by Alyssa Day
“I know you will. I will, too. Now I’m going to go dance. Why don’t you go have a drink?”
“I do not drink when—” He followed the direction of her gaze and saw Grace at the bar, pouring drinks. “I believe I will go have a drink, while you dance with a vampire.”
“Get one for me, too, will you? I think I’m going to need it,” she said grimly before pasting onto her face the somewhat vacant smile he thought of as her disguise.
Brennan took another long, calming breath before he headed toward the bar. Grace might have news. Important news. Anything to distract him from the thought of Tiernan dancing with a vampire.
Tiernan sauntered through the crowd, offering a smile here and a flirtatious look there, trying not to hear the conversations between individuals because it was distracting. Too much posturing, deception, and outright lying had stretched her nerves so taut that she felt like she might snap, especially on top of the effort it took to maintain an illusion of lighthearted calm for Brennan’s sake. She felt the weight of his gaze on her even now, and hoped Grace made whatever drink she gave him a double. She didn’t chance a look at him, because he was so gorgeous in that tux that she’d been happy just not to drool on him or fall into his arms like some swooning maiden from one of the various centuries he’d lived through. He was an unbelievably sexy man, and that hint of danger just added to his appeal.
Leashed power in evening clothes.
The conversations filtered through to her as she passed various knots of people standing in twos and threes. It wasn’t like she could put her fingers in her ears, no matter how much she might want to avoid hearing the lies, so she gritted her teeth and smiled through the pain of nerves scraped raw.
So many lies.
“—and then he said my paper was the best he’d read in years, and sure to be published.”
Lie.
“My wife and I have a very open marriage—”
Lie. Big lie.
“Litton is a genius, but he’s a crackpot, if you ask me. I heard—”
Ah. Truth at last. So the good doctor had a reputation even among his peers. Wonder what they’d think of him if they knew he was secretly funded by vampires and working toward the enslavement of humanity?
Stranger and stranger when truth sounded more like the plot to a comic book, but that was life these days. Everybody plotting to take over the damn world; nobody content just to let people live.
People, and their friends, and their friends’ babies.
When the second person in a row gave her a strange look, she realized she was letting too much of what she was thinking show on her face, and she paused to pretend to search for something in her purse to gain a little time to compose herself.
A wave of cold lifted the hair on the back of her neck a moment before a deep voice spoke near her ear. “May I assist you with anything?”
The voice sounded so familiar, but when she looked up into the vampire’s pale face, half-hidden by oversized wraparound shades, she realized she had no way to know why. Unless, of course, she asked him. Sometimes a direct approach was best, as one of her journalism profs had been fond of reminding them.
“Tracy Baum, Neuroscience Quarterly. Did we meet earlier tonight?”
A seductive smile played around the edges of his sculpted lips. She was suddenly glad of his glasses, which protected her from falling into thrall from his eyes. His black hair brushed his shoulders, and he was tall and very well built, filling out his black-on-black tux in a way that had quite a few women nearby checking him out. The vamp who’d grabbed her earlier had been tall and strong, too, but that wasn’t enough evidence to convince her that this was he.
“I’m afraid not. I would remember meeting such a lovely woman, Ms. Baum.” He bowed. “But I would be happy to correct that oversight. Will you dance?”
It was just what she’d wanted, a dance with a vampire. But still she hesitated. Something about this vampire made her even more wary than usual.
He held out his hand and his smile turned mocking. “Surely you’re not afraid of me?”
Even recognizing it for the challenge it was, she couldn’t resist. “Of course not. I’d love to dance.”
As he took her hand and led her to the dance floor, she glanced back to be sure Brennan was holding on to his calm, and was instantly sorry she’d done so. He was staring at her, his face hard, and even across the expanse of floor and the crowd that separated them, she could almost feel him straining toward her. If she made it through the dance with this vampire, it would be a miracle.
She offered up a silent prayer for miracles.
“You know my name, but you haven’t told me yours,” she said, smiling up at the distorted reflection of herself in the vampire’s glasses.
He pulled her into his arms for the dance, a slow song that bemoaned love lost and loneliness. “My apologies, Ms. Baum. My name is Devon.”
“Call me Tracy, please,” she said automatically, her mind whirling with possibilities. Curiouser and curiouser. If this were Devon, and he really had been the vamp outside, regardless of what he would or would not admit to . . . well.
This dance suddenly had real possibilities.
Chapter 11
“So,” Tiernan said, noting for future reference that vampires felt very, very cold, even through formal wear, “nice car.”
Devon laughed. “You like it?”
“What’s not to like? The Gallardo LP560-4 is not exactly your mother’s Buick.” She realized what she’d said and inwardly groaned. “Not that you had a—”
“Mother?”
“Buick. I’m figuring you more for the mother with a carriage, or four slaves that pulled the chariot, perhaps.”
He laughed again, but this time it sounded like he was truly amused, not just being polite. Then he pulled her into a twirl and caught her at exactly the right moment. The vampire was quite a good dancer, she was chagrined to admit.
“Not very many women could recognize that car. Are you a car enthusiast or simply a very good reporter?”
She saw no reason to lie. “Both.”
“I see. Then I must reward you by telling you that, in fact, my mother owned a single mule, but it was for use in farming only. She walked everywhere she needed to go, which was not very far, since she lived her entire life without venturing from the five-mile radius of her farm.” His voice had grown softer as he spoke, making her wish yet again that she could see his eyes. Her truth-telling senses weren’t rattling, but she’d never had very good results with vampires, so that wasn’t really meaningful. “I would ask that you keep that information to yourself, as the power infrastructure of the vampire ruling class prefers to adhere to the polite fiction that we were all born and raised aristocracy, if not royalty.”
“Off the record?”
He smiled down at her and Tiernan stumbled, shock knocking her off her rhythm. There had been real warmth in that smile. He caught her with his strong, cold hands and stopped until she caught her balance.
“Are you well?”
“Yes, fine, sorry. Stupid shoes,” she said lightly, holding out one foot for him to see. When he looked down at her foot and leg, and then his gaze slowly traveled back up her body, she had to catch her breath. This man—this vampire—was a deadly predator, who had probably been outwitting humans for centuries, if not longer.
She was maybe just the slightest bit out of her league.
“You are very lovely, Tracy Baum,” he said, leaning closer and inhaling deeply. “Your scent is intoxicating, leading me to wonder if your blood might be the same. Perhaps it is time we concluded our dance, unless you would consent to accompany me to my home?”
Thoughts of an inside scoop flashed through her mind, but she hadn’t lived as long as she had by climbing into the cage with hungry lions. “Thank you, but no. My date is at the bar, and I really should get back to him.”
Devon glanced over in the direction of the bar. “Ah, yes. The reclusive and very rich Mr. B
rennan. I am surprised he let you out of his grip for even a moment.”
“He doesn’t control me, no matter how rich he might be. We’re just”—she paused, stumped for a term, and finally settled on the ordinary—“friends.”
“Because men, no matter how powerful, no longer control their women, is that right? This conversation echoes another I have had recently, but of course when you have lived as many lives as I have, there is little of originality to be seen, done, or spoken.”
She stopped and stepped out of his loose embrace, searching his face. “I’m sorry. That sounds like a terrible way to live. Are you never surprised?”
He lifted a hand and touched her shoulder; it was almost a caress. “I am rarely surprised. Tonight, however, is the exception. I am very surprised by you. Please do say hello to Brennan for me.”
Before she could think of a reply, he bowed, turned, and disappeared into the crowd. She stared after him for a minute, but then a pair of already-familiar arms encircled her waist from behind and she closed her eyes and leaned back against the warmth of Brennan’s muscular chest.
“That was odd,” she said. “There is something so different about that vampire. I really want to investigate him further.”
“I believe he feels the same way about you,” Brennan said, his voice harsh. “I am sorry, but I could not spend another moment watching you in his arms.”
She turned around and gave him a quick hug, sensing how badly he needed the physical contact. “Dance with me. And then we need to talk.”
Brennan finally relaxed as Tiernan moved gracefully into his arms. Though he knew the curse to be partially the cause, he could not help a bone-deep relief, as if part of his heart had returned to his body. They moved to the music as one; she easily followed his lead, and they were like partners who had danced through centuries together.
She fit. She was perfect for him in every way.
The feeling was impossible and he knew better than to trust it. Love could not come so fast, though attraction and desire flew on swift wings. This was the curse prodding along the pace of what must have already lain dormant in his heart. One of many lessons pounded into the thick skulls of younglings during training was that no god or goddess, no love potion or spell, no sorcerer or even the most powerful witch could compel love. So indeed his feelings for her were genuine and would only grow deeper if he were to spend more time with her. The curse could not have recognized Tiernan as his true mate otherwise.
How, though, could he ever deserve this woman when he—and, equally or more important, she—would always question the legitimacy of his feelings for her? He tightened his hold on her and she leaned her face against his chest, so that the uniquely lovely scent of her hair once again filled his senses.
Lost. He was utterly and completely lost.
Brennan. Brennan! Are you awake in there? Alexios’s impatience rang through the mental pathway.
Brennan tilted his head toward the far wall of the dance floor, and Tiernan instantly began moving that way. I am here. What have you discovered?
There’s a very heavy vamp presence in the guards. Way more than one would expect for guarding a bunch of science geniuses. They’re either expecting trouble or they’re planning to cause some.
Brennan and Tiernan stopped dancing at the edge of the dance floor and walked toward an empty corner. “Alexios,” he said to answer the question in her eyes.
She nodded but said nothing, waiting.
I would guess the heavy guard is planned for me, at the very least. Can’t allow the rich benefactor to escape, after all.
Alexios was silent for so long that Brennan thought he’d cut off communication, but then he sent another message.
You’d be exactly right. We’ve just been shown pictures of you and Tiernan, although they call her Tracy, so at least her cover isn’t blown. You’ll be honored to know you’re both high priority, not to be let out of our sight. Force strongly discouraged, but allowed if you prove difficult.
Brennan’s primal warrior’s instincts kicked into overdrive, and he only realized he’d clenched his hands into fists around imaginary daggers when Tiernan took one of his hands and gently unpeeled his fingers.
Difficult? I will kill them if they try to touch her, he told Alexios. I will peel their skin from their bodies and hang their internal organs in the sun to burn. Yes, that could be difficult for them.
Colorful. I’m in. Talk later. Watch Grace for me.
With that, Alexios cut off the connection, but not before Brennan sensed an impending threat. Alexios and Lucas were facing something big and possibly very, very bad. He needed to get out there and help.
“Alexios is in danger,” he murmured in Tiernan’s ear. “I need to go to his aid.”
“Did he ask for help?”
“No, but—”
“I understand you need to help your friend,” she said, so quietly it was nearly subvocal. “But we’re being watched very closely, and I’m not sure how you can get out of here without being extremely noticeable.” She cut a glance toward the podium under the sweep of her long, dark lashes, and he pulled her into a hug, using the action as cover to glance where she’d indicated.
It was Litton, of course. Staring at them and not bothering to hide his scrutiny.
“The good doctor is being just a little too overt for a scientist planning to grovel for money,” Tiernan murmured. “Makes me think Plan B is to kill you or try to enthrall you and keep your money, too.”
“After all, if they go along with my plans, they get ten million,” Brennan said. “If they make me a mind slave, they get it all.”
“How much are you supposed to be worth?”
Brennan shrugged, more interested in the delicate curve of her ear than in talk of money. “I don’t pay very close attention. When our former king insisted we work with human banks and investments, I began to do so. I would imagine I am at an even dozen or so by now.”
Tiernan blinked. “A dozen what? Atlantean dollars? Starfish? What do you even use for currency?”
He smiled down at her. “No, we do not use currency in Atlantis. We have no need. My funds are concentrated in American dollars, although I have considerable overseas investments, of course.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “So you’re telling me you have twelve million dollars? For real?”
“Of course not.”
Tiernan laughed and blew out a big sigh. “Whew. I was really going to have a problem hanging out with you since you’re so much older and if you were a millionaire, too. It’s not like I’m the sugar-daddy type.”
He searched his memory for the term, but could not find it. “I don’t know what ‘sugar daddy’ means, but I do not have twelve million dollars. I have approximately twelve billion dollars. Should we get another drink? I need to get word to Grace.”
He started toward the bar, but halted when he realized she was no longer with him. He pivoted on his heel, ready to protect her from any danger, but she was safe. Safe, but standing exactly where he’d left her, with a very odd look on her face. He returned to her side, concerned that she might be ill or—if it were even possible for one with her amazing courage—finally afraid.
“Tiernan?”
“Twelve billion dollars? Are you joking?”
He studied her face, trying to decide what the best response would be. As always, he settled for the simplest. “I rarely joke. Without emotions, there has been no way for me to judge the comic potential of most humor.”
She blinked. “You rarely joke. Twelve. Billion. Dollars.”
A delightful notion struck him, and he laughed out loud. “This is no longer a problem. I can make jokes anytime I want. I can joke with Ven.”
Tiernan, who had met Ven, raised a single eyebrow. “You might want to start smaller. Ven is more your world-class comedian.”
“Shall we go and talk to Grace?”
“Sure, lead away, Mr. Twelve Billion,” she said, still in
that stunned tone.
Before starting back across the floor, he related what Alexios had told him. “If this gets any more dangerous, you are out of this mission,” he said flatly. “No arguments.”
Something sparked in her eyes, and the stunned look vanished from her face as if it had never been there. “Wrong. You’d better believe there will be arguments. There is no way I’m going anywhere. If they’re worried about us escaping, that means we’re on the right track. Now all we have to do is play along, find out what we can, and break the story so the bad guys go to jail.”
Brennan shook his head. “Unfortunately, it is never, ever that easy when it comes to vampires.”
She grinned. “I know. So you need me. I’m your backup.”
With that, she grabbed his hand and headed toward the bar, leaving him no choice but to follow.
“My backup,” he repeated, wondering if a nonstop tsunami of emotions could shatter a man’s mind—or if Tiernan could do that all by herself.
Alexios picked that moment to communicate with him again.
We’ve got more trouble. Lucas has to go back to Pack headquarters, there was another attack there, and he’s afraid for Honey and the babies. I’m going with him. This is his family in danger, and he might need an extra pair of daggers.
Do you need me? Brennan sent back. For Lucas and his family, he would find a way to escape Litton’s watchdogs.
No. You need to stay there and see what in the nine hells is going on. I don’t want to leave Grace alone, either. Not to mention Tiernan is human, and she’s a target, too. Humans break easily.
Brennan’s fury flashed into a towering rage at the thought.
They would have to get past me first.
Meet us at Lucas’s HQ after the party, if you can get away. Otherwise, we’ll find a way to come to you.
Brennan agreed and shut down the line of communication. Tiernan tugged on his arm and then pulled his face down and kissed his cheek. “Did you see that? Litton’s weasel of an assistant just rushed in here looking totally freaked-out. Something is definitely going on.”