by Ally Shields
* * *
Ari knew Rita’s story might be another example of the paranoia sweeping the Otherworld community, but she alerted Martin and Steffan to the rumors. They’d heard nothing but agreed to ask their usual sources.
Ari nosed around Olde Town for two days on her own, talking with barkeeps, listening to chatter. She haunted the public vampire hangouts. Ari kept her questions casual, answers vague, not wanting to add fuel to new or existing rumors. She put out the story that she had important information for Gordon, that she wanted to speak to him or anyone who could deliver a message to him. She hoped she’d turn up a nest mate, but no one responded. It had been a long shot; the vampires rarely volunteered to talk with authorities. She didn’t have the option of knocking on his door. Even if Gordon had a door, she’d never find the vampire’s hidden base on her own. Besides, even she wasn’t reckless enough to enter a private vamp nest alone.
By the third unsuccessful afternoon, she admitted she needed help. Vampire help. And this was beyond Rita’s pay grade. Ari swallowed her pride or her fears, whichever was dominant at the moment, and called the club. Andreas was her best bet. He had a vested interest in any outcome that might produce Marcus.
The woman who answered the phone said she’d have to see if Andreas was around. Ari gave her name and waited to see what he would do. He didn’t leave her dangling for long. Within seconds, the voice returned stating he wasn’t available.
Ari considered her response and left a message. “Tell him I have news of Marcus.” She wasn’t above using bait.
Five minutes later, her cell rang.
“You told me you knew nothing about Marcus,” he said without preamble. He was annoyed. Even annoyed, his voice sounded good.
“That was then,” Ari said, nerves making her flippant, “this is now.”
“Do you actually know anything useful?” he asked, his tone impatient, suspicious.
“Yes, but I won’t discuss it on the phone. I want to meet.”
“Why? I believe you told me to stay away from you.”
Hmm, yes, she had. And apparently she’d pricked his male pride. He didn’t intend to be agreeable about this. So, she told him the truth. “Yeah, well, something’s come up. And I want you to hear me out without the option of hanging up.”
He sighed. “Another scheme, madam witch?”
“Information. And a proposition,” she countered.
“Could you possibly be more cryptic?”
“Probably.” A chuckle escaped her. “But I’m not going to tell you anything else until we meet.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” He paused while he seemed to be thinking it over. “Come to the club tonight. We can talk between sets, if that suits you.”
She agreed and hung up. She knew he’d be singing, and she needed more than a few minutes to explain her plan—and a lot of convincing after that—but it was a start. And it couldn’t hurt to put her best foot forward. That would take prep work.
Ari begged and pleaded shamelessly. Claris hated the whole idea. She didn’t want Ari to go to the club alone. Definitely not after a makeover. She put the temptation of vampires in the same category as teasing venomous snakes. Probably a good analogy, but Ari didn’t want to seduce him, just get his attention. They wasted an hour arguing. When Claris realized Ari wouldn’t change her mind, she caved.
Ari lugged seven outfits from her apartment to Claris’s kitchen. Some had never been worn. Most were things that had caught her eye, but the chance to wear them had never come up. Claris tried to reject them all. Too short, too tight, too red, too revealing. In the end, they matched a white, silky blouse with black pants, fitted over the hips and ending in flowing legs. Dressy but not too formal. With the addition of a silver chain belt, matching earrings, and black strappy heels that added four inches, the outfit was complete. Claris objected to the low neckline but admitted the overall look was rather striking.
The controversial decisions made, Claris turned her expertise to hair and makeup. When she stepped back, Ari snatched the mirror and hardly recognized the cascade of loose blonde curls.
“Are you sure?” Ari asked. She’d never tried the curly routine before. Not like this.
“Oh yes.” Claris laughed. “I almost feel sorry for Andreas. How’s he going to say no to that face?”
Ari knew her best friend was biased, but the effect wasn’t bad. She studied her reflection again.
“Do you know what you’re doing, girl?”
She sure hoped so.
Chapter Sixteen
Ari timed her arrival at Club Dintero for late in the evening, nearly 11:00 p.m. She hoped it would allow more time for conversation if the dinner crowd had cleared, but people were still in line at the door. Full house. For a moment she wondered if she’d be turned away. Then the doorman nodded and motioned for her to bypass the line.
As soon as she stepped inside, the magic touched her. The five piece band was good, but Andreas’s voice dominated the candlelit room, holding the rapt attention of nearly 300 silent diners. Ari had barely noticed the audience before an irresistible urge drew her gaze toward the stage. A single spotlight framed Andreas’s commanding figure. Solid black, from the silk scarf knotted at his neck, to the full length Armani suit jacket that fell to his knees, to the black shirt, vest, and pants. Temptation incarnate. His feet were planted apart, confidence and mastery in every line of his body. The haunting melody was in Italian. Even without translation, it captured the mind.
His coal-black eyes found her and silken threads of magic wrapped her in a soft web. The room faded away. She floated as in a dream, warm and safe. A place to linger forever. Her witch magic began to sing in concert with his, and Ari called it back to her. The effort brought her out of his web with a jolt.
Damn, how strong was he? She wrapped her magical aura around her. As long as she kept it in place, his magic was held at bay. Then, mercifully, the song was over. Andreas bowed to a wildly applauding audience and left the stage.
“Good evening.”
Startled, she stared at him. “Uh, hello.” How did he move so fast?
He produced a polite smile. “If you will come this way.” He waved a hand toward a hallway on the left.
Ari hesitated. A meeting in private? She hadn’t anticipated that.
His brows rose. “We have twenty minutes.”
Swallowing her doubts, Ari preceded him down the hall. It was better this way, she told herself. Fewer interruptions. At least she knew her time parameters. He ushered her past four closed doors, not stopping until they reached an exit door at the end. He touched a security panel, the door opened, and they stepped into a paved lane leading to the rear parking lot. Dense trees lined the opposite side of the lane. Total privacy.
The night was pleasantly cool. The crisp cleanness of fall filled the air. Ari hung back and watched her companion as he stopped in the middle of the lane. Andreas arched his shoulders and threw back his head, breathing deeply. For a moment all Ari could think about was how sexy he looked.
“I hope you don’t mind talking out here. It has been a long evening, and I needed the fresh air.”
“Not at all. It’s nice.” She looked up at the stars, pinpoints in an uncluttered sky, to keep from looking at him. “What was that last song you sang?”
“An Italian love song. Did you enjoy it?”
“Amazing.”
He turned to look at her. “It was, or I was?” His voice invited a broader interpretation.
She smiled. “Both,” she said, not bothering to hedge. “But who’s fishing for compliments now?”
“Touché.” His familiar laugh came then, rich and intimate, strangely companionable.
He was so approachable tonight that Ari began to relax. A dangerous frame of mind around a vampire, she thought, but then she hadn’t planned to play it safe tonight. Mindful of the passing time, she began by coming straight to the point. “You haven’t found Marcus.”
“No. And I’ve run
out of places to look.” He arched a brow in query. “Unless you have a suggestion.”
“I’ve heard the wolves have him.”
He was suddenly standing before her, one hand on her arm. “This is true? How did you come by the information?”
Her witch blood sang at his nearness, sending shivers along her spine. “Andreas, you’ve got to quit doing this. Invading my magical defenses.” Ari shook off his hand, and he stepped back. “You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies, making my arms tingle.” She wasn’t frightened, and she’d lied about her magic’s reaction. The singing wasn’t a defense warning, but she didn’t want him to remain so close to her. The greatest danger from him wasn’t physical.
“Sorry, I did not mean to do that,” he said, gliding away to stop next to the building. “Your magic speaks to me.”
She shot him a brief frown, uncertain how to take that. She’d assumed the pull between them was something Andreas was consciously doing. She rubbed her arms. “Just don’t startle me like that.”
He nodded, his eyes unreadable in the darkness next to the building. “Please, tell me about Marcus.”
“I don’t know where he is, not yet. But I’ve got a good lead.” She dropped her hands to keep from rubbing her arms again. Even from this distance, Andreas’s intensity was distracting. She tried to ignore it and went on. “Another young vampire is missing and his nest mates may know what happened.” She repeated her conversation with Rita, including Gordon’s story about Marcus, reminded him of the Canadian wolves’ connection to Angela’s murder, and related her own suspicions about the other violent incidents.
“Molyneux’s pack is involved,” she said. “I know Gordon’s nest mates could help me prove it, if I could find them. I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Why didn’t they come to me with this story?” Andreas asked, running his hands through his hair. “We have lost so much time.”
“Rita says they’re scared. After the attack on Prince Daron, they don’t know who to trust. Or who’s part of the conspiracy.”
His eyes snapped to her face. “They thought I might be aligned against Daron?” He took a deep breath. “Well, there is a lot of suspicion going around. I’ve been plagued by my own.” He bent his gaze on her. “And you, madam witch? Why did you delay so long?”
“You know why. But I’d like to put that behind us. I’ve got an idea to help us both…unless you really believe I’m the enemy.” Ari held her breath. Everything depended on what he said next.
When he didn’t respond right away, her heart sank.
Andreas crossed his arms. “The angry things I have said to you, the accusations, arose from frustration. They were inexcusable. I offer my sincere apology. And, to clear the air, I do not hold you responsible for whatever happened to Marcus.” He hesitated. “Or even the death of Lawrence.”
Surprised, Ari held her breath and waited for him to finish.
He dropped his arms, leaned bonelessly against the white brick wall. His hooded eyes grew even darker in the shadows. “Nevertheless, that does not entirely answer your question. There is a dynamic between us that lends itself to hasty words and misunderstandings. I am a vampire, madam witch, and you obviously are not. Doesn’t that make us natural enemies? Getting beyond that point is not easy.”
Ari paled, numb with shock. Natural enemies. She’d struggled with the concept of friendship with a vampire, but it never occurred to her that Andreas might be just as worried about trusting a witch. She was kind of embarrassed by her self-absorption. She wondered if the problem was insurmountable. She needed his help. Badly. Beyond that, she wanted…what? “I don’t know what to say.”
She watched his long fingers rake through his hair again. He glanced at her, looked away and back again. “You remind me so much of someone I once knew.”
“So, where do we go from here?”
He shrugged, barely perceptible in the dark. “Despite the obvious pitfalls, I find myself unaccountably willing to listen and consider your proposition. If you still want to present it.”
“Do you mean that?” She saw the flash of white teeth from his smile. “Here’s the deal. We both need help. Let’s make this a joint investigation. You know, work together. Share data. As partners.”
Andreas straightened from the wall and burst into laughter. One hand on her hip, she frowned at his less-than-desirable reaction.
“Pardon me,” he said, the moment of amusement wiped from his face. “But this proposal is more outrageous than the last.” His forehead crinkled in mystification. “Whatever gave you this idea?”
Ari struggled with her temper. If they rubbed each other the wrong way, it wasn’t always her fault. He wouldn’t have been her first choice as a colleague, but she needed his access to the vampire community. If not, she’d be tempted to kick his ass about now.
“It makes sense,” she said stiffly. “You want to rescue Marcus. My job is to find out if a crime’s been committed. Working alone, we’ve gotten nowhere.” Encouraged that he hadn’t interrupted or started laughing again, she continued. “The two vamp witnesses need to be interviewed. If you can get me into Gordon’s nest, they’ll talk to me because I’m the Guardian. Not on either side of the rumored conspiracy. We both gain added credibility.”
“Now that I know who to ask, I have the means at my disposal to obtain the information without you.”
“Oh, sure. You could scare them or bully them, and they’d probably tell you,” she said dryly, “if you don’t mind making people more suspicious. Confirming they can’t trust you.”
Andreas's brows drew into a sharp crease. “I did not have torture in mind.” He walked a few steps away, as though considering his options, then turned back. “But you could be right about the reaction to any form of influence right now.” He studied his shoes a moment longer. “What do you intend, if I say no?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I’ll find a way to go alone.”
“They will kill you.”
“I don’t kill easy.”
He laughed harshly. It wasn’t at all pretty this time. “Have you ever been inside a vampire nest?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. Few outsiders survive the experience. The location is a closely guarded secret.”
“I know that, but I’ll find a way.” She wasn’t half as confident as she sounded.
“I think not. Unless I agree to help you.” He slowly shook his head, as if arguing with himself. “You are correct that I very much want to find Marcus. Since you could possibly speed that process, I will take you to the nest. As long as you do exactly as I say.” Spinning on his heels, he headed toward the door. “I am overdue for the last set. If you wish, we can continue the discussion when I finish.”
“That'll be fine.” Ari was dancing mental jigs and ready to agree to almost anything. Until she remembered that unexplainable moment of their magics intertwining when she first arrived tonight. A very dangerous moment. She didn’t intend to spend the rest of the night fighting off his allure. “Uh, wait. When I got here, you knew when I entered the club, right?”
About to punch the security code into the door pad, he gave her a blank face.
“And you turned up the magic?” she persisted.
A corner of his mouth twitched.
“If I stay, you have to promise you’ll tamp it down. Agreed?”
The smile reached his eyes. “Did you not tell me your magic was strong enough to resist vampire…persuasion?”
“Agreed?” Ari repeated. She wasn’t sure her magic would even try to resist if he really turned up the wattage.
“That would seem to give you an unfair advantage. But in the interests of our, ah, partnership, you have my word, on one condition. You too are bound by the same restriction.”
“Me? I don’t understand.”
A frown touched his forehead, then smoothed away. “That is a problem, but nothing to worry about tonight. You still have my promise. For tonight only, madam witch.”
She smiled at him. “I have a name. Have you forgotten it?”
“Arianna.” He let his magic run over her as he reached out and touched a curl below her ear. “Nice hair.”
Ari’s pulse leaped as a shiver from his light touch raced through her. When his eyes dropped to her outfit, she felt her face grow warm.
“In fact, you look delightful. But it was not necessary. All you had to do was ask.” With that cryptic remark, his smile flashed, and he opened the door.
Victor seated her at a table in the back as Andreas slipped behind the stage. Victor’s stiff body language said he wasn’t pleased to see her. Although Ari acknowledged she had a talent for annoying Andreas, she hardly knew Victor. Maybe he was the sensitive type. Didn’t like being accused of murder. When the music started and her new partner began to sing, Ari forgot about the club’s assistant host.
Andreas had a breathtaking voice. Masculine, powerful, and, at times, unexpectedly tender. Even though Andreas kept his promise and didn’t try to breach her defenses, the performance held a richness of sensory experiences, his repertoire a mixture of English and Italian songs.
Ari sipped at a glass of white wine and watched the audience respond to his talent as much as his magic. She developed a quick preference for the songs in his native language, where unimpeded by words her imagination followed the meanderings of his voice. Images of warm, sunny skies, rolling hills, fig trees, and tangled vineyards stretching as far as the eye could see floated through her head. She sighed with regret when the last of the music faded. As the lights came up, she blinked, a sleeper snatched from a fascinating dream.
“You appear far away, young witch.” Andreas stood next to the table, looking down with those laughing eyes.