Just like a cat, he thought. “All right, ladies. Get home safe. We’ll do it again sometime.”
With that, he left and went straight to Kora’s office. He knocked once, then opened the door.
She wasn’t alone, but after glancing at him, she went back to whatever business she was dealing with. “Just get the inventories in by this afternoon, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The man left, closing the door behind him.
“Lock it,” she said to Greyson. “I don’t want to be disturbed again.”
He turned the bolt, then took a seat across from her desk. “So. What’s the story I need to know?”
She settled in, hands on her desk. “Not long after I made the decision to stay here in Nocturne Falls, all due to the reconciliation with my father, I received a package. It contained the other half of the locket. The one that’s supposedly been missing all these years.”
“And?” Because there was no way that was all the package had held.
She stared at the desktop for a moment. “There was a burner phone, too, and a note with the locket. Addressed to me. It said that I needed to find the other half of the locket, get the full inscription translated, then follow the clue that was revealed. And that I should keep doing that until the final treasure was revealed. That I would know what that final treasure was when I found it.”
“And you were supposed to do all this why?” He could already guess that it was some kind of blackmail. She certainly had a past ripe for that sort of manipulation.
“Because if I did…” She held his gaze. “You have to swear to me that you’ll keep this secret. I’m not supposed to tell anyone what I’m doing. I could lose what I’ve been promised.”
“I can’t do that. What if the next clue has you breaking into the Tower of London and stealing the crown jewels? I’m just supposed to keep quiet about that?”
“Yes. But I don’t think it will.”
He leaned in. “What are you so eager to keep hidden that you’ll go to such lengths?”
“I’m not trying to keep anything hidden. I’m trying to find something out, actually.”
Intriguing. “Such as?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. Trying to decide what to tell him, perhaps. At last she opened them, her gaze full of resolution and resignation. “Such as the truth about my mother.”
That wasn’t remotely what he’d thought she was going to say. “I thought your mother was dead.”
“She is. I don’t doubt that. But how did it happen? When? Maybe…maybe something happened that prevented her from getting home that wasn’t her fault. Maybe…she was trying to get home and…I don’t know. But I want to know.”
In that moment, he felt for her. He also understood. That longing to believe something different about your past, about the past of someone as influential as a parent, that was a driving force. He nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He reached into his pocket and took the locket out. “You can have it back. But on one condition.”
She looked wary. “What kind of condition?”
“I’m doing this with you. To make sure you don’t get in over your head. Any more than you already are.”
“You can’t. That’s a clear violation of what the note said to do.”
“You realize that if you follow this through and find this treasure, you then hold all the cards? If the person behind this wants the treasure from you, they’ll have to give you what you want.”
She hesitated. “I suppose that’s true. But what if they get mad that I’ve involved someone else and stop communicating?”
“Then you’re off the hook for finding this thing and in no different a position than you were when you started.”
She sighed. “Meaning I still won’t know the truth about my mother.”
“No. But…” He was about to make her an offer he’d probably come to regret. “Maybe we can look into it ourselves. I have a few contacts on the European Vampire Council who owe me favors. I can reach out to them.”
It was her turn this evening to be shocked, judging by the look on her face. “You’d do that for me? Why? What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. I just understand what it’s like not to have closure. Although, it would be nice if we could live peaceably in this town together. Especially since it seems like you’re here to stay.”
Her mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “That’s asking an awful lot.”
He gave her a similar look in return. “I realize that.”
“We can work on it.” She stood and stuck her hand out. “Deal.”
He got to his feet and shook her hand. “All right, then. Let’s get that inscription translated.”
“You can read Russian?”
“No, but I know someone who can.”
“Can they be trusted?”
“Absolutely.”
“How soon can we—”
A knock on the door ended the conversation.
“Who is it?” Kora asked.
“Your father.”
She looked at Greyson. “Unlock the door, please.”
He did as she asked.
“Come in,” Kora called.
The door opened, and Lucien walked in. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Dad.”
Lucien looked at Greyson, then back at Kora. “Everything all right?”
Greyson answered, knowing Kora wouldn’t want anything revealed to her father. “Just seeing if I can get a discount on my tab. I ran up quite the bill this evening.”
Kora rolled her eyes with clear disdain. “And I told him no.”
Amazing how quickly she returned to her usual self.
“Kora.” Lucien’s tone had an unusually soft edge to it. “I think for Greyson we can offer a little—”
“No, that’s fine.” Greyson shook his head. “If that’s how she wants it, I’ll abide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some sleep.” He made eye contact with Kora. “It’s been a long night. And I have a feeling the next few days are going to be just as long.”
As Greyson shut the door behind him, Kora grimaced. The man was still insufferable, even if he had offered to help. Which was just an offer at this point. She’d believe it when it came to fruition.
Her father sighed. “I wish you two didn’t have such an adversarial relationship.”
“Dad, stop trying to play matchmaker.”
“I am not trying to play matchmaker. The last thing you need in your life is a relationship.”
“Well, don’t worry, because it’s never going to be Greyson. He’s a modern-day equivalent of a sellsword. And a man who rents himself out to the highest bidder is never going to be the man for me.”
Lucien snorted. “You realize that highest bidder is usually me, and the work he’s done has been to come to your rescue.”
She frowned. “Don’t remind me. In fact, let’s not talk about Greyson anymore, all right?” She moved the mouse on her desk, bringing the computer monitor to life. “The evening’s reports aren’t done yet because I’m still waiting for cash-outs on a couple of the registers.”
“I can handle it. Get some rest. You look tired.”
She was exhausted, actually. Both from the stress of the evening’s events and spending time with Greyson. Spilling her guts to him the way she had wasn’t something she ever wanted to do again. She hated that his having so much information about her gave him leverage.
If he told anyone what was going on, this whole thing would come crashing down, and the answers about her mother would disappear forever. Because despite Greyson offering to help dig into the truth, Kora questioned how hard he’d really work on something like that.
Especially because it had just occurred to her how little Lucien would care for it.
If her father knew what she was doing and why, he’d shut it down. He despised his late wife. Kora knew that. And she understood. But Lucien would only think he was protecting his daughter.
/> He wouldn’t comprehend how important finding out what had really happened was to her.
So she just smiled and nodded. “I am a little beat. Sunrise always does that to me.”
She came out from around the desk, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
He put his hand on her arm. “Rest well. Mémé would love for you to come to dinner this evening.”
“I’ll call you later and let you know if I’m up to it.”
“Okay.” He smiled at her, his eyes filled with the kind of love they always had been, though she’d been too stubborn and bitter to appreciate it.
“Love you.”
His smile widened. “Love you, too, honey.”
She slipped out the side door that led to her underground home. She took the locket out as she walked toward her bedroom, eager to compare it to the half currently hidden in her underwear drawer.
But when she walked in and flipped on the light, something was off. “Waffles? Where are you?”
He was usually passed out on the bed, waiting for her.
“He’s right here.”
She jumped, whipping around to see Greyson standing in the doorway behind her, Waffles’s bulk cradled in his arms like a baby.
The cat had the nerve to also have his eyes closed in bliss as Greyson rubbed his tummy.
“What are you doing here? Why are you holding my cat? Waffles, are you okay? Is the bad man bothering you?”
Greyson laughed. “That’s a lot of questions. Now I have one for you. Waffles? Really?” He looked at the cat like they were suddenly best buds. “Women, am I right?”
Waffles stuck his front paws in the air and started kneading.
She huffed out a breath for punctuation. “What are you doing here? And put my cat down.”
“I thought you wanted to get the inscription translated.”
“I do, but why are you in my house?”
“Because it’s where you are.” He gave her an incredulous look. “Where else would I go?”
“But you’re in my house.”
“Right. Because you’re here. Try to keep up.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to preserve the calm he was eroding. Was he being deliberately obtuse to annoy her? If so, he was doing a bang-up job. Still, he had someone who could do the translation. She needed him for that much. She opened her eyes with new resolve. “How did you get in here?”
He held up his hand. A key dangled from one finger.
She frowned. “You can’t have a key to my house.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d purchased this domicile from your father.”
She ground her teeth together to keep from snapping his head off. “You know what I mean. I live here now. It was different when it was my father’s place. It’s not right.”
He waggled his brows. “Worried I might sneak in and ravish you?”
A curse slipped out. Followed by a second one. She felt marginally better. “You really are full of yourself.”
“For good reason.” He put Waffles on the floor. The cat wound around Greyson’s feet before sitting beside him. “I get things done.”
Rotten little furry turncoat, Kora thought.
Greyson leaned against the doorjamb. “Do you want this thing translated, or don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Then let’s go. I’ve already arranged it.”
“You realize the sun’s just about up.” She put her hands on her hips. “Or are you trying to toast me?”
An odd look of concern crossed his face. “I’d forgotten about that. Hmm.”
“I take it this individual isn’t reachable through the Basement?”
“No. He lives up in the hills.” Greyson rested his hand on his chin. “We could go in my car, if you’re willing to use an umbrella to get from the car to his door.”
“You want me to risk the sun?” She felt a little weak suddenly. Light-headed, even. Sounds went tinny, and the floor seemed to tilt beneath her. She reached out for the dresser a few feet away.
And found Greyson instead. “You okay? You got really pale. Which is saying something, all things considered.”
She shook her head, unsure of her ability to form words in the moment.
He helped her to the bed and got her to sit. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
She put both hands on the bed to steady herself. “I’ll be fine.”
“But what happened? Was that all because of the idea of going out in the sun?”
She nodded. “It started not long after I got to town. Right after my dad and I made everything right.” She swallowed. “The thought of being in the sun…”
He sat beside her. “Do you think it has something to do with your mother?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” She stared at the floor. “But why now? Why after so many years?”
“I don’t know. Maybe reconciling with Lucien made you finally accept your mother’s death?”
She thought about that. “Could be.”
“Hey. It’s okay. Everyone has something they have to deal with.”
“Right.” She gave him some serious side-eye. “What’s your thing?”
“Oh, I don’t have a thing. But most everybody else does.” With a grin, he got back to his feet. “I’ll make a phone call and see if we can meet this evening.”
He turned and took his phone from his pocket.
She stuck her tongue out at him. Maybe being saddled with him was her penance for all the mischief she’d caused throughout her life.
If so, when this ordeal was over, she ought to be starting with a clean slate.
Greyson returned to Kora’s house a few minutes before sundown. She’d be up. Probably had been for at least half an hour or so. Vampires, even those who were half reaper, could sense the sun’s cycle. But he didn’t let himself in this time. Instead, he rang the bell at the garage entrance, like any other visitor.
Although it was unlikely this house had seen many of those in its time. Lucien had built this place specifically to help him avoid people.
While Greyson waited, he looked around at the wealth of cars still parked in the massive underground space. But then, where else would Lucien keep his collection? The Victorian he and Imari had moved into was large, but only had a standard detached garage. And Greyson doubted the retired reaper would trust any of these machines to such plebian accommodations.
He glanced at the door. Then his watch.
By the time Kora came to open it, nearly ten minutes had gone by. She either hadn’t been up or had decided to make him wait.
He forgot all about complaining when he saw her. She looked…different. Maybe because she wasn’t wearing black leather for a change. Instead, she was in gently distressed jeans, a white T-shirt, and a pale pink leather jacket, which while still leather, was a far cry from the dominatrix stuff she normally favored. Even her makeup was softer and more natural.
She could have been the girl next door. The incredibly beautiful girl next door, but still. The change was remarkable. “Wow.”
“What?” she asked.
“You look different. That’s all.” He couldn’t stop staring. Was she really wearing lip gloss? And why was he noticing that?
She didn’t move out of the way to let him in. “Different good or different bad?”
So they were going to do this. “Different good. Softer. Less like a vampire. More like a lady who lunches.”
She frowned. “Great.” She stepped back, letting him in. “I’m trying to be more approachable.”
“A more approachable vampire. Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” He wasn’t kidding either. A more approachable Kora could only lead to those who approached her getting spanked. Metaphorically speaking.
“Mémé said my look probably scared people. That it was all right for the club, but for everyday life, I should lighten up.”
“She said ‘lighten up’?”
“She did.”
“W
ell, for what it’s worth, I like it.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, but only for a second. Maybe she’d been hoping for a bigger reaction?
He didn’t know what else to say. If she were his girlfriend, which was a weird thing to even think, he would have elaborated. As it was, they were barely friends. “You ready to go, then?”
She sighed. “Yeah.”
“Listen, I like it. I really do. You look nice. I’m just not used to it. It’s like a shark wearing a bow tie. Kind of makes you forget you’re dealing with an apex predator.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re just full of compliments.”
“Hey, I get what you’re going for, and I approve.”
“Like I care about your approval.”
And there was the Kora he knew.
She walked away from him into the house. “I have to feed Waffles, then I’m ready.”
Greyson followed her. “Where is my boy? I bet he missed me.”
He could have sworn he heard Kora growl softly under her breath. He grinned. She was too easy a target. He really should lay off. But why, when it was so much fun to spin her up?
In the kitchen, Kora pulled the top off a can of food and tipped it into a bowl. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
Waffles came running into the room so fast he skidded halfway across the tile.
Greyson almost laughed at the scene. Kora was wearing pink and had a cat. He was living in opposite world.
Except nothing else about Kora was different. She still had a mouth on her. Still excelled at getting herself into trouble.
Still was as beautiful as ever.
He took a few steps toward the door. “Maybe I should wait outside.”
“I’m ready.” She grabbed a small handbag off the counter and slipped the long strap over her head, adjusting it to hang across her body. “I take it you’re driving?”
“Yes.”
They left the house together, walking out into the space that was more dream-car museum than garage.
In the midst of so many expensive, imported machines, Greyson’s Camaro still held its own. At least in his mind. American muscle cars were a class unto themselves and a very different animal than the high-end European sports cars. Didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate all the horsepower around him, but he didn’t have any real envy either.
The Vampire’s Priceless Treasure Page 5