A Vampire's Promise

by Carla Susan Smith

  As I lay tucked against his side, my mind was going a mile a minute. With my arm across his chest, my leg flung over his thigh, I was enjoying the long lazy caresses his hand was making as it moved across my skin. Well, trying to. Difficult when you’re not completely alone. And I didn’t want to be the one who mentioned it first.

  No matter how much I told myself it didn’t matter what Gabriel did when he wasn’t with me, it was a lie. It did matter. In my world no legitimate occupation is ever referred to as this and that. I sensed that if I were to ask, he would tell me exactly what he did for a living, and how he made his money.

  The question was . . . did I really want to know?

  There was a certain comfort in having a measure of plausible deniability. But what did that mean for this fledgling relationship we had embarked on? A lie was never a promising start, and even though Gabriel had told me no lies as far as I knew, withholding the truth was sometimes worse. Wasn’t it? Guess it all came down to perspective. But that wasn’t the only piece of baggage the elephant brought with him.

  “What are you thinking about?” Gabriel asked, his voice a soft murmur in the dark.

  I sighed, “Nothing.”

  “Liar.” He spoke the word playfully and stayed his hand on a downward stroke. Gently moving me off of him, Gabriel propped himself on his side and looked down at me. His eyes were sleepy, lazy, and incredibly sexy.

  “You have every right to be wary of me and my intentions; your trust is something I will have to earn again. And I know it will take time.”

  “Why do you think I don’t trust you?”

  Catching a lock of my hair, he twisted it gently through his fingers. “I left you before. It is only natural to wonder if I will do so again.”

  Bingo. A loud trumpeting sound in my head said the elephant was glad to be partially acknowledged.

  “And will you?” I held my breath waiting for his answer, and not feeling the slightest guilt at putting him on the spot.

  Dropping my curl, Gabriel put his hand beneath my chin and stroked the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. His eyes were deep, bottomless pools, and I was drowning inside them. It would be a beautiful, endless death.

  “Only if you tell me to go,” he said solemnly. “I hated the way I left you before, but there were reasons for it, Rowan.”

  The anguish in his voice was all I needed to hear, and it changed everything. Whatever the reasons, they were Gabriel’s, and I was not about to demand he share them. It was enough that we had both been miserable. He kissed me—one of those spine-tingling numbers that could make me forget my own name—and I wanted nothing more than to make sure he kept on kissing me like this . . . forever.

  “Rowan, there are things about me you need to know—”

  “Gabriel, hush!” I had to stop him before the elephant blew his trunk off. This wasn’t the time to hear any confessions. Not when I had the feeling they could be life-changing for me.

  Placing my hands on his fabulous pecs, I pushed him down onto his back and straddled him. He opened his mouth to speak, but I pressed my fingers against his lips, smiling as he pressed back against them.

  “I know you’re not like other men,” I said, smiling down at him. “You don’t have a nine-to-five job, and there’s an aura about you that spells trouble with a capital T, and every sensible, sane bone in my body is telling me to stay away from you.” I leaned forward just enough to tease him by brushing my breasts against his chest. “I. Don’t. Care. If I wanted a regular boyfriend, I wouldn’t be lying on top of you right now.”

  And it was true. Saying the words out loud dispelled any lingering doubts about my commitment. Consciously or not, I’d made the decision that I wanted to be with Gabriel, no matter what his past or his present. And it wasn’t just for the sex. I wasn’t that foolish that I’d offered up some brain cells along with my virginity.

  Maybe I was just tired of the whole dating scene. The constant cattle market that always had me coming home alone. It hadn’t been such a big deal a few years ago, but once I hit twenty-five, that old saying about time moving faster as you got older was definitely ringing true. It wasn’t doing a Roadrunner on me, but I could feel it starting to move up a little. And maybe seeing Laycee and Jake together, knowing my BFF was shifting into a different phase of her life, was also affecting me. I knew Laycee and I would always be friends, but the fabric of our friendship had changed now that Jake was in her life. Already she didn’t need me as much as she had before. And I was okay with that. It was how it was supposed to be.

  I stared down at the man who lay beneath me, saying nothing, giving me the time I needed to gather my thoughts, and waiting patiently for me to speak. He was a mystery, all right, and a part of me still didn’t understand why he wanted to be with me, but then that odd little voice blew through my head, and there was a feeling of rightness when Gabriel held me in his arms. A certainty that reaffirmed being with him was exactly where I was meant to be.

  My hips moved with just enough pressure to make him groan and flare his nostrils. I felt the steel hardness of him pushing up against me, but despite his desire, I also saw the shadow I had seen before flicker deep in his eyes. The specter of loneliness could not be diminished that easily. Gently I stroked my fingers along the stubble that darkened his jaw, feeling the slight tension in his hand as it moved down my thigh.

  Framing his face with my hands, I stared into his eyes, suddenly picturing the cobalt blue bleeding out and his pupils turning gold. It was an odd image to bring to mind, but I remembered it vividly from that night in the diner. And I knew it was a connection to the secrets he was keeping. I wanted to tell him it didn’t matter. I hadn’t been frightened then, and I wasn’t now.

  “I’m not going to deny that I’m curious. I’m female; it’s in our DNA.” Smiling, Gabriel tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “Of course I want to know everything about you,” I continued, “about what you do when you’re not with me, but I’m not ready to hear it just yet, any more than you are to tell me.” He opened his mouth, no doubt to issue a denial, but I shook my head. “Let me finish this. I don’t need details, but there are some things I do need to know, okay?”

  Grasping my hand in his, Gabriel pressed his lips against my palm and traced a small circle with the tip of his tongue. “Ask me anything.”

  I took a deep breath. “What you do for a living, this and that . . . is it illegal?”

  He didn’t hesitate for a second. “Some would consider it so.” His voice was serious, and even though his reply wasn’t the definitive answer I’d been hoping for, it was honest. Any uncertainty or faltering would have sent up a red flag.

  “Is it immoral?”

  “That depends on your view of morality.”

  My eyebrows shot up. That was a discussion we needed to have, and sometime soon.

  “Okay.” I paused, unsure of how to phrase my next question, and then I just decided there was no good way, so I spit it out. “Does it involve children in any way?”

  His eyes became hard. “Absolutely not. I would never do anything that would harm an innocent!”

  It was my first taste of his anger, and while the vehemence of his denial scared me a little, it also sent a warmth rushing through me. Children and animals—there was no place in my life for a man who would deliberately hurt either. I brushed the hard line that his mouth had become with my lips, apologizing for my questions. His tongue in my mouth forgave me.

  I raised my head. “Will I be in danger if I know any of your secrets?”

  Gabriel moved so quickly I didn’t realize he had flipped me onto my back until I found myself surrounded by a white curtain of hair.

  “No harm will come to you, Rowan,” he declared, “from either your world or mine. I swear it.”

  His expression was so fierce, it pushed open a door in the back of my mind. Unfortunately it wasn’t wide enough to offer any real insight, keeping whatever memory lay behind it just out of reach.

  “
I don’t doubt that,” I whispered.

  Relaxing his stern scowl, he pressed his lips to my forehead. “I have taken certain steps to make sure you are safe, even when I cannot be with you.”

  I wanted to ask him what I needed to be kept safe from, but an unexpected stab of fear pierced me, and the look in his eye said there were some things it was better not to know. Fuck! This was something I hadn’t accounted for. Truly serious shit.

  And it didn’t change a damn thing.

  At least now I knew the air of danger that surrounded him was more than just my imagination. I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him. Just as deep, just as long, the way he had kissed me. And, although I don’t think I had quite the skill to make him forget his name, there was no denying the passion I awakened. When I finally let go of his mouth, my breath was ragged, my hands fisted in his hair. “Promise me that, when the time is right, you will tell me everything that I don’t know.”

  “When the time is right,” he answered in a low growl, “I will have no choice.”

  An ominous chill ran through me. “You think my feelings will change when I know?”

  “It would be impossible for them not to,” he said, his mouth settling into a sad smile, “but in what direction I cannot say.”

  “Hey, c’mon,” I chided, “have some faith.”

  He was so serious about this, whatever it was, that I wanted to reassure him. Tell him he was wrong. But Gabriel decided that the time for talking was over and my mouth could be put to better use.

  When I went downstairs the next morning, the blouse and bra I’d been wearing the night before, clothes that I’d eagerly stripped off, were now folded in a neat pile on the table. I imagined Gabriel’s fingers stroking the satin cups of my bra, and I felt a thrill of pleasure rush through me at the thought of him touching my underwear. Whether I was in it or not.

  I made coffee and went to get the Sunday paper from the end of the driveway. It was the only day I had the newspaper delivered, and as I twisted the lever to unlock the dead bolt, my breath caught.

  As wonderful as my relationship with Gabriel was, it still rankled that he never stayed the night. No matter how late the hour, he always got dressed and left. I never asked where it was he had to go, and he did not offer to tell me. This was the part of his life that I wasn’t ready to hear about. In reality I suspected my ignorance could fill an area the size of Alaska, and I knew if I asked, Gabriel would willingly fill in the blanks, but not until I asked him to. So he always left me with a lingering good-bye at my front door, and I playfully flashed him some skin before returning to snuggle in the warmth he left behind.

  But last night that hadn’t happened. I’d fallen asleep, and Gabriel had obviously decided not to wake me to tell me he was leaving.

  So how come the dead bolt was still locked?

  The only way to operate the mechanism was by hand from the inside or with a key from the outside. My purse was sitting on the hall table, and my set of keys clearly visible. I went back to the kitchen and opened the pantry. The spare key was hanging on the hook where I had put it after retrieving it from under the mat.

  A frown furrowed my brow as I returned to the front door and stared at the dead bolt.

  Snapping my fingers, I told myself I was a total idiot as the answer came to me. Of course! Even though there was no one to witness him coming and going—unless you count wildlife, and there was no way of knowing how many of them would gladly trash my reputation—Gabriel must have left by the back door.

  However, a tug confirmed it, too, was locked. Shit! How the hell had he gotten out without unlocking either door? Surely not through a window? A quick check put that theory to rest. All my ground floor windows were secure.

  This was going to bug the crap out of me all day, and there was no way I could hold off asking about it until I saw him again. At times I am cursed with the most awful “wait” problem. I got my cell phone and lit up his number.

  “Rowan? Is everything okay?”

  I was glad I’d caught him while he was still awake. “Yes, everything’s fine although . . . I need to ask you a question.”

  “Okay, ask away.”

  “How did you relock the door after you left this morning?”

  Payback is a bitch. It’s not often I can stump Gabriel, but this was one of those times. I listened with my own smirk, picturing his face as his brain went into spasms trying to come up with something plausible.

  “Look, you might as well tell me,” I said quietly, before hearing him exhale in a long sigh. This was not a good sign, and suddenly I understood the reason for his silence. “Oh shit!” I exclaimed. “This is in Alaska, isn’t it?” Gabriel found my descriptive euphemism for the part of his life I knew nothing about highly amusing.

  “Yeah, it is,” he confirmed softly.

  “Aww, fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” My apology made him chuckle.

  “No, it’s okay. It was bound to come up sooner or later.”

  I hesitated for all of three seconds before jumping in. “So am I right in thinking you can get in and out of places without needing a key?”

  He hesitated a moment more. “Yes, I can.”

  “Anywhere?” Even though it was wrong, I was intrigued.

  “Pretty much, as long as I’ve first been invited.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but put it down to my general ignorance of breaking and entering. “Could you get into the White House?”

  He laughed. “No, I’ve never received an invitation to the White House.”

  “Oh.” I was disappointed.

  “Would Buckingham Palace make up for it?”

  I almost dropped my phone. “You’ve been invited to Buckingham Palace?”

  “Not officially.”

  I was busy trying to sort through the ramifications of his answer when Gabriel slid the subject away from majestic homes. “By the way, you look gorgeous when you’re asleep,” he murmured, totally disrupting my thought pattern, “and I’m sorry I didn’t wake you. I won’t do it again if it displeases you.”

  I sighed. There wasn’t anything he could do that would displease me. “Oh, that’s okay,” I told him, “at least now I won’t have to bother getting an extra key made for you.”

  “You have the most unique way of seeing things, Rowan.”

  The chuckle that filled my ear this time was flavored with something more than humor, something very sexual. I decided to let him get some rest.

  “Good night, Gabriel, sleep well.”

  CHAPTER 24

  I drank my coffee and considered all the ramifications of the explanation I’d just been given. It didn’t matter how I looked at it, every angle brought me back to the same conclusion and confirmed my initial speculations about my boyfriend.

  Gabriel was a criminal.

  I think deep down I’d known it would come to this, but a part of me was reluctant to let go of the unrealistic hope that he was a wealthy recluse, the black sheep of a very snobby European aristocratic family whose members rubbed elbows with royalty. Especially after that comment about Buckingham Palace.

  You really didn’t believe that, did you?

  Maybe . . . maybe not. But now I was left with only one reason Gabriel would possess the skill to get through a locked door without a key. It explained a lot and told me nothing at all. And while I might not be ready to openly discuss what else was hidden in that Alaska-sized area of his life, it didn’t mean I wasn’t above taking little side trips on my own looking for answers.

  “My boyfriend is a criminal.”

  Saying the words out loud, sharing them with the kitchen appliances, filled me with an odd sense of relief. And it explained a lot. Gabriel’s cars, his killer, all-black wardrobe, and the $50,000-plus Rolex he wore. Yeah, I looked that one up online. It also supported Gabriel’s reluctance to tell me what he actually did for a living, not to mention his odd statement about keeping me safe. Safe from what? He hadn’t been specific, but
the fact he’d even mentioned my safety in the first place was warning enough.

  And, sadly, I also understood why he expected the truth to make a difference in my feelings. Considering all the risks involved, even the possibility of prison, how could it not? The more I thought about it, the more confident I became in my assumptions. And Gabriel didn’t work alone. The odd behavior of the good-looking trio we met after the movies that night was a red flag waving. They were all probably part of a sophisticated crime syndicate because, whatever else, they definitely didn’t look like your typical neighborhood gangbangers.

  I’ll admit the only thing I knew about gangs is what I’d seen on TV and read in the papers. Obviously Gabriel wasn’t in with some East L.A. posse, but I couldn’t say the same about a European connection. I don’t know if they have gangs in Norway, but I don’t see why not. People are pretty much the same the world over when it comes to what side of the law you choose to stand on. But I got the distinct impression that any gang affiliations he had wouldn’t be Scandinavian in origin. For one thing, Gabriel had told me he hadn’t lived in Norway since he was a child.

  It seemed more likely, in my wild guesswork, that any criminal connection would involve something like the Russian mob. Especially when I thought about Aleksei. I’ve seen Eastern Promises, and Nikolai Luzhin could kick the ever-loving shit out of one of Tony Soprano’s boys any day.

  But there was always the possibility I was way off base. One thing all gangs, and Russian gangs in particular, had in common was a fondness for tattoos. Tattoos not only told your life history, they were a declaration of loyalty. Gabriel had none. His skin was perfectly smooth and totally unblemished. No tats, no scars, not even a mole or a freckle. If he was involved in any type of gang, then it was one that required no ostentatious artwork as proof of allegiance, or else he was high enough up the food chain that a tattoo was unnecessary.