by I. T. Lucas
“About?”
“Our plans. He basically told me that it’s not a big deal if a civilian uses thralling as long as no one gets hurt. A few days in a dungeon is probably all we will get for thralling the information out of the bastard.”
Richard put down his newspaper on the coffee table. “I heard that Brundar got a whipping for something similar. And if that’s in the cards, I can tell you right now that I’m not on board for that.”
“Brundar chose to get whipped because he didn’t want to waste time in the dungeon. Edna gave him the option, and he turned it down. He’d also beaten up the guy, so more than thralling was involved. Besides, Brundar hinted that we don’t have to confess. We just need to be careful not to get caught.”
Richard shook his head. “I don’t want to break any clan laws. I’m a new member, and I’ve just gotten my freedom back and can come and go as I please. I don’t want to lose my privileges over this. If we do it, we will have to confess.” He took a deep breath. “Even if all we get as punishment are a few days in the dungeon, I might lose my job over it. I’ll have to tell Kalugal and ask whether he’s okay with me missing several days of work.”
“If we get caught, I’ll take the blame and say that you tried to stop me.”
“I still need to ask Kalugal for a few days off to go with you. How am I going to excuse it?”
“You can tell him the truth or just say that you need to keep an eye on me, so I don’t do something stupid. I don’t think Kalugal is going to spill the beans to Edna. Then again, he could blurt something to Rufsur, and the guy could tell his mate. You’ll have to ask him to keep it confidential.”
“Good point.” Richard turned his head to glance at the hallway. “Did you tell Wendy?”
“About my father?”
“That too. But I meant about what you want to do to hers.”
“No to the first, and yes to the second. She’s okay with me thralling him to get the information, but she doesn’t want his blood on my hands. I promised her that I won’t kill him.”
Richard nodded. “Then you definitely need me with you. I’ll ask Kalugal first thing tomorrow morning, and if he doesn’t mind losing me for a few days, I’ll book us a flight for Wednesday. We’ve been pussyfooting about this for long enough.”
“I agree.”
“When are you going to tell Wendy about your father? And why didn’t you yet?”
Vlad shrugged. “There is nothing to tell because I don’t know anything about the Kra-ell.”
“You know where you got your strength from, and your eyes.”
“That‘s unimportant. I need to find out what kind of people they are, and what I heard so far doesn’t inspire confidence. I was much happier believing that my father was some random human.”
Richard chuckled. “When your mother acted all mysterious about who your father was, I thought that he might have been a criminal, and that was why she’d kept his identity a secret. A human father is not necessarily better than a Kra-ell. Emmett isn’t evil. He’s smart, cunning, and self-serving, but he didn’t kill or harm Eleanor, although he could have. So even though he’s a bloodsucker, he’s not a murderous bastard.”
“Yeah, I guess. But he is a bloodsucker, and that’s disturbing.”
Richard regarded him with a smile tugging at his lips. “I assume that you never had a craving for blood.”
“Gross. I get nauseous just thinking about it.”
Richard shrugged. “I don’t know why. You bite during sex, and there is always a little blood that you need to lick. Does that gross you out?”
“Of course not. It’s Wendy’s blood, and it’s just a few drops.”
“Did it taste good?”
It didn’t taste bad, but he didn’t crave it.
“It does, but I never felt the need to take more.”
“But you don’t get nauseous from licking her blood, so the rest is probably all in your head. If you didn’t think of bloodsucking as gross, you might have enjoyed it, at least a little bit.”
“Why? Do you think you would have liked it?”
“I’m the type of guy who’s willing to try almost anything at least once before I knock it down.”
Vlad grimaced. “I really don’t want to hear about your sexual preferences. You are mated to my mother.”
“You asked, and I answered.”
26
Margaret
“Are you excited?” Ana lifted another section of Margaret’s hair and wrapped it around the curling iron.
“I don’t know what to think. Why is Bowen taking me out on a date?”
Ever since Ana and Leon had returned to the cabin, Bowen had been acting strange. He was as courteous and as helpful as before, but Margaret sensed a distance between them as if he was uncomfortable being around her.
At first, she’d thought that he’d figured out she was attracted to him and wanted to let her down gently, but then, out of the blue, he asked her out.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Letting the curl she’d made cascade down Margaret’s front, Ana separated another section to curl. “He likes you, and he wants to take your friendship to the next stage.”
“What next stage? He hasn’t given me any indications that he was interested. And why would he?” She waved her hand at the mirror she was sitting in front of. “Just look at me.”
Ana released the curl and leaned over Margaret’s head, looking at her in the mirror. “You are beautiful. You just haven’t done anything to accentuate your beauty in ages. Once I’m done with you, you will look like a new woman.” She sighed. “I wish I had told Leon to get some hair color when he and Bowen went shopping. Blond highlights would have brightened your face.” She separated another section and wound it around the curling iron. “Except, God knows what he would have brought back. You can’t send a guy to buy stuff like that.”
Looking at the dark circles under her eyes and her hollow cheeks, Margaret doubted Ana would be able to pull off a miracle and transform her into a beauty with a curling iron and some makeup.
Even after more than a week of rest and being fed and pampered by Bowen, she still looked haggard. She wasn’t attractive, not on the outside, and not on the inside. He just didn’t know enough about her to realize that her lack of beauty was more than skin deep.
“Stop looking like you are getting ready for a funeral.” Ana waved the iron around. “You are going to a nice restaurant with a handsome guy. Smile!”
When Margaret’s smile turned out to look more like a grimace, Ana shook her head. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to stare at your sad face when I’m trying to make you beautiful. Imagine happy things and try to relax. I’ll tell you when I’m done.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Margaret closed her eyes and imagined herself back at Safe Haven, teaching the workshop she’d started putting together in the cabin.
It was about making chocolates and truffles as an expression of love. What could be more satisfying than combining her favorite treat with craftsmanship and art? She doubted there would be even one community member who wouldn’t want to participate.
The internet was a fabulous source of information, providing her with everything she ever needed to know about making chocolates. She’d watched YouTube videos, copied recipes and pictures, and neatly organized everything in the application Bowen had downloaded for her.
Perhaps now that Emmett was gone, she could convince Riley to allow community members to have computers and cell phones.
As time away from Safe Haven passed, Margaret’s blind worship of Emmett and everything he’d preached was starting to fade. It made her sad to admit that Emmett hadn’t been right about limiting the community’s access to the internet. It was true that it was easy to get lost in it and get distracted away from productive endeavors, but there was so much information out there. So much to be learned. It was as if all of humanity’s accumulated knowledge was access
ible to everyone on the globe.
It was a revolution that had completely passed her by. But she was part of it now, and she wasn’t willing to let it go. If Riley resisted, Margaret was going to fight her hard and put the issue to a community vote. With Emmett gone, they could become a real commune, where everyone had a voice.
At some point during her musings, Ana switched from doing her hair to applying makeup. It was like getting a massage or a facial. It was relaxing, and Margaret wasn’t even curious to see the transformation. Given the canvas Ana had to work with, there was only so much she could do.
“You can open your eyes.” Ana patted her shoulder.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Until I see myself, I can imagine that you’ve managed a miracle. When I open my eyes, I’ll have to face reality.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Ana gently squeezed her shoulder. “Come on, Margaret. On the count of three. One, two, three!”
Cracking one eye open experimentally, Margaret looked at the mirror, but it was hard to see with just one eye and she opened both.
“Oh, wow.” She leaned closer. “You’re good.”
Her hair was no longer dull and hanging limply around her shoulders. Instead, soft, shiny waves framed her face. The dark circles were gone, and her big brown eyes were framed with a delicate dark brown line and black eyelashes. Coral tone lipstick added a splash of color to her face, which no longer looked grayish.
She actually looked pretty.
“Thank you.”
Ana beamed at her through the mirror. “Now, let’s get you dressed.”
“My options are very limited.”
Ana walked over to the closet and pulled out one of the three dresses Bowen had gotten for her. “Don’t worry. We will make it work.”
27
Bowen
Bowen was as nervous as a teenage boy going on his first date. He hadn’t even told Margaret how beautiful she looked because he’d been too stunned by the transformation to say anything.
She’d expected him to say something, he’d seen it in her eyes, and yet the only words that had left his mouth had been, “Let’s go. Our reservations are for eight.”
Suave. It was a miracle he’d managed as many hookups as he had.
But what could he have said? That she looked beautiful because her hair was done and her makeup hid the dark shadows under her eyes? Nothing about her had changed intrinsically, and to compliment the superficial seemed wrong on some level.
Sitting next to him in the car, Margaret fidgeted with the clasp of her purse. “It was nice of you to think of a way to give Ana and Leon some privacy. Given the long drive, we will be gone for more than four hours. I’m sure they appreciate it.”
Bowen wanted to bang his head against the wheel. Of course, Margaret would think that. He hadn’t given her any reason to think that he wanted to spend time with her, to woo her.
“That’s not why I asked you out.”
She chuckled nervously. “That’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings by admitting the truth. I’m happy to do this for them, and I will enjoy an evening out with you even if it’s not a real date.”
The woman was too selfless and unassuming for her own good.
“Is it so hard to believe that I asked you out because of you and no one else?”
Smiling, she turned to him. “We spend all of our days together. You don’t need to ask me out to get to know me. I think that by now, you know me better than most of my friends in Safe Haven.”
If that was true, then she didn’t have any real friends. He knew practically nothing about her, aside from the things he’d guessed, and those were just speculation. The only glimpses she’d allowed him into her life before Safe Haven had been her admission to an opioid problem she’d overcome and her cryptic remark about having seen evil.
Bowen wanted to know more, but as long as he was just a friend, she had no reason to confide in him. He hadn’t told her much about himself either.
But if they were to become more than friends, someone had to make the first move, and that someone had to be him.
“What if I want to be more than your friend?”
She laughed. “Oh, Bowen. Did Leon put you up to this?”
In a way he had, but she couldn’t have known that, and it was irrelevant. Leon had just given him a push in the right direction.
“He has nothing to do with it.”
It took Margaret a long time to respond. “Why would a guy like you be interested in me?”
“Why not? You are smart, compassionate, and pretty.”
“I’m nothing special. I have very little going for me, and I live in a community that you consider a cult. I really don’t understand what’s your game, Bowen. I have nothing you need or want.” She turned her face to look out the window.
If Margaret was a Dormant, she had everything he needed, but he couldn’t tell her that.
“I feel a pull toward you, and I know that you feel it too. All I want is a chance to explore it, and I’d rather have a nice talk away from the cabin over dinner in a restaurant.” He turned toward her and smiled. “Besides, you’ve been cooped up in that cabin for days on end. I figured you would enjoy a night out.”
“It was very nice of you to take me out to dinner.” Margaret let out a breath. “It’s just that you are doing so much for me, and I don’t understand why. No one is that selfless.”
He shrugged. “I told you my motives. I needed a vacation, and you provided me with a perfect excuse to take one.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “We both know that was just an excuse. You did it for Leon and Ana.”
“In part.” He took a deep breath. “So, here’s the truth. Something about you called to me, and I couldn’t bring myself to let go of you. In fact, every time I think about you returning to Safe Haven, I feel an ache right here.” He rubbed a hand over his chest.
“I feel the same,” she murmured. “It makes sense why I feel that way, but it doesn’t for you.”
“We are about to figure it out.” He cast her an amused smile. “Relax, Margaret. We are only going to a restaurant, not eloping to Vegas.”
28
Margaret
For the rest of the drive, Margaret tried to keep things from getting too serious.
Bowen was right. It was just a date, and neither of them was committing to anything other than enjoying each other’s company. So she talked about her workshop, and how she was planning to convince Riley to allow computers and cellphones for each one of the community members.
Bowen nodded. “The retreats generate enough money to allow for much more luxury than the community members enjoy. The question is whether people will keep coming without Emmett’s charismatic presence adding to the mystic allure of Safe Haven.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Perhaps we can keep pretending that he’s still there.”
Bowen chuckled. “Doing what? Meditating in his secret chapel?”
“Why not?” She lifted her arms. “We can claim that by meditating, Emmett is projecting his awesomeness to every guest of the retreat.”
It was so much easier to talk with Bowen about anything other than their so-called relationship.
As long as he hadn’t shown interest in her, Margaret had successfully stifled her attraction to him, and she would have preferred to keep it that way. Having him as a friend was better than losing him entirely because she desired a man she shouldn’t. But now that Bowen was hinting at his interest, her subdued urges were bubbling to the surface.
“Unfortunately, they don’t have a valet service at this place,” Bowen said as he turned into the restaurant’s parking lot. “It’s not as fancy as I would have liked it to be.” He cast her an apologetic smile. “But a place like that would have taken another forty-five-minute drive.”
“I don’t want anything fancy, and I can hobble to the entrance.”
“I have the wheelchair
in the trunk. Do you prefer that to the crutches?”
“Actually, I do. It will be easier for everyone if you just wheel me in instead of me hobbling on one foot. There’ll be less staring.”
He let out a breath. “I love how reasonable you are. If it were Anastasia, she would have insisted on walking.”
He was probably right. Ana was prideful, while Margaret’s pride had been stripped away a long time ago. When she insisted on fending for herself, it was because she didn’t want to be a burden, not because she was embarrassed to accept assistance.
Help wasn’t offered often or freely, and when it was, she’d learned to take it and say thank you.
Life was difficult enough as it was.
Bowen took the wheelchair out of the trunk, unfolded it, and then pushed it to her side of the car. When he opened the door and reached for her, Margaret didn’t argue even though she could have gotten into the chair on her own.
She probably should have, though.
Being carried in his strong arms, inhaling his masculine scent, it was impossible to suppress her raw attraction to him.
He lowered her gently into the chair and then draped the coat Ana had loaned her over her knees. “Ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
When they entered the restaurant, the hostess smiled at her. “Skiing accident?”
“I wish. Unfortunately, it was just a bad fall.”
“I hope you get better soon,” she said and turned her attention to Bowen. “This way, please.” She sauntered in front of them, sashaying her shapely hips and butt for Bowen’s benefit.
To his credit, his eyes hadn’t shifted to her ass even once.
When they were seated, the hostess handed them the menus, flashed Bowen an inviting smile, and sashayed away.
“She couldn’t have been more obvious if she tried,” Margaret murmured from behind the open menu.
“She’s just a kid.”
Margaret lowered the folder. “She’s no more than a couple of years younger than you.”