The Immortal’s Salvation: Bloodwite Book Two

by Mecca, Cecelia

  But the jerk didn’t say a thing. Man code and all.

  Instead, he brought her a drink and asked if she wanted to jump behind the bar.

  She didn’t. Her friends had already left.

  Call it women’s intuition, or maybe Alessandra’s bizarre Cheld instincts had rubbed off on her, but something told her to go out the side door. Maybe James had looked at it inadvertently?

  The why didn’t matter. Toni had tossed open the door and had seen Tyler making out with a blonde girl in the alley not two feet from her. Despite his objections that it wasn’t what it looked like, it clearly was what it looked like. She’d shrugged away the rush of relief and thought logically about the situation. Tyler had actually cheated on her!

  “Baby, wait,” he’d said, chasing after her as Toni ran back into the bar. “I was stupid—”

  “Not as stupid as me,” she’d had the satisfaction of offering as a retort. “How many times?” And even as she’d asked the question, Toni had not cared if he answered or not. It didn’t matter.

  “Once, I swear.” He reached for her. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Toni, calm down for a—”

  Pulling her hand away as if burned, Toni did not give him another chance to explain.

  “We’re done,” she said, Tyler picking up on the finality in her voice. Or not truly caring himself. Either way, he thankfully had not come after her.

  “So tell me again everything you couldn’t stand about him,” she said, staring at her hands. The warmth of the hot tea felt like a blanket around her fingers. She gripped the mug more tightly.

  “I don’t think now is the time—”

  “I think it’s the perfect time, actually.”

  Alessandra didn’t look convinced.

  “How about you stay here, get some sleep?” her friend said, taking the tea from her. “Tomorrow you can call your aunt—”

  “I’m going to work. Meeting you for lunch. And doing everything I would normally. Period. End of story.”

  She would not sulk. She would not allow that jerk to affect her schedule.

  “OK, fine. But in the meantime—”

  “Put it out there. Go ahead. Spill it. I know you never liked him—”

  Alessandra rolled her eyes. “How could you possibly have guessed? Was it because I told you so like a dozen times a month?”

  Despite the ache in her chest, Toni smiled. “Yes, but you never really elaborated.”

  “Because I didn’t want to bad-mouth the man you love—”

  “Loved.”

  “Loved. But if you insist—”

  “I do.”

  Alessandra took a deep breath. “You know full well he’s cocky—”

  “Part of the appeal. I mean, if I’m being honest.”

  “And I get that.” She grinned. “Look at Kenton.”

  Fair point. He’d been an earl in his human life, according to Alessandra, and good God, you could tell. His every step breathed of confidence.

  “But,” Alessandra continued, “Tyler is arrogant, thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

  It was true, but not any news flash. She’d heard that one before. Hell, she’d told him as much herself on more than one occasion. “And?”

  Alessandra shook her head.

  “Allie, please. I need to hear it. Everything.”

  “I . . . I don’t think he treated you all that well,” she blurted. “You always said he was there for you, after the accident—”

  The words made her flinch, just like they always did. If only she could forget the night of her parents’ crash—the night everything had changed. But time had not blunted those two little words. “And he was,” she murmured.

  Alessandra frowned. “I mean, yes, he was understanding of your situation. The raw feelings even years later.”

  She paused, as if she weren’t sure whether she should continue, but Toni nodded. “Please?”

  “But I also think there was some comfort for him in you being somewhat alone, dependent on him.”

  She almost blurted out the truth, although she knew it was nothing Alessandra wanted to hear.

  But I’m no prize.

  She worked two dead-end jobs and only covered the rent because her aunt and uncle owned the house. They allowed her to pay them—she had her pride—but the rent was so ridiculously small she could always cover it. She had no family to speak of other than Birdie and Jim. Her parents were dead.

  And it was her fault.

  Alessandra sprung up and kneeled down in front of her.

  “If you make me cry again—”

  “I’ll answer for you,” Alessandra cut in. “He didn’t deserve you for a moment. Tyler loves himself, and that’s about it. What he did tonight proves it. Listen to me,” she scolded. “You are beautiful and smart, charming and . . . maybe a little scatterbrained but—”

  “Not fair. Just because I leave my purse somewhere at least twice a week . . .” It was easier to joke than to accept the compliments Alessandra offered.

  “He did not deserve you,” she repeated. “Say it.”

  “Tyler did not deserve me.”

  “Oh come on, say it like you mean it.”

  “Tyler did not deserve me,” she said again.

  “When you wake up tomorrow, I want you to look in the mirror and say it again. Look yourself in the eyes and say it over and over and over until you believe it. Because I’m telling you something right now. He didn’t. And if you want brutal honesty? I’ll give it to you. Part of me is glad you saw him with that girl tonight, because he was holding you back. And tomorrow, I am declaring a Sunday Funday—”

  “But I have work.”

  “After work. You’re going to call off Monday, not because you’ll need to stay home and mope about that stupid caveman. But because we are going out tomorrow, and it will be epic. I don’t want any excuses about having to get up early in the morning.”

  “I’ll just tell Birdie I’m calling off sick ahead of time because Alessandra plans to make me day drink, so I am going to be hungover. She’ll be thrilled.”

  Alessandra smiled as if Toni had just come up with the perfect plan, completely ignoring her sarcasm. OK, so maybe she had a point. Birdie would probably be thrilled.

  “I’m so glad we’re on the same page. Now let’s go, you’re staying here tonight. No arguments.”

  Toni grabbed her mug back, clutching it to her chest as Alessandra pulled her to her feet.

  Just as the two of them walked toward the hallway, Kenton appeared, phone in hand.

  “Why do you look so guilty?” Alessandra asked.

  He glanced at Toni before shifting his gaze back to his fiancée. “Just texting a . . . friend.”

  Apparently, he didn’t want to tell her while Toni was around. Fair enough. She’d barged into the man’s house after midnight, and he’d barely blinked.

  “OK, weirdo,” Alessandra said. “Toni’s staying here. Let me grab her some towels for the morning, and then I’ll meet you in a minute.”

  Despite the fact that she’d just dumped her boyfriend of over a year, Toni couldn’t feel even a glimmer of jealousy over how ridiculously in love they were. Vampire or not, Kenton brought out the best in her friend.

  She liked him. And liked them together.

  If thoughts of another vampire had plagued her all night, making Toni feel almost guilty, even though she was the one who had found Tyler cheating, well, no one needed to know.

  Chapter 5

  Toni and Tyler broke up.

  The text, sent by his former enemy, who had never once called or texted him before, had run through his head all night, keeping him from sleep. He hadn’t asked for specifics or even responded to the message. Neither was he certain about what to do.

  Lawrence looked down toward the center of town from his second-floor verandah. Surrounded by the Pocono Mountains, nestled between a river on one side and a climbing slope of brightly colored homes and businesses, Stone Haven reminded him of
Lucerne. Of New Orleans.

  He really did like it here.

  And now he had one more reason to stay.

  “Going for a run?”

  Laria walked up beside him, joining him in his contemplation of the town below.

  “Yeah.” He’d planned to do it earlier and would pay for his procrastination. The hot August sun hid behind no clouds today, but he needed the distraction. Running had always helped him think. He could put up with the sweat.

  “What’s so funny?” Laria asked, catching his grin.

  “Do you remember that young boy in Dublin?”

  “The Cheld who became a professor of mythology?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. He gave an hour-long talk about whether vampires sweat. I almost offered to prove the point for him.”

  Laria laughed. “The poor lad. One of the students shouted out that he’d do better as a novelist.”

  The Cheld were naturally drawn to them, much as they were to the Cheld. This particular young man, whom they’d met when he was just twelve, had gone on to publish all sorts of literature on vampirism, much of it ignored by a community not ready for the truth.

  “Perhaps we wouldn’t sweat if Isobel hadn’t tried to reverse the curse—”

  “A dangerous line of thought.”

  They rarely talked about their sister-in-law. Lady Isobel hadn’t done any of this on purpose. The curse and counter-curse had been fueled by the power of the grief-stricken healer. And so they had been left with the strange rules that governed their lives, all things that reminded them of Isobel—and reminded Lawrence of how he’d failed her.

  “Wonder all you like; it doesn’t matter,” Laria said, pulling hair away from her face. “’Tis done.”

  She likely hadn’t caught her slip of the tongue. “Your medieval is showing,” he said.

  “Yeah well, your procrastination is too. Go sweat your butt off.”

  Pushing away from the balcony, he grabbed his phone and earbuds from the wrought iron table by the door and made his way down to the street. As he jogged toward the river, he concentrated on slowing himself down. Alessandra was finally learning to do the same, realizing the speed at which they ran could attract undue attention.

  Just as he was about to turn left on a path that would lead him toward the river, Lawrence heard it. The distinct sound of a large group of women laughing hysterically. Caught short by curiosity, he made his way toward Main Street.

  What in the bloody hell?

  “They’re going to kill you,” said Charlotte, an English teacher who’d worked with Alessandra at the high school. She was speaking to Toni and the others as they glided away from the porte-cochère at the back of Stone Haven Inn . . . on a luggage cart.

  Though he stood a block away, Lawrence could hear their conversation clearly.

  “Stop worrying,” Alessandra said. “We have permission to use it.”

  “Uh-huh. They told you it was okay to take a luggage cart and ride it down the street? I don’t think so—oh my God, we’re going to get arrested.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at the spectacle as he moved closer. Poor Charlotte looked as if she were about to lose her lunch. Meanwhile, the other women seemed to enjoy teasing her.

  “Off to The Witch’s Brew for coffee cordials,” Toni called from the cart, lifting her arm imperiously.

  What the hell was a coffee cordial?

  “Please,” Charlotte tugged on Toni’s hand. “You have to give it back.”

  As Toni and her companion jumped down from the cart, he realized what was happening. Alessandra had told him once before about her friends’ Sunday Funday routine. Whenever one of her friends needed a special pick-me-up, they’d gather together for a bout of day drinking and ridiculous behavior.

  It seemed to be working.

  Toni looked less like a woman scorned than one who was thoroughly enjoying herself. Red hair that looked as if it had been kissed by a fire god, a smile so broad even he couldn’t help mirroring it . . . as always, Toni was the center of the ladies’ joviality.

  It appeared Charlotte’s good sense won the day as the women smuggled the cart back into the hotel. And that’s when she saw him. Alessandra had known he was here all along, of course, but she’d clearly held her tongue. Until now. Toni’s laughing eyes met his gaze and held it. He thought of holding her in his arms, a woman already committed to another, something between them that was no longer an obstacle. She was thinking the same. He could tell from her expression, and while it may terrify her so soon out of a bad relationship, the possibilities flooded him with an awareness of Toni O’Neill unlike any he’d ever had before.

  Alessandra waved for him to join them, and against his better judgment, he started to close the distance between them, each step heavier than the last.

  Divested of the luggage cart, which they clearly had not been permitted to use, judging by the doorman’s sour expression, the women began walking toward him. All of them talked and laughed at once, their jovial mood infectious, but his attention was only on her.

  Toni grabbed Alessandra’s shoulder, using it as a support so she could remove her shoes. Wedges, to be exact. He’d absorbed every detail already. Ripped jean shorts, a loose white top covered by a gray and white striped short-sleeved sweater, perfectly appropriate for summer. Bright auburn hair everywhere, wild in its refusal to be tamed.

  Not unlike the lady herself.

  “We’re heading to The Witch’s Brew,” Charlotte said, interrupting their staring contest. “You coming?”

  Alessandra looked between them, waiting for his answer, but he did not break eye contact with Toni. He tried to tell her everything in that moment. Yes, he hated her ex-boyfriend. He hated that she’d allowed herself to be treated poorly by him. He may have even hated her a bit for it. But mostly, he hated that she hadn’t been with him instead.

  No longer laughing, Toni took off her second shoe, standing barefoot in the street. Her toenails, he noticed, were painted blue.

  “Remind me never to wear these again,” she said to Alessandra. “I’ll be right behind you guys.”

  Alessandra looked at him, and he nodded in response to the silent question. He would take her there . . . when they were finished talking.

  A talk that was long overdue.

  * * *

  Goddammit, the man was hot.

  Running clothes. He typically wore jeans and a T-shirt, keeping it casual, especially compared to Kenton’s refined wardrobe. But Lawrence would look good in a potato sack. Kind of a cross between what a cowboy should look like, in her mind at least, and a guy who hailed from the Scottish Highlands.

  Or Lowlands, as Alessandra said, but all of the romance books she’d read were about Highlanders, so she preferred to think otherwise.

  Toni, stop.

  You’ve been single for less than twenty-four hours. You have no business checking him out.

  To hell with that.

  “Ugh,” she groaned as her friends walked away, Alessandra looking back at them no less than five times.

  “Something wrong?”

  Besides the fact that my emotions are a jumbled mess, and I haven’t had nearly enough to drink yet?

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened,” he said, seeming sincere. But still . . .

  “Are you?”

  She hadn’t meant for it to sound so snappy. Lawrence just made her . . . unbalanced.

  He nodded toward Main Street, and Toni fell in next to him as he began to walk, following the others.

  “No.”

  That one simple word stopped her dead.

  “No?”

  But was she really surprised? She’d suspected as much. It was why she’d asked the question in the first place.

  “Did you want me to be honest?”

  “Well, of course, but—”

  “Then no, I’m not at all sorry.”

  She would regret this.

  “Why?” Desperate to do something with
her body, anything to blunt the buzzing sense of self-awareness that came over her whenever he was near, Toni started walking again.

  “I don’t like Tyler. Or the way he treated you.”

  Talk about being honest. She let herself look at him, just for a second, and the words came gushing out of her. “Sometimes I wonder if you don’t like me much either.”

  Yep. She’d blame the alcohol.

  “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  She stopped again. “Really? Then why do you move into another room whenever I’m nearby? It feels like you can’t get away from me fast enough.”

  Lawrence sighed and glanced over at a family of tourists huddled around a map.

  “Up there,” he called to them, “four blocks and then take a left.”

  When they looked up, Lawrence must have realized his mistake. His supersonic vampire hearing had obviously picked up on their conversation. She hadn’t even heard them murmuring.

  “The old jail, right?” he said. Unapologetic, as always, he pointed again in the direction he’d told them. “You’ll find it up there.”

  Looking back to her, he pursed his lips together ever so slightly, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her. At least she’d always known what Tyler was thinking. It usually had something to do with sex or beer. Manageable thoughts and expectations.

  Silent types were the worst.

  “Whatever,” she tossed out. But just when she was certain he was ignoring her, and her question, he reached for her elbow, whisking her into the alleyway against the five-and-dime store faster than she could blink.

  “I avoid you . . .” His voice, low and caressing, enveloped her like a warm blanket. “. . . for the same reason you avoid me.”

  His words slapped her across the face like an angry lover. He wasn’t wrong. She’d wanted to kiss him the first night they’d met—and every day since—but she was ashamed of it. She’d been with Tyler, after all, and while he was a cheater, she wasn’t.

  Shoving him away from her, Toni said, “How dare you. You know nothing about me or my motivations.”