The Vampire's Accidental Wife (Nocturne Falls Book 8)

by Kristen Painter

  The couple at the far end of the bar seemed utterly bored with each other. Maybe a first date that wasn’t working out?

  The five or so women grouped around one of the high tables were celebrating something. A birthday perhaps, since no one was wearing anything that might indicate she was a bride to be, but they all had drinks and were doing a lot of laughing.

  There were men and women who were clearly on the prowl, some who looked like they were here to drink, a few more who’d yet to leave the dance floor.

  But the area that interested Desi the most was the VIP section. Soft, billowy curtains sectioned the raised area off, but all of the curtains were drawn back. After all, what was the point of being a VIP if no one could see you?

  Smoked mirrors covered the back walls of that area, reminding her of a small club in Vegas she’d once frequented. A place called Club Ninety-Six. They were known for their exclusivity and celebrity clientele. Until it was revealed that their mirrored walls were actually two-way and the owner of the club had been videotaping—and attempting to blackmail—the stars who went there.

  Made her wonder about Insomnia. And who owned it.

  “Miss Clarke?”

  Desi turned to see Elmira had returned. “Yes?”

  “I confirmed with Chet.” She smiled broadly. “I put your drink on Mr. Ellingham’s account.”

  “Excellent.” She drained the last of her champagne. “And just in time for round two.”

  Elmira nodded and picked up the empty flute. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The soft female voice came from behind Desi. She turned to see who it belonged to. A pretty redhead stood there. And behind the pretty redhead stood a serious-looking man with dark hair and piercing black eyes that even his glasses couldn’t hide. He was frowning. She was smiling.

  They didn’t look very stalkery, so Desi couldn’t imagine what this was about. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” the redhead said. “But aren’t you Desdemona Valentine?”

  Desi hadn’t expected to be recognized. Not here and not in her wig. She studied them a little closer as a new sense of panic rose up in her. The woman had a guileless smile and the man just looked bored. More importantly, Desi’s gut said they were just fans. Or at least the woman was. And Desi wasn’t one to disappoint her fans. Not with the television special coming up. She put on her best photo-op smile. “I am.”

  The woman nudged the man. “See, I told you.”

  Desi laughed. “I must say, I am very surprised to be recognized.”

  The man leaned forward. “And you probably want to be left alone. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No bother.” She stuck her hand out. “You have me at a disadvantage, I’m afraid.”

  His frown stuck firm, but he shook her hand. “Cole Van Zant. And this is my fiancée, Pandora Williams.”

  “I saw you in Vegas,” Pandora chimed in. “Well, I didn’t see your show. I saw your billboards. And my friend lives in the same building as you.”

  “Your friend?” Desi held on to her smile, but small cracks were forming in her confidence. Being recognized was one thing, having someone know where she lived was another. Especially when she didn’t know who was after her. “What’s her name?”

  “He’s a he. Ivan Tsvetkov. He’s an MMA fighter. Well, he was. He’s retired now.”

  Desi shook her head. “I don’t know him, sorry.” She wasn’t much for socializing outside of her very small group of friends. Her trust issues ran deeper than those that came with being famous. Another one of Alonso’s little gifts.

  “Well, it’s no big deal,” Pandora said. “Like I said, he’s retired now. He lives here in Nocturne Falls with his fiancée. Oh!” Her expression brightened. “His fiancée’s from Vegas too. Monalisa Devlin. Do you know her?”

  Behind her, Cole shook his head. “Pandora, Las Vegas is a big city filled with thousands of people Miss Valentine doesn’t know.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Pandora shrugged. “I just thought maybe…you know.”

  But Desi was too shocked to answer. Monalisa Devlin was a name she recognized. Because Monalisa’s father, Padraig Devlin, was a very powerful, very dangerous man. If there was a supernatural in Las Vegas who didn’t know who he was, it was only because they hadn’t been there very long.

  He controlled a lot of what went on in Vegas, at least when it came to all things supernatural.

  Desi found her voice. “Monalisa is engaged to an MMA fighter? How on earth did her father allow that?”

  “Well,” Pandora said. “It happened like this…”

  Quarter after midnight. Julian had never gotten home so quickly after a shift, but then, he hadn’t stopped at Howler’s for a drink and hadn’t met up with any eligible young ladies in a bid to keep his playboy reputation firmly in place.

  No, tonight it was straight home to the little wife. He grinned. Was that what married life was like? Even if Desi wasn’t interested in playing house, it amused him.

  Greyson Garrett, one of the vampires in town who also worked at the VOD job, called as Julian was walking through the lobby of the Excelsior. He gave Lou a nod as he answered the phone. “Greyson, what can I do for you?”

  “I might be a little late tomorrow night. I’ll do my best not to be, but Lucien needs me for an errand.”

  Julian walked onto the penthouse lift. “No worries. Is the old man all right?” Lucien was one of the most elusive and mysterious residents of Nocturne Falls. No one knew much about him, but Julian had been instrumental in helping the retired reaper settle here. He’d also helped the man set up Insomnia. They’d even brainstormed the name together. It was meant to be ironic seeing as how Lucien’s former job was about permanent sleep.

  “He’s…” Greyson sighed. “Lucien.”

  “Understood. Take whatever time you need.” The lift stopped and the doors opened.

  “Much appreciated.”

  Julian hung up, walked through the foyer and into his apartment. “Honey, I’m home.”

  He laughed despite knowing Desi wouldn’t be responding with the same sort of enthusiasm. Life was pointless if you couldn’t enjoy yourself, and he refused to be completely destroyed by her rejection. At least not in front of her. He could save that for after she went back to Las Vegas.

  “Join me in a drink?” he called out as he went to the bar to pour himself a bourbon. She still hadn’t responded by the time he’d swallowed the first sip. It wasn’t like her to ignore him completely.

  He left the glass on the counter and went in search of her. Maybe she was on the phone with Sam. Or maybe she’d fallen asleep. Most daysleepers kept to a pretty rigid schedule, but she’d been through a lot. If she’d crashed, he’d let her be, even if it might potentially throw off her routine.

  Her bedroom was dark. He peeked in and whispered, “Desi?”

  But he didn’t need vampire vision to see she wasn’t there.

  He scoured the rest of the penthouse without finding her. Just the scent of her perfume. Concern took hold of him. He picked up the phone and dialed the front desk.

  Lou answered on the first ring. “Evening, Mr. Ellingham. How can I—”

  “Did Miss Clarke come home?”

  “Yes, but then she went out again. That’s the last time I saw her.”

  The concern turned into something darker. She’d left a second time. Alone. He closed his eyes and tried not to let anger take over. “Do you have any idea where she went?”

  “Absolutely. Insomnia. She said you’d told her to go there since you were working. I called her a Ryde.”

  He swore under his breath. “Thank you.” Then hung up. She must still be there. He was going after her, but he was not about to stroll into that club looking like this. He ditched the jewelry, scrubbed the eyeliner off, then changed quickly into a white shirt and charcoal suit.

  He was in his Maserati and headed to Insomnia ten minutes later. Lou had looked a
little worried as Julian had walked out, but he didn’t have time to explain to Lou what was going on or to give him a crash course in everything he needed to know about Desi.

  Not even Julian knew everything he needed to about her. But one thing was for sure: her decision to go out without him when someone might be trying to kill her wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had.

  On the drive over, he did what he could to talk himself down. He was angry. And worried. There wasn’t much to be done about that. But he tried to see things from her side. She thought she was safe in Nocturne Falls, which she probably was, but until they knew more, there was no guarantee.

  She was used to a fast-paced life lived primarily in the spotlight of fame. He understood that too. He’d lived it with her when he’d been in Vegas. It was nothing for her to head out after a show and spend the rest of the evening being adored and fawned over in the VIP section of whatever club she chose.

  She was Las Vegas royalty. And she was treated as such wherever she went. No doubt a quiet evening home alone wasn’t up to her entertainment standards.

  He cooled down a little. She’d probably stayed home as long as she’d been able, but he could imagine what too much thinking had done to her. Probably spun her up. And without him there to calm her down…she’d needed an out.

  So that’s exactly what she’d done. Left to find a situation she was familiar with. Insomnia made perfect sense.

  The anger mellowed into frustration, but the concern remained as he parked. He had to take better care of her. He never should have gone to work, regardless of what his brothers would have thought. He shook his head. No more being VOD while she was here. Hugh and Sebastian would just have to get over it. Between Greyson and some of the other vamps who subbed in, he’d get the shifts handled and that would be that.

  Maybe Remy Lafitte could cover a few. The deputy might be too busy working for the sheriff’s department, but it never hurt to ask.

  Julian strode into Caldwell Manufacturing like he owned the place. He didn’t, but he spent enough time here. “Evening, Chet. Elevator, please.”

  The bear-shifter nodded and hit the call button. “Yes, sir.” He stood at attention. “How are you this evening?”

  “Good. Soon to be better. I hope.”

  Chet smiled. “Meeting up with your lady friend?”

  That implied she was still in the club. That was good. “You saw her?”

  Chet nodded as the elevator opened. “I did. Very pretty. Nice too.”

  Julian snorted and walked on, then pushed the Basement button. “Just don’t marry her,” he muttered as the doors closed.

  “What was that?” Chet called out.

  But Julian was already on his way down. When the doors opened, he strode out, scanning the club for her. It didn’t take long to find her.

  In true Desdemona Valentine style, she was enthroned in the VIP section with a squad of people around her and plenty of ice-filled buckets holding her favorite champagne within easy reach. She was on full display to the rest of the club. An easy target.

  Irritation blocked the edges of his vision, allowing him to see only her. She was as vulnerable as a newborn rabbit in an open field. He climbed the steps to the VIP lounge.

  The party was in full swing and the crowd around her included a good number of people he recognized, Pandora Williams and her fiancé Cole Van Zant among them. He took some comfort in that.

  Desi was mid-story when she caught sight of him. Her animated gestures stilled, and she let out a happy shriek. “Julian!”

  “Desdemona.” He nodded and smiled, even though that was the last facial expression he felt like making.

  Pandora waved. “Hi Julian.”

  “Pandora.” He raised his brows at Desi. “Could we have a word? Privately?”

  She smiled coyly. “Of course, darling.” She stood. “If you would all excuse me…” She walked around the cocktail table to stand in front of him.

  He took her elbow and led her off to a spot in the reserved lounge that was vacant. His anger was back, and there wasn’t time to talk himself out of it. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Her eyes rounded.

  He’d never spoken to her like that. Regret filled him instantly. He sighed. “I’m sorry, Desi. That came out wrong.”

  She crossed her arms. “I’ll say.”

  “I got concerned when I came home and you weren’t there. Especially since we have no idea who’s been harassing you. Then I walk in here and you’re holding court like the Queen of Versailles and all I can think about is what a vulnerable position you’ve put yourself in.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d gone too long with too little sleep.

  “I’m not vulnerable. I’m in a supes-only club.” She lifted her chin. “It’s not like just anybody can walk in here. No one knows me in this town anyway. Except for Pandora, but she only recognized me because she was in Vegas recently.”

  “And you just proved my point. If she recognized you, who else might?” The irritation came back. “And can I remind you that we still don’t know if your stalker is supernatural or human?”

  She almost rolled her eyes, but caught herself as if thinking better of it. “Pandora being in Vegas was a random thing. A one off.”

  “And yet the number of people who know you’re here has now grown by leaps and bounds since you invited everyone in the club to join you for champagne in the VIP lounge.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not everyone.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, you’re right. The DJ is still in his booth.”

  She gave him a smug smile. “I don’t think I’m in any danger here, even with all these new friends I’ve made.” She shrugged. “Look, I might have overreacted. Maybe Sam’s hit and run was just that—a hit and run. And maybe the rest of it was just what I thought—overzealous, creepy fans.”

  “So you’re ready to go back to Vegas?”

  “I’m—” She glanced down. “Hold that thought. My phone’s buzzing.” She pulled it out of the little black bag at her hip and checked the screen.

  Her expression went blank. Then slightly horrified.

  “What is it?” His phone was buzzing too. He pulled it free from his jacket pocket.

  She glanced up at him. “Sam. She just got flowers and—”

  “Hang on.” The screen showed Harlan calling. “I need to take this. It’s Harlan.”

  Desi nodded, clutching her phone to her body like it might try to get away.

  Julian answered. “What’s going on?”

  “Sam just got a flower delivery. Black roses. And the card says, ‘Next time, I’ll finish the job.’ She’s pretty shaken up.”

  Julian breathed out a curse. “I’m sure. Did you see who delivered them?”

  “A woman from Desert Blooms. It’s a local place, completely on the up and up. And she didn’t know anything about the order other than it was part of her hospital delivery.”

  “Can you dig deeper? See if they’ll give up whoever placed the order?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Protecting Sam comes first.”

  “Understood.”

  Julian hung up. All of Desi’s bravado was gone. “I guess you know what the message on the flowers said.”

  She nodded, the wind very much out of her sails. “I don’t feel so safe anymore.”

  Desi sat cross-legged on her bed, wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized tee she usually reserved for spa days. Her wig was off, the French braid that had been restraining her natural hair undone, and her face scrubbed clean. She stared blankly at the wall. Her mind was on Sam. And whoever was tormenting her.

  Julian walked in with a steaming mug in his hands and held it out to her. “Here. Drink this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Tea. Specifically, my grandmother’s proprietary blend that she has shipped in from the UK. She thinks it cures everything. I disagree, but I thought it might help.”

  “T
hanks.” She took it and cupped the mug between her hands. The heat felt good.

  He stood at the foot of the bed. “You okay?”

  She shook her head, then sighed. “I’m worried about Sam.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “I’m also freaked out about everything else. I almost had myself convinced it was all in my head. That I was being paranoid.”

  “That note proves you’re not.”

  She glanced up. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for doing such a dumb thing tonight. I just…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  He took a seat in the chair across from her. “You don’t need to explain or apologize. And Sam’s in good hands.”

  She sipped the tea. It was good. And deliciously sweet, like he’d added a big dollop of honey. The warmth traveled through her, making her feel comforted and cared for. Just like Julian. He was such a good man. “If you say she is, then I believe you.”

  “Good.” He’d changed into loose, black cotton pants and a matching T-shirt. He looked like an ad for designer lounge wear. Sexy and sophisticated without trying. Of course, he’d looked hot in his suit, too. “You up to talking?”

  “About what’s going on?” She nodded. “I can’t stop thinking about it, so why not?”

  “Okay.” He steepled his fingers on the arms of the chair. “Any thoughts on who might be behind all this?”

  “Not immediately. And I’ve done a lot of thinking about it, trust me.”

  “Who are your enemies?”

  “I…I don’t know.” She frowned into the tea. “I always thought people liked me.”

  “And they do. They adore you. But clearly someone doesn’t.” He thought for a moment. “How have the negotiations with the studio been for the television deal?”

  “Good. And done. There was compromise on both sides, and ultimately, I’m very happy with the final deal, as is my attorney.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine anyone on their side would want to do anything like this to me.”