too busy to eat properly? I can help. I’ll cook for you.”
Irritation burned in her chest. First Felix, now him. “For your information, I’m a healthy size four. I fit into the designer lines and I work hard to stay that way.”
He made a soft snort, and poured her a glass of red wine from an opened bottle.
She snatched the glass from him and took an angry sip. “I suppose you’re one of those men who think women should be plump, soft housewives, padding about the house in ugly slippers.”
He extracted the blood pail from the refrigerator and poured the thick red liquid into another wine glass. “Cheers.” He raised the glass in salute.
“Well?” She clinked her glass against his, but continued to glare.
“No, that’s not what I believe. I do think women look better with round curves, soft and delicious. That’s the way you’re supposed to look. Not a gaunt, sticklike skeleton.”