“You haven’t told anyone else, have you?” he asked.
“Just my aunt.”
“A blood relative? Or is she related to you by marriage only?”
“She’s my mom’s sister.”
“She’s safe then. And your gentleman friend?” Ghost Reverend jutted a chin in Luka’s direction.
“No, I haven’t mentioned anything about it to him. Only my aunt knows.”
“Then he should be safe too.”
“He’s a vampire, if that makes a difference.” I didn’t know whether or not the reverend knew about the existence of supernaturals when he was living, but he sure as heck did now.
Ghost Reverend’s eyes widened like dinner plates, and his hand went to his throat.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, scanning the underbrush for the millionth time.
“The vile creatures who seek the scarab’s power are vampires too. You must tell him nothing. Otherwise he’ll betray you.”
9
Luka
* * *
Glass of scotch in hand, I stood in my study, surrounded by books, wood paneling, and leather. I’d come here to relax and unwind, but it hadn’t worked.
All I could think about was Penelope.
I knocked back the drink in one gulp, enjoying the burning sensation as it went down my throat, then poured myself another.
Our romantic picnic at the falls had been more than a week ago, but we’d barely spoken since. I thought we’d both enjoyed each other’s company immensely—I certainly had—but apparently the feeling hadn’t been mutual. Penelope had been acting as if she no longer wanted anything to do with me.
On the ride home, she barely spoke. I invited her to come back here, wanting to show her the tapestries in the main hall, but she vehemently declined. When I pulled up to her aunt’s house to drop her off, I expected to walk her to the door, but she jumped out and ran inside with barely a backward glance.
I knew she was physically okay—I’d confirmed that with her aunt a few days ago, who’d said her niece was just very busy. But why the radio silence now? We’d talked and texted every day while I’d been away, but not since. I felt a strange void inside. I…I missed her.
“Maybe some other time,” was the last text she’d sent to me. If that wasn’t a change of heart, I didn’t know what was.
I picked up a book from the table, planning to place it back on the shelf, but I threw it across the room instead. It hit the wood paneling with a smack. I had been a fool to let myself fall for another supernatural. They all had secrets. Too many of them.
A moment later, Helen’s face appeared in the doorway. “Everything okay?” she asked, picking up the book from the floor.
“I’m fine,” I grunted. “Leave me alone.”
“You don’t look fine. When was the last time you fed? Do you need me to grab a bag of blood?”
I ground my teeth together and shot her a dark glance. “Can’t a guy be angry without getting the third degree from his sister?”
“Pardon me for being concerned.” She looked hurt as she turned to go.
“Wait.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” She stared at the stack of books piled up on the table. “I take it that whatever’s bothering you doesn’t concern them?”
“It’s...Penelope,” I said. “Since our picnic, I’ve barely talked to her. She won’t take my calls or answer my texts.”
“Did something happen there?”
“No,” I said, running a hand through my hair, not wanting to share the intimate details.
“Did you say something that ticked her off?” Helen asked. “Maybe she’s distancing herself on purpose.”
“That’s the thing. We…we had a good time. Talked about the future. Laughed. And things got…uh…romantic. We had a nice walk back to the car…but on the way home, she was distant and withdrawn. We haven’t talked since.”
Helen pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Could she be scared of you?”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would she be? She knew I was a vampire from the beginning.”
Helen shrugged. “I don’t know, but it sure seems that way to me.”
I wracked my brain, trying to think of what I could have done to have scared her. She hadn’t seen me feed, and I hadn’t flashed any fang. However, she didn’t seem like the type who’d be bothered by that, anyway.
Helen absently thumbed through the pages of the book she’d picked up off the floor. “Have you gone to see her at Charming Yarns?”
“No,” I said quickly, setting my glass down too roughly, causing liquor to slosh over the side.
“Why not? Maybe if the two of you talk face-to-face, you can figure out what’s going on.”
I turned my attention to the remaining books on the table and began to angrily straighten them one by one. “I…I don’t want to pressure her. If she doesn’t want to be with me…. Well, that’s her decision.”
Helen didn’t respond right away. When she did, her voice was soft. “You’re not the baroness, Luka, if that’s what you’re afraid of. You should go to Penelope. Figure out what’s going on.”
At the mention of that woman, I gripped the edge of the table and glared at my sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Helen didn’t back off. “The baroness was psychotic and delusional. Her jealousy and obsession with you was not normal. Even for a vampire.”
I went back to straightening books while Helen just stood there, staying silent.
“Catherine made me,” I said finally. “Her blood flows in me.”
I didn’t want to remember how she’d stalked me night after night, not taking no for an answer. I didn’t want to remember how she’d flown into a jealous rage, killing that sweet girl behind the theater just because she thought we were dating.
I would not let myself do the same thing to Penelope. If she didn’t want to see me, I would let her go.
“So?” Helen said. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
I looked at her defiantly. “When I met Penelope’s old boyfriend, I wanted to hurt him.”
“But you didn’t, did you? There’s a difference between that and murderous, jealous rage.” She set the book on the table in front of me. “Luka, you are nothing like your maker.”
Swirling the amber liquid in the glass, I watched the crystal facets sparkle as they caught the light.
Deep down, I really wanted to believe her.
Penelope
* * *
Aunt Sylvia and I sat on the couch, watching an episode of Secret Shadows, eating popcorn and drinking orange fizzies. I found myself agreeing with Hans. There was too much kissing on this show. It made me think too much about that romantic night at the falls with Luka, and then I missed him more.
“Just because the ones who are after the onyx scarab are vampires, doesn’t mean Luka is involved,” said Aunt Sylvia, her knitting needles click-clacking away. “There are plenty of vampires here who—”
“I didn’t say he was.”
It didn’t surprise me that Aunt Sylvia was defending him. It was Luka who’d first suspected the invisibility curse on the shop. Aunt Sylvia’s yarn business was back to what it had been, thanks to him.
Setting down my crochet project, I put my head in my hands, frustrated that I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t think Luka was involved in any way—how could he be? But the reverend had freaked out when I told him Luka was a vampire, which had rattled me.
Why did he think Luka would betray me? Were vampires more susceptible to being seduced by the scarab’s power?
“There, there, honey,” Aunt Sylvia said, setting aside her knitting and rubbing my back. “You need some answers, don’t you?”
I took a sip of my fizzie. “What I need is for those stupid Others to get their act together and come for the scarab. I’m so sick of being its temporary guardian, I could puke.”
Aunt Sylvia pulle
d another old maid from the popcorn bowl and set it on a napkin with the rest. Her microwave never popped all the kernels.
“I know you can’t share any of this with Tabitha or the other witches, and that’s fine, but maybe you can do some research at the library on your own. You might find something in the supernatural reading room that will shed some light on what’s going on and ease your mind.”
I sighed. “Good idea.”
Aunt Sylvia’s phone rang, so she got up to answer it. I only heard snippets of her conversation, but it sounded like she was arguing with someone. She returned a few minutes later and sat down.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“That was Alice from the Knotty Knitters. She called me an old party pooper because I won’t go to the casino tomorrow night with the girls. She got comped a suite and tickets for an all-male revue show. Apparently, they’re from Australia and are really hot.”
The thought of those ladies at a male strip show featuring men young enough to be their grandchildren had me grinning from ear to ear. “You should go. I can handle the shop by myself.” She started to protest, but I cut her off. “Please. You’ve done so much for me, Aunt Sylvia. I don’t know what I would’ve done these past weeks without you.”
“I don’t know….”
“If you don’t go, you’ll be kicking yourself later, because that’s all the Knotty Knitters will be talking about for weeks.”
“Ha,” Aunt Sylvia said with a roll of her eyes. “Isn’t that the truth. Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind….”
The Knotty Knitters met at the shop the next afternoon. They would’ve left earlier in the day, but one of the ladies watched her grandkids and had to wait till her son came home from work.
“Have fun,” I called out to them from the sidewalk. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Aunt Sylvia waved at me from the backseat as they drove away.
Business was steady all throughout the evening, so by closing time, I was ready to go. After locking up, I slung my knitting bag over my shoulder and headed for the Nocturne Falls library, determined to find some answers and get my life back.
10
Luka
* * *
Although my personal collection of supernatural research material was fairly extensive, the Nocturne Falls library had some books and old tomes that I didn’t. Plus, I welcomed the distraction of the field trip. I needed to get out of my head and immerse myself in work.
The supernaturals-only part of the library was located several floors below the main level and was connected to the rest of the town via the underground tunnel system. Several large chandeliers, dripping with wax, hung from the mahogany-lined ceiling of the circular room. Rows of bookshelves stretched outward like the spokes of a wheel. Two sprites, their wings just a blur, silently flitted around the room, polishing the wood and replacing the candles. The smell of furniture oil, candle wax, and old books was thick in the air.
“I’m sorry, Ernesto,” I said, cupping a hand over my phone and keeping my voice low so as not to disturb anyone, “but Mrs. Christofides was adamant. The piece is not for sale.” I was dealing with yet another uncooperative potential seller.
“What did she say?” he asked. “I want to know everything.” Ernesto had been a good client of mine for years, but a demanding one nevertheless.
“She said that it’s not for sale.” I was trying not to sound too exasperated and failing miserably.
“What?” Ernesto had selective hearing when he wasn’t getting his way.
“It’s not for sale.”
Someone shushed me.
I rose, leaving my books on the table, and strode down an empty row to finish my call.
“If anyone can get her to sell, it’s you,” Ernesto said. “Turn up that vampire charm. She won’t be able to resist.”
Just what Penelope had said before things turned sour. I shoved that night at the falls out of my head.
“You want me to seduce her?” I asked, feigning surprise. Although he wasn’t exactly unscrupulous, the guy did push the envelope sometimes.
“I don’t care how you do it,” he said. “Just get me that piece. Price, as you know, is not an issue.”
Ever since the supernatural art world had learned that one of Da Vinci’s star pupils had been a shapeshifter (scholars couldn’t agree on whether he’d been a wolf, coyote, or fox), collectors like Ernesto had been clamoring to acquire his work. Needless to say, patience wasn’t one of his virtues.
“Let me see what—”
Ernesto took that slight opening and pounced. “I knew I could count on you!” Before I could tell him I wasn’t making him any promises, he hung up.
As I turned to head back to my table, voices from the next row over stopped me in my tracks. I was fairly certain that one of them was Tabitha, the Nocturne Falls librarian. But the other one sounded an awful lot like…Penelope?
“It's...a...for an online class I'm taking,” Penelope was saying.
“Let me see if I can find it,” Tabitha said.
I could hear her running a finger along the book spines as she presumably examined the call numbers. It sounded as though they had stopped directly across from me.
“It should be right here.”
Then a space opened up at eye level as she pulled out several books, causing several others to tilt. Because there weren't any books on my side of the shelf right here, I could see all the way into their row.
Glasses perched on the top of her head, Penelope was looking right at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes of hers, and my cold, undead heart lurched. She wore a red T-shirt dress and a gray knit scarf. A jean jacket was slung over that ever-present knitting bag of hers.
“Goodness, Luka,” Tabitha said, her hands jerking up defensively then smoothing her hair as if she’d meant to do that. “You gave us a fright.”
“Hello, Penelope. Tabitha. My sincerest apologies. I came to the stacks to take a call. Then the books parted, and there you were.”
“Nice to see you again,” Penelope said in carefully measured tones.
Tabitha frowned, her gaze bouncing between Penelope and me. “You two know each other?”
“We met at a...wine event a few weeks ago,” Penelope said, now staring at the ground.
Tabitha brightened. “Luka, you wouldn't happen to have any books about magical objects, would you? The one we’re looking for, Milbrant’s The Definitive History and Origin of Magical Objects, seems to be checked out, even though our system says it should be here.” She turned to Penelope. “Luka has quite a collection of research books.”
“Oh really?” Penelope replied, stealing a glance up at me again.
The bookshelf between us was maddening, so I came around the end and strode toward her, stopping just to her left. Half expecting she’d move away from me, I was pleased when she didn’t.
“That book is worthless fluff,” I told Tabitha. “Milbrant was a hack. There are far better children’s picture books on the subject, if you want to know the truth. What specifically are you researching? Magical objects—that’s a fairly broad topic.”
“Nothing in particular,” Penelope quickly replied.
“Sorry,” Tabitha said as her phone vibrated. “It’s Louise at the front information desk. I’ll let her know I’m busy. She’s fairly new and lacks self-confidence in her abilities even though she’s whip-smart.” She put the phone to her ear. “I’m helping someone right now, Louise. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” There was a short pause. “What?” Another short pause. “Okay, um, send him down.” Hanging up, she flashed us a quizzical look. “That’s so weird.”
“What is?” I asked.
Tabitha slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Someone else is asking about magical objects too.”
Penelope fidgeted from foot to foot. “Someone…else?”
“Yeah, what a coincidence. What if he’s taking the same online class that you are? You could be study partners. Although h
e’s asking specifically about onyx scarabs.”
“Onyx scarabs?” Penelope and I said in unison.
She looked at me as if I’d just sprouted horns. She took a step backward, clutching her bag tightly to her chest like a shield.
I turned to Tabitha. “Who’s asking? A local fellow?”
Tabitha shook her head and turned to go, oblivious to Penelope’s reaction. “Louise said he was from out of town and that he’d wondered if anyone else had been looking for information on onyx scarabs too. I’ll be right back with him. We can look together.”
“No!” Penelope choked, looking around furtively as if she were on the verge of bolting.
The need to protect Penelope engulfed me. It was the only thing that mattered.
I stepped in front of Tabitha and turned up my vampire charm. If the coven found out about what I was about to do, they’d have my head, but I’d deal with their wrath later. “There’s no need to mention anything about Penelope. Okay, love? In fact, she was never here.”
Tabitha gazed up at me, blinked twice, then smiled broadly. “Of course not. She was never here.” Twisting a lock of hair around her finger, she turned away from us and strolled slowly down the row.
I grabbed Penelope’s hand and headed for the tunnel system. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
Penelope
* * *
The next half hour went by in a blur. Luka led me from the library to a tunnel that sprawled beneath the city, gripping my hand tightly as we ran. It was part of a network of tunnels called the Basement that city workers used in order to get from building to building without tourists seeing them.
“How do you know where you’re going?” I gasped in between breaths. I wasn’t much of a runner.
“I’ve been down here a time or two with Julian. Been vampire on duty a few times.”
We jogged up a narrow and entirely too long flight of stairs. The heavy fire door at the top opened up into an alley. I wanted to stop and catch my breath, but Luka wouldn’t let me.
How Knot to Marry a Vampire Page 7