by Kira Nyte
Vivian smiled, the first genuine expression she’d mustered since waking up this morning. “Nice. We had an enjoyable time at Café Claude. And just so you know, Jackson made sure Draven didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have when we got home.”
Kalen snickered. “Good.”
“You know that’s not going to be the case for long, especially if they’re like us,” Fawn warned. Kalen released Vivian’s shoulders to hold open the door to the diner with a scowl. Fawn gathered one of Vivian’s hands and winked. “When are you seeing him again?”
“Tonight.”
“Sweatpants and a sweatshirt,” Kalen muttered.
Fawn waved him away. “Where are you going?”
Vivian laughed. Oh, what the very thought of Draven did to her. How it erased the dismal situation she faced. “He wants to take me for a ride on his motorcycle.”
Fawn’s eyes widened. “Oh, then I’ll bring you shopping after we leave Hugh’s.” She nudged Kalen’s arm. “Aren’t you excited for your sister?”
Kalen’s expression remained sharp and cool, but his eyes softened. He grunted noncommittally.
Vivian’s smile grew. “Now, brother. Be kind. He was a complete gentleman last night. I’m sure he’ll be even more so tonight.”
“Yeah. Sure. I know what would be going through my mind if Faunalyn were sitting behind me on a bike.”
“You’re preaching innocence when you are far from a saint,” Fawn teased Kalen. His eyes flashed, then took on a look Vivian had become very well acquainted with over dinner with Draven, and what that look did to her body. “All the more reason for extra layers, right, love?”
“A suit of armor would be a start.”
Vivian paused by the door to the backseat of Fawn’s car. “I fear for any daughters you and Fawn might have in the future. Especially if this is how protective you are of me, who is only your sister.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You are my sweet Vivi. I would do anything to make sure you’re safe. And happy.”
Vivian didn’t doubt him in the least. For as long as she could remember, Kalen made her safety and happiness his responsibility.
“Let’s see what new strategies Hugh has come up with to battle this latest version of Dr. Mad Scientist’s mutation.”
* * *
Delaney Ellingham placed a tray of fresh brownies on one of the tables in Hugh’s lab and wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. “They’re still warm.”
Jackson leaned closer to the tray. He caught his glasses as they slid down his nose with the tip of his finger. “They’re orange.”
“They’re white chocolate chip pumpkin brownies with caramel drizzle.” Delaney’s smile widened. “They’ve been a huge hit at the shop. Can’t go wrong with pumpkin this time of year.”
Vivian wished her stomach would stop churning. She’d love to dig into one of those delicious-looking brownies. Alas, her appetite fled her, as well as her short-lived good mood, the moment they pulled up the driveway to Hugh’s enormous house. The last time she stood in this room, she was on the brink of falling victim to the monster inside her. Minutes had become crucial. Dr. Hamstead had been on the run.
Hugh descended the stairs to the basement lab with quick, graceful steps. His eyes darted between each person in the room, landing on Vivian last. A mixture of sympathy and determination set in his expression.
“My apologies for my delay. Something came up regarding the Black and Orange Ball.” He crossed the room, pausing to shake Kalen’s hand and offer Fawn a small hug. “Are you planning on attending?”
Fawn nodded. “I purchased tickets the day they went on sale. We’re looking forward to it.”
Hugh grinned. “Wonderful. Now, would anyone care for coffee, tea, or another beverage before we get started?”
Vivian wasn’t the only one who suffered a tumultuous gut. Her brother passed up the chance for blood-laced wine and Jackson forewent the opportunity to sip on fine Scotch.
“I think we’re good,” Jackson said, choosing one of the brownie squares. He took a nibble and moaned. “Wow, Delaney. You’ve outdone yourself with these.”
Delaney beamed. Hugh lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Vivian had a feeling he had been her taste tester to get the recipe right. She’d have to take one home to enjoy later.
“Thanks. Took me three days to get that recipe right.”
“Three and a half days, actually,” Hugh corrected.
“Well, on that note, I’ll leave you be. I have to check on the little one.”
The adoration in Hugh’s expression as he watched his wife leave the lab made Vivian’s heart swell. Oh, she hoped one day she would get a chance to share that kind of love with someone. Who was she kidding? With Draven.
Hugh turned to Jackson. “I’ve reviewed your results and notes over the last day, as well as your suggestions and in which direction they point. I agree that we need to somehow introduce a component to my last serum that would penetrate the viral wall and restructure the DNA from within.” He stroked his chin for a thoughtful moment. “Seems that attacking it from the outside isn’t doing much besides causing it to mutate.”
“But I’ve been well for a few months now,” Vivian said. She wasn’t as knowledgeable as Jackson when it came to the science of this situation, but Hugh’s words plucked a fearsome chord in her mind. “It came back?”
Hugh sighed. “Unfortunately, I believe all we succeeded in doing was forcing the virus into hiding until it changed its components to deflect my previous antidote.” A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He asked Jackson, “Have you discussed anything with Vivian and Kalen?”
Jackson shook his head. “No. Not yet. I wanted to wait until we were all together. To keep things in order and avoid confusion.”
“Very well.” Hugh went to the sideboard and motioned to a tray of tea cups and a steaming pot. “Are you sure I can’t offer anyone a drink?”
“Thank you, no,” Vivian declined. Kalen and Fawn shook their heads. “Do you think we can cure this, Hugh?”
“I don’t give up easily. Certainly not when one’s life is at risk.” Hugh returned and motioned to the seats set away from his worktable and cabinets of bottles and equipment. They all took chairs. “Do I believe there’s a cure? Yes. It’s all a matter of finding it. Unfortunately, it may take a few times before we get it right. If you might be open to the suggestion, allow me to discuss this with Alice Bishop and see if there is any amulet or talisman she might be able to forge to offset the effects of the virus until we’ve developed that cure. Nothing except a cure will be a permanent solution, but it’ll help.”
“I don’t want the symptoms masked. I don’t want to miss something and find out it’s too late to do anything about it,” Vivian said. She hated that she would suffer the effects of the virus more acutely, but everyone would have a better idea of the severity if she didn’t hide what it was doing behind spells and witchcraft.
Hugh’s mouth twitched at the corners. His eyes glinted with respect. “You are a strong woman, Vivian. That is to be admired.”
She doubted she was strong in the sense he meant, but she smiled. His words gave her some hope.
“What will be required?” Kalen asked, shattering the momentary sentiment.
Back to business.
A stark reminder that time, even for an immortal, wasn’t always an ally.
“I would like to take blood samples, as well as a small tissue sample to use in creating a potential cure. That way, we, Jackson and I, can follow either the progress or the failure of the chemical combinations we create.”
Vivian suppressed a shiver. She shot Kalen a split-second glance and saw his jaw tighten and his eyes go dark.
The idea of Hugh retrieving a tissue sample brought back a storm of old memories from the lab. Memories Vivian didn’t want to relive. Strapped to metal examination tables while doctors and scientists cut and scraped and poked. The pain, the agony, the humiliation and helplessness. Anest
hetics had burned off too quickly to help. The doctors finally decided not to bother, leaving her to experience every slice of the scalpel. Every pierce of an instrument.
The shiver broke through her restraints.
The pain.
The secrets not even her brother knew.
She swallowed bile that rose in the back of her throat. Maybe a little wine wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would help with the blood thirst that hit her in waves as the beast grew stronger. Her thirst had never been as strong as Kalen’s, but she was still part vampire, and that part of her required sustenance.
Hugh must have sensed her apprehension or caught a glimpse of her fear. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on knees. “I have developed a type of block that will numb the area for a short time so I can obtain the sample. You shouldn’t feel any pain. If for some reason it doesn’t hold, then I won’t obtain the sample. Having a sample of tissue to see how this virus plays inside your body will help us determine what we need to factor into the antidote.”
“Okay. That’s fine,” Vivian agreed before she had time to dissuade herself. A sensation of chill caressed her arm. Her brother was severely unhappy with her decision, but he remained silent as she spoke on her own behalf. “Do you want to take the sample now?”
Hugh pressed his lips together. “If you’d be willing. Jackson and I agree that we shouldn’t delay this any longer than necessary.”
She nodded once, her gaze drifting toward her brother, then Fawn. “You’ll still come shopping with me after this, right?”
Fawn smiled. “Of course, Vivi.”
Well, at least she had something positive to anticipate to get her through these next few minutes.
Chapter Thirteen
Fawn certainly had ideas about proper bike attire. And they conflicted horribly with Jackson’s.
Jackson stood in the doorway of his makeshift lab, his jaw grinding as he looked her over. His face turned a light shade of red. “Really? Has Kalen seen this outfit?”
“Kalen went to Magical Mayhem after leaving Hugh’s house to pay invoices and see how Wendy and the new girl, Georgia, were doing. Fawn and I shopped alone.” She frowned, holding her arms out at her sides. She glanced down at her ensemble—soft leather pants, low-heeled ankle boots, a deep red cashmere sweater with a low V cut, and a thigh-length leather jacket. “Is it that horrible?”
The throaty rumble of an engine made her heart kick up in pace. It drew closer quickly.
“Oh, I think he’s here.”
“Back to your clothes.” Jackson whisked down the hallway and took her by the shoulders. He spun her around and herded her back to her room.
The doorbell rang.
He pointed to the bedroom. “It’s horrendous. He’ll hate it. Who would ever consider leather for a ride on a motorcycle? And that sweater? I thought Fawn had better fashion sense.”
“I’m sure she’d consult you for flannel.”
“Yeah, thanks, Vivi.” Jackson let out an exaggerated groan and rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep him occupied while you change. That damn sweater is way too…red.”
“But—”
Jackson gave her a gentle shove into the room. She spun around as he grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door shut, but not without pointing a finger toward her closet. “Change!”
Vivian stuck her tongue out at the closed door. She turned to the mirror over her dresser and looked at her choice of attire. She’d seen plenty of people wear leather on bikes. She assumed it was appropriate attire. Okay, so maybe the sweater was a little too red, but it was cute and warm. And soft. So, so soft.
What did the color of her sweater have to do with anything about riding a bike?
She fixed a few strands of hair that had come loose from the braids into the half ponytail around the tips of her ears. They still managed to escape and caress her cheeks, the edges blending into the surreal glow that suffused her bare skin tonight. Essence of the full moon, despite the dense cloud cover. Her eyes glowed bright, light blue with glittering silver.
“Momma, I trust in your wisdom,” she whispered to the image staring back at her. Eyes that triggered memories of staring up from her mother’s arms into a warm gaze. It made her heart ache, the memories, the loss. Even after all this time. Her mere age of two didn’t obscure her memories as it would that of most humans. What she did remember was vivid and sharp, and made her wish she could have even five minutes with her mother.
Not only was tonight her second date with Draven, it was the night she hoped to learn if the connection that shimmered between them was rooted in something deeper. Something promising and eternal.
After a lengthy stretch of time to make Jackson believe she was changing, she emerged from her room and moved silently through the hallway until she reached the living room.
Draven and Jackson sat in chairs opposite each other. Both wore disgruntled expressions. The energy in the air was thick and heavy. Sparks flashed in Jackson’s eyes and faint strands of light flitted across his fingertips, the only sign of his witchy breeding. To her astonishment, neither man moved, except for Jackson’s chest with each breath. They watched each other like enemies preparing for battle…or chess.
Vivian knocked on the wall just inside the archway to the living room.
Draven’s attention snapped to her and his eyes widened. “Vivian. Well…wow.”
Jackson scowled. He slumped back in his chair and dropped his head on the back to stare up at the ceiling.
Draven appeared in front of her in a blink, taking her hands to kiss her knuckles.
“I was worried this wouldn’t be appropriate motorcycle attire, but Fawn said it was perfect. Should I change?” Vivian asked.
“It certainly is perfect, love.” He popped his knee up with the toe of his boot. “I usually wear leather on the bike.”
It was sinful the way his leather pants showed off his narrowed waist and lithe thighs. They were boot-cut, if she recalled the term correctly, and fell straight from his knee to the top of his boots. As he lowered their hands, he stole a small tug at the bottom of her sweater, his nostrils flaring.
“This is quite nice on you.”
Jackson shoved to his feet and rounded Draven’s back. He caught Vivian’s eyes as he stopped long enough to plant a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Be careful.” He tossed Draven a cold glance. “Home in one piece, you hear?”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Draven teased.
Vivian released Draven’s hand and squeezed Jackson’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine. If anything happens, I’ll call you.”
Jackson nodded and disappeared around the corner. His demeanor sank into a desolate place, one that made her a little sad.
“You okay, love?”
Draven’s worried tone snapped her out of her thoughts. She smiled up at him and nodded. “Of course. So, should I be worried about being on the back of a motorcycle with you?”
Draven’s concern lifted, exposing a mischievous man in its stead. “That, my darling, depends on who you ask. Why don’t you tell me when the night is over, hmm?”
A thrill curled through her belly. “Then let’s get the night started.”
Draven led her from the house and down the front walkway to the street. A big black-and-chrome beast of a machine waited beside the curb, a single black helmet on the passenger seat. He picked it up and pulled the straps aside before positioning it over Vivian’s head. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath for the moment when their eyes met under the moonlight until a disappointed sigh escaped her lips. The moon remained hidden behind the clouds. There was no sign of anything but Draven’s captivating blue in his irises.
A faint crease marred his brow. “Wait. I forgot something.”
“What—”
His lips covered hers in a soft, tender kiss, but her body’s reaction was anything but soft and tender. He might as well have ignited a torch inside her, for what that kiss did.
“You devastate me,” he murmured against her
lips. “In a very good way.”
I think you do the same to me.
He eased the helmet onto her head, taking care to move her hair from the straps before he secured the bulky piece of plastic in place. He took her hand and tossed his leg over the seat, settling in the saddle like a man born to ride. It was downright sexy to watch him situate himself while holding her hand.
“Hop on, love. Put your feet on the pegs once you’re seated.”
He pointed to a piece of metal protruding from the side of the bike, above the shining exhaust. Allowing him to guide her with her hand in his, she kicked her leg over the rear of the seat. She grabbed his shoulder with her free hand as she sat, getting a feel for the bike beneath her. A pulse of nervousness shot through her as she set her boots on the pegs. There was nothing to protect her except for her clothing, the helmet, and the man in front of her.
He brought their entwined hands under his arm and pressed her palm flat to his lower chest.
She swallowed hard, closing her eyes as her hand molded to the hard muscle beneath his shirt. The tips of her fingers spread slightly, following the dip at the center of his chest.
A playful tap against her hand resting on his shoulder drew her to open her eyes.
Oh, sweet heavens.
He was watching her in the mirror, a knowing grin playing across his lips.
“Wrap your arms around me and hold on. The faster we go, it’ll be more comfortable to dip your head. Lean against me, into me. When we take turns, lean into them with me. Don’t resist. It’s how you steer a bike.”
“It won’t tip over?” she asked, slipping her other arm around his chest and locking her hands around her wrists. So far, she enjoyed the ride.
He chuckled. “I have a tad bit of know-how when it comes to handling this beast.”
As if to prove his point, he kick-started the bike into a roar, and said beast rumbled beneath her legs.
“Keep away from the exhaust pipes. They’ll get hot.”
“Where’s your helmet?” Silly question, considering little could kill him, but little could kill her, too.