Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

  I formulated a plan, pulling out my cell phone and calling the attorneys I’d visited yesterday. I ordered two of the four to destroy the thick sealed packet of documents I’d dropped off in an attempt at blackmailing Laumet to release Ollie. The other two I instructed to courier the documents to safety deposit boxes at banks outside the city. One of these two lawyers was my long-time personal attorney James Bryant. I made an appointment with him for noon and gave him a series of tasks to complete in advance of the meeting.

  I looked to Jed and William. “Would you go rent a moving truck and head over to Edmund Place? And get a trailer for the Camaro.” They nodded and left, debating who would get to drive the truck as they walked down the front steps.

  I tossed Griffin the keys to my truck. “Would you go get a couple dozen boxes and then come back here? Then some of us could get started here and some of us could get started at Edmund Place.”

  Griffin rose and headed to the door. “I’ll come with you, Griffin,” Rebecca offered. She rattled off a list of other things we’d need.

  “Lucien? Lucien?” Henrietta’s voice finally caught my attention.

  “Huh?”

  Henrietta and Catherine exchanged a glance. I cocked my head to the side. “What?”

  “They’re leaving, too?”

  I stared at Henrietta uncomprehending. Then I took two steps backward and sat down in a recliner.

  “Lucien, did you and Samantha talk about what is happening when you leave?”

  “No, Catherine, actually, we didn’t. She wanted to talk, but I thought she should get some sleep. I told her we’d talk when she gets up.”

  “But, then”—she looked down into her lap—”can you be sure she’s leaving with you?”

  I put my head in my hands, then combed my fingers through my hair and locked them on top of my head. “I…I guess I don’t know.”

  It was, of course, the obvious question. Only Samantha could make this decision. And after the revelations of the previous night, I had no basis for knowing what she might do.

  Everything in me told me she still loved me. Even after she found out what I was, she’d talked to me and touched me and received my touch. I didn’t perceive she was scared of me. Although given the way she’d felt in the bedroom, I had to admit I couldn’t perceive much from her right now.

  “We’re sorry to even ask, Lucien. It’s just—”

  “No, Henrietta, don’t apologize. Really. In fact, thank you for asking. You’ve reminded me to slow down where Samantha is concerned. I don’t want her to feel pressured. It is her decision. But, still, we need to be prepared. Assuming she comes”—an assumption upon which it felt my future survival was now based—”we need to get to work on this place sooner rather than later. I don’t want her to be in a position of having to leave anything behind.”

  Catherine sensed the turmoil beneath my words. She reached for my hand from her position on the couch.

  I met her eyes and whispered, “She has to come.”

  “I know. She’ll come. She loves you. They both do.” Then she smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes.

  I pulled my hand away and stood up. “Would you two stay here? I want to run over to my house and grab some things.” They agreed, so I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a black trash bag from under the sink. I left the house, and the cold air hit me like a brick wall.

  Back at my house, evidence of Laumet’s effort to destroy me remained, momentarily resurrecting the fear and loathing I’d felt when realization set in the last time I had stepped through this door. I picked up Ollie’s brown bear from the living room floor and scooped up the scattered pile of DVD cases, then dumped everything in the trash bag.

  I walked through the house collecting clothes, books, CDs, and framed photographs strewn throughout. I grabbed Ollie’s pictures off the refrigerator and set them aside on the counter, then straightened some sheet music into a pile and laid it on top of her pictures. Finally, I secured Ollie’s and my violin cases, still open on the kitchen table from a practice session we’d had the previous week.

  I stood there for a moment. Having to abandon this of all my houses left an empty feeling in my gut. It had come to feel the most like a home of anywhere I’d lived. While in recent years that had become more true of Orchard Hill, during the time I lived there, my own emotional struggles and constant conflicts with William had kept that house from ever feeling like the sanctuary this one did.

  I regretted having to leave. This was where I’d met them. This was where I’d fallen in love with them. This was where they’d loved me back.

  I put the pile inside the bag and cinched it, then threw my violin case strap over my shoulder. I put Ollie’s case under the arm holding the bag and with my other hand picked up the music stand Samantha had given me for Christmas. That was everything.

  I locked the door on my way out and returned to Samantha’s. Catherine held the door open for me. I thanked her as I set everything down on Samantha’s living room floor.

  “Griffin just called. They should be back in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks, Henrietta. Have you heard anything from upstairs?” She shook her head. That was good. They needed their rest.

  When Griffin and Rebecca returned with the supplies, Catherine took the keys and code to Edmund Place. She and Rebecca went over to meet William and Jed with the truck to pack.

  I glanced at the clock. 9:24 a.m. Twenty-two hours twenty-nine minutes. “Henrietta, will you please go up and check on Ollie? Just make sure she’s still doing okay?”

  Her face brightened. In a flash, she was upstairs.

  I looked at Griffin’s face, etched with concern, and blew out a breath. “I really made a mess of things, didn’t I?”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment, then jammed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. “Yeah.” My shoulders slumped. “But you know what, Lucien? Life is messy. I am a hundred times happier seeing you trying to live. It’s so much better than how you used to be, just going through the motions, denying yourself any happiness. I mean this in the best possible way: you’re more human right now than at any time since I’ve known you.”

  My eyes flashed to his and, as I struggled to find the words to respond, Henrietta returned. “She’s still sleeping, Lucien, and her temperature has almost returned to normal. It’s a good sign.” She slid an arm around my waist and squeezed, then laid her head on my shoulder.

  I slipped my arm around her in return, needing to indulge in her healing touch for just a moment. “Thanks, Henny.” She smiled up at me.

  “So, do you want us to start packing in here?” Griffin asked.

  “Um, let’s prepare to do it, anyway,” I offered lamely. “Maybe start taping the boxes together—”

  “Lucien?”

  We all heard Samantha’s whispered call. The agony in the tone of it nearly made me double over. I flew upstairs to Samantha’s room, trying all the while to find the courage to face the conversation I knew we needed to have.

  ***

  I took a deep breath and pushed gently through Samantha’s bedroom door. She was still asleep, clearly dreaming. Her face was wet with tears.

  I climbed into the bed and spooned myself against her, willing her to feel safe and secure. I draped my arm over her waist and tucked my fingers between her body and the mattress. Her shuddered breathing steadied after a few minutes, and she pushed her body back into mine. I sighed in relief.

  She shifted onto her back, her face turned into my chest. I pressed a warm kiss of prayer against her forehead. Please be okay with all this. I know it’s impossible. But please.

  Over her head, the red light of her alarm clock spelled out the time: 10:01 a.m. Twenty-one hours fifty-two minutes. Fifteen minutes later, her eyelashes brushed against my throat. She snuggled into my chest, warm with sleep. Then her emotions clouded.

  I pulled back a little. “Are you all right?”

  A long moment passed. She looked so vulnerable laying there curled
on her side against me. “Yes. No. I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

  She pushed out of bed and padded across the carpet to the bathroom. Several minutes later, she returned with a glass of water she placed on the nightstand, then she shivered, looked at me, made a decision, and crawled back into bed against me.

  I closed my eyes in thanks. I’d been terrified she’d gone to the bathroom as a pretense. Her return nearly melted me. Okay, I have to stop looking for meaning in every little thing she does. But, honestly, right then, it was all I had to go on.

  “Would you like to talk now?” I kissed her forehead as she nodded. “Do you want to start, or do you want me to?”

  “Um, you?”

  “Okay.” I kissed her again, inhaling the smell of vanilla from her hair. I shifted down on the bed and lay on my stomach so I could see her face. I wanted her to be able to see me say what I had to say. “Sam, I love you. I love you so desperately it feels like my existence depends on yours. And I love Ollie. I love seeing the world through her eyes. Her goodness gives me hope. I love the three of us together. You, her, us—it all feels natural to me, like it was meant to be. You two feel like my destiny.”

  I reached for her hand and kissed it. “I should’ve told you earlier. I know it sounds pathetic, but I tried. I swear I did. But I didn’t know how to force the words from my lips. Still, I know I should’ve told you. I know I deceived you. But, please, please believe I didn’t mean or want to hurt you. Your pain is my pain, Samantha, literally. You must know that. So I’m sorry. So very sorry.”

  She heaved a deep breath and bit down on her lip.

  “If the biggest contribution I ever make to this world is your happiness, Ollie’s happiness, it will be enough, and so much more than I ever dared hope for. I promise I will never lie to you again, never keep anything from you again. If there is a way I can prove that to you, just name it. Anything. I will do anything to regain your trust.”

  Her emotions resurfaced, and the warmth of her love encompassed me. My heart swelled. I clasped both hands around the hand I’d been holding and laced my fingers through one another over her hand as if I was praying. I was.

  “Please tell me we can be all right again, that you can accept me, that you’ll let me make this up to you. I love you with my life, Samantha, please—”

  She slipped her hand from mine and wrapped it around my neck. I moaned into her mouth when her lips found mine. Her heart thundered. I placed a hand on the side of her face and deepened the kiss, nearly euphoric in my relief. Too soon, she pulled away. She gasped.

  She brushed her hand against my cheekbone and held it up to her face. Then she sat up and turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

  Cazzo! I held my breath.

  Finally she looked at me. “You cry blood?”

  I ground the heel of my hand against my traitorous eye. “I’m sorry.”

  But she only felt sympathy for me. The thin bloody tear hadn’t alarmed her, it seemed. In fact, she closed her fist around the remainder of the tear on her palm as if it was an object she was safekeeping. “Tell me about you. Please?”

  “Anything, dolcezza.” The nickname slipped out. I glanced up at her, expecting her reprimand.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, causing a dangerous current of hope to jolt through my heart.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know everything.”

  “Well, you already know my history. I only left the dates out before. I lived at Orchard Hill until 1938, then I traveled for a long time. I searched for the one who made me, who…killed my family, but I never found him. I came here in 1949 and have lived here ever since. Right after I arrived, Laumet’s men found me and brought me to him. I was in a very bad place then. I felt like a total failure, like I didn’t deserve anything better than the worst possible life. So I agreed to work for him. But you should know I tried to abstain from the worst parts of his business dealings. I feel things too acutely because of my empathy, and it was hard living in his world. I was losing myself. One time, I saved his life, so he let me leave. That was in 1990.”

  “Where?”

  “Where what?”

  “Where have you lived?”

  “Oh. Well, you know I have a lot of houses. One has been my primary residence for most of my time here. It’s not too far.”

  “I want to see it.”

  I thought about debating her, only because our time was so limited. But after everything, she had the right to ask for anything. “Okay. I’ll take you this afternoon.”

  She nodded. “What else?”

  “Last night you said you had special abilities. What are they?”

  I met her eyes. “Besides being empathic and being able to charm, I also have heightened physical capabilities—strength, speed—”

  “Like when you carried me outside last night.”

  “Yes. Um, also, our senses are heightened, so I can see, hear, and smell things you can’t.”

  “Oh.” After a moment, she felt embarrassed. “Whatever you’re thinking about, you can ask it. You won’t offend me.”

  “It’s stupid.” She pulled her knees up to her chest.

  I pushed myself into a sitting position facing her. “I’m sure it’s not. Just ask.”

  “Okay, well, um. Shit. I don’t know how to say what I’m trying to ask. Okay, so I’ll just say it: I’m thinking about movies, about what they show in the movies about…”

  “About vampires?” She bit her lip and nodded. “Well, what exactly do you have in mind?”

  “Um, wooden stakes, garlic, sunlight, coffins?” She traced a white flower on her comforter with one finger.

  “Most of those things are fictions. Direct sunlight burns if we expose ourselves to it for any length of time, Griffin thinks because of the limited pigmentation in our skin. But otherwise all of those things are just legend. Would you like to know what can harm us, me?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Can you guess any?”

  “Um…you…his…” She stumbled, then made a cutting gesture across her neck with a grimace.

  “Yes, that is the surest way to kill us.”

  She nodded and thought for a moment. “Why did he collapse after he bit Ollie?”

  “One of the things that can harm my kind is blessed water or wine—holy water. I’ve been feeding you and Ollie holy water since I first got involved with you.” She gasped so I rushed on. “Please try to understand, you were the first humans I’d allowed myself to get close to. I just wanted to protect you, to make sure I maintained my control around you. I’ve been putting it in your bottled water dispenser. It can’t kill us, but it’s like a poison, and it takes time to heal.”

  “That’s why you made me drink that water yesterday? In case anyone bit me?”

  “Yes. Having so much in your systems weakened Jacques and Antoine enough for me to save you both from them.” She nodded. “Are you okay?”

  She scoffed. “I have no idea. Go on.”

  “Um, silver. It also burns us and can be used to restrain us. Again, it wounds but doesn’t kill—”

  “Oh, God, Lucien. I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” I asked, surprised by her rapid actions.

  Her hands flew to her throat. She fished under the collar of her T-shirt and grabbed the thick silver chain I’d asked her to wear. She wrenched it over her head and threw it on the floor. She looked at me horrified, her guilt lying sour in my mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she gasped. “I wouldn’t have left it on.”

  At first I was mystified, but then I understood and hope seized me. I’d been working hard to give her space, but I threw myself around her. “Don’t apologize,” I rasped. “You didn’t know. And even if you had, I would’ve understood if you wanted to keep it on.”

  “What? I don’t want to hurt you!”

  “I know, dolcezza. You can’t know what your actions just now mean to me. You don’t have to remove
it, though, you know. I want you to feel safe. If it helps you feel safe, then—”

  “Stop. Please.” She heaved a breath. “Did you ask to become what you are?”

  I sat back enough to see her but kept her in my arms. “Absolutely not.”

  “And can you change it?”

  I looked at her for a long moment and shook my head.

  “Lucien, I’m having a very hard time reconciling what you are with what I know of you. I mean, I never would’ve expected…this. But I can at least recognize what you are isn’t your fault.”

  “Sam,” I whispered, “is it too much to hope you can accept this?” I dropped my arms from around her but took her hand.

  She let out a long breath. “I’ve just found out a world of myth and magic exists side by side with the real world. I don’t know yet, okay?”

  “Okay.” It wasn’t a no. Right? At least it wasn’t a no.

  “So”—she thought for a moment—”why do holy water and silver harm you?”

  “I don’t know the origins of my kind, but a lot of cultures ascribe religious significance and power to these items, so I can only assume their ability to harm us is evidence of our inherent sinfulness.”

  She played with her fingers. I feared the look on her face. “I don’t know what to think of that, Lucien. You’ve always struck me as one of the most decent people I’ve ever known.”

  I looked up at her, in awe of the effort she was making.

  Then her face clouded. “Do you sleep?”

  “Not like you do. I don’t fully lose consciousness, and I can go for some time without sleeping. I think of it as more of a trance.”

  She nodded and her anxiety spiked.

  “What is the question you really wanted to ask me?”

  She looked up at me surprised. “Are you reading my feelings?”

  “Sorry. It’s a little hard for me to avoid with you. But, since you know I am, you know I can tell you’re feeling anxious about something. So, what is it?”

  “I’m just wondering…about…what you…uh…” Her face flushed.