“This would be a first. It seems we’re still in Q&A mode, and I believe it’s my turn. I’m not letting you off the hook. You never answered my question, and I admit I’m curious.” He walked to the thermostat and pressed a button to crank up the heat. “What did you expect my home to be like?”
Oh, that question. “In truth? I expected a Gothic building tucked away in a dark alley somewhere with black, velvet curtains and a coffin in the center of the floor.” Not a curved wood staircase with a skylight above it and wide planked, wood floors with Aubusson rugs. The home was bright and airy, welcoming.
He laughed and her whole body responded to the sound. His blue eyes locked on hers. They were beautiful, and right now, devouring her, trying to delve beneath the surface. Although not an inch of her skin showed, she felt naked and vulnerable under his scrutiny. “Sounds scary. You have quite the imagination, not to mention one hell of a sense of humor, which is what’s going to get you through this ordeal. Please let me know if I can get you anything.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, not used to him being nice to her. Mulroney’s usual prickly demeanor she could handle. It made her one-sided crush easier to navigate, but this attentive and gracious host was a different story entirely. And now it seriously messed with her head. She decided to change the subject. “I understand you’re not allowed to discuss the case with me, but can you give me any idea as to how you plan to find Brooke?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t imagine what must be going through your head. I wish I had something to tell you to put your mind at ease, but so far, there’s not much to go on.” He pulled out his cell and glanced at the screen before his eyes met hers again. “A group of agents went over to Lawrence’s residence. The place was empty. No surprise there.”
“Now what? There must be some way to find out where he's taken her? Don’t you have any solid leads?” she asked, trying to tamp down the sadness and fear threatening to overwhelm her.
“We plan on questioning your attacker Damon Greystone the second he’s out of his coma. You can rest assured, if and when he does wake up, I’ll be the first one he talks to. The hospital staff has been asked to notify me or Dubrosky immediately. I’m meeting with Alex, Cayden, and my partner first thing in the morning. We plan on going over all the interviews of the people at that party to see what we can come up with.” His phone buzzed. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Mulroney walked away, nodding his head, and she tried to listen to his conversation, but she couldn’t pick up on anything.
After several agonizing minutes, she began to think the worst.
He soon came back and ran a hand along the stubble on his chin. “There might’ve been something to your keychain trick. That was Alex. A hotel manager from the La Quinta Inn on Route 3 in Clifton confirmed that a vampire and a young woman matching Brooke’s description checked into the hotel yesterday. They checked out some time in the middle of the night. He paid by credit card with a name I didn’t recognize. He’s going straight to the Council and asking them to issue a search warrant to get the owner attached to the credit card.”
To think Brooke could be this close right here in Clifton filled her with nervous energy. There had to be more she could do. “What now?”
“Our guys are at the hotel room, checking it for clues. They’ll let us know the moment they discover anything.” He glanced at her phone before his gaze met hers. “You should probably notify your friends and let them know you won’t be coming home tonight, but you’re not to tell them where you are. I’ll explain why later. An unmarked car will be parked outside the coven from now on to keep them safe. But they don’t need to know that.”
She needed to give the girls a heads up to keep them protected, but it seemed Mulroney wouldn’t let her get into all the sordid details about Brooke’s kidnapping just yet. She picked up her phone and dialed Saje. She answered on the first ring.
“Gillian? Where are you? How come you never made it to the ritual?”
“I’m fine. I’ll explain everything. How about the rest of the girls? Are they nearby?”
“Yeah, they’re standing right next to me. We just got back. We’re in the kitchen attacking the fridge. Why? I’m picking up on some serious tense vibes from you, girl.”
Gillian let out a deep breath and continued, “Go somewhere quiet where no one can hear you.” After she filled her in, she went on to explain the danger involved. “You need to put extra spells and charms on all the doors and windows. I’m staying at a friend’s tonight.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Saje whispered.
“I’m fine. I’ll explain the rest in the morning. Promise me you will do what I say. Saje?”
“Fine, I promise.”
She sighed with relief. “Thanks. I’m exhausted. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
Gillian ended the call, glanced over at Mulroney, and let out a deep sigh. “What happens tomorrow? What should I do?”
“You go about your routine. Do everything you normally would. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. I’ll drop you off at work and pick you up. Someone will be there to protect you at all times from now on.”
“What now?” she asked, praying the lead panned out and they found Brooke.
He frowned. “We wait.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say something to that effect. My phone’s about to die. Where can I plug in?” She walked to her suitcase and pulled out her charger.
Mulroney pointed to an outlet next to the dining room table. She bent to plug in her phone and her stomach growled loudly. Embarrassed, she tried to shrug it off. She always kept snacks in her purse, which should hold her over until morning.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t remember. It’s been such a crazy day.” She glanced down at her leggings. All she wanted to do was take a shower, get into her PJ’s, and collapse in bed.
He edged closer to her, and in her sneakers, she had to crane her neck to look up at his face. It was almost a crime for a male to be that good looking. “I can cook you something here.”
Did he just say he could cook her something? In the seven months she’d dated her last boyfriend, the most he ever did was make her a PB and J. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account.”
His brows shot up. “Let’s face it, Miss Howe; you’ve been trouble since the day we met. I’ve grown to expect it by now.” With a twinkle in his eye, he motioned to the kitchen. “I’m sure we can find something to eat here.”
When he flicked on the lights, she stopped in her tracks and gaped. Oh boy. Don’t even get her started on the oven. He had a friggin’ Viking. From the subzero fridge to the enormous marble center island, and tall, white wood cabinets, she imagined Joanna and Chip Gaines would have a field day. White moldings and raised panel wainscoting decorated every wall. The exposed brick behind the stove added a casual elegance.
“This is quite the kitchen. Do you cook a lot?” she asked, desperate to take her mind off her pain.
She imagined he entertained his fair share of women here. What about his friends and co-workers?
“Not so much for myself anymore but for friends on occasion. Vampires don’t need to eat to sustain themselves as humans do. I mostly eat for routine, and of course, for pleasure. Let me get you something to drink.” Her breath caught from the intense look in his eyes. “Perhaps you’d like something from the wine fridge?”
“I could use something strong.” She walked to the island and took a seat at a leather barstool.
“I have just the thing.” He crossed into a sumptuous living room with a crème colored sectional sofa and two blue, silk-covered Chippendale chairs. Stacked with books, a glass coffee table was arranged in front of the couch.
After he walked to a wall of windows that led to a set of French doors, he checked the locks, glanced outside, and shut the blinds. “I don’t believe we were followed.”
She sighed
and started to relax, trying hard to erase the bloody images of Salem from her mind. With his crazy driving, she would’ve been surprised—and kind of impressed—if anyone had been able to follow them. “Hmm, the first good news I’ve heard all day. Have you lived here long?” Everything looked so shiny and new, like he’d just moved in. But then again, in his line of work, he probably wasn’t home much.
When he turned back to face her, he appeared more at ease. Maybe being in his home made him less guarded. “I bought this place just under a year ago and did most of the renovations myself,” he said with a note of pride in his voice. “I lived in a much smaller apartment a few blocks away for years, but with gentrification, this area has changed a lot and become trendy. This place came on the market, and well, it held a certain intrigue. Before vampires came out in the open in the seventies, I was forced to move a lot. I wanted to finally make a home for myself.”
“I can see how you would.” She could relate. She’d been living at the coven since her mom died. While she considered it her home, it was high time to get a place of her own. “Did you decorate it yourself?” she asked, taking in the contemporary artwork and the tasteful knickknacks artfully displayed around the room.
“I have a decorator friend who put the place together for me.” He walked to a liquor cart and poured amber-colored liquid from a crystal decanter into two snifters.
A male that looked like him probably had lots of female friends falling all over themselves to help him in a pinch. She might not live in a luxury townhouse, or have a decorator on hand, but the things she treasured most revolved around family, friends, and her cat. She swallowed hard, and it finally hit her—Salem was never coming home. An unexpected explosion of anger and sorrow ripped through her and made it hard to breathe.
“Miss Howe? Are you okay? You got pale all of a sudden.” Before she could respond, he made his way back over to her and handed her a glass. “You should drink this. It’s Glen Livet.”
The liquid swirled in her shaking hands. “Thanks.” She took a long, slow sip. The scotch burned the back of her throat, and then, warmth spread from her head to her toes. “This is smooth.”
“It will help you sleep.”
“I could probably drink the whole bottle and still have trouble sleeping.” She prayed the images in her head wouldn’t keep her awake. She felt like a walking disaster, a danger to everyone and everything around her. “I have no idea what I’m going to tell Brooke’s family and friends.”
Lifting the snifter to his lips, he leaned against the counter. The man had amazing lips, full and lush, perfect for kissing. Where did that come from? It had to be the stress. “You have to be very careful what you tell them,” he murmured, breaking into her thoughts. “Are they local?”
“Her parents live in Philadelphia. Her younger brother lives here in Jersey. I’m sure he’s going to freak out when he doesn’t hear from her. They’re very close.”
“I would let them know what’s going on, just make sure they keep it very quiet for their safety, as well as Brooke’s. Feel free to give them my number. I’m sure they’ll have questions.” His gaze narrowed. “What about you? Is there anyone you need to call?”
Her fingers tightened around the glass. “I’m an only child. My dad’s remarried to a younger woman. I don’t see much of him these days. They live in the city, and you might say the new wife and I don’t get along.” She’d never forget the day he’d left, claiming he couldn’t handle her mom’s cancer like she’d chosen to get sick.
“No? I can’t imagine you not getting along with someone,” he said with a teasing smile.
“Hard to believe, right?” She shrugged and tried to play it off. “She’s only a few years older than me, so it’s kind of weird.”
“I see. I bet that is weird. How about your mom?”
She avoided his searching gaze and took another sip from her glass. The scotch must be doing the trick because her hands shook a bit less. “She died a few years ago.” She was surprised how easily the words fell from her lips. This was the first time she’d ever told Mulroney anything personal about herself. They didn’t exactly have that kind of relationship. Even now, talking about it made her throat tight. Tears threatened to spill over again, and at that moment, she wondered if the pain would ever go away. Maybe time couldn’t heal the wound but simply numbed the ache. She couldn’t save her mom or Salem, but she could save Brooke. She’d make sure of it.
“I’m sorry. Hell…I didn’t know,” he said, sounding sincere as he loosened his tie.
“My mom’s the reason I started my charity. Hope Club helps to raise money for families who aren’t able to pay for medical bills not covered by insurance. We’re not a huge deal yet, but we’re getting there.” This was so different than her typical interactions with him. She didn’t know what to make of this new exchange, but she was surprised at how easily she could talk to him.
His gaze seared her with so much intensity, it made her breaths shallow. Right now, she’d give anything to have Willow’s ability to read minds. For the first time since they met, she began to think this attraction might not be one-sided. But then why had he tried to ruin her reputation? “What?” She pushed her hair behind her ear, feeling self-conscious, and wished she could clear the heaviness in the air.
“Your charity sounds important, and the cause is certainly worthwhile.” His praise caught her off-guard, and she couldn’t mistake the note of admiration in his voice. As much as she hated to admit it, his words made her feel special. He bent his head so they were eye level. “I’m sure your mom would be very proud. If you put every bit of that moxie I see burning in your eyes into helping families in need, then I’d say they’re lucky to have you on their side.”
Her face flushed again, not used to receiving compliments from Mulroney of all people. “I appreciate that. Hold on, did you just say, ‘moxie’?”
He straightened. “Yeah, why?”
“People don’t talk like that anymore. They certainly don’t use words like ‘moxie,’” she said with a chuckle.
“What can I say, I’ve lived for over a hundred and fifty years, and sometimes I show my age.” His deep, raspy voice tugged at her.
“I think you just did.”
After that, neither of them said a word. If someone had told her she could have a conversation with him without throwing barbs, she would've called them a liar. She’d never been this close to him, and under the glow of the spotlights, she became transfixed by the color of his eyes. They reminded her of the Caribbean Ocean…seven shades of blue. The air snapped with sexual tension.
“Let’s get you that food.” After he finished the last of his scotch, he set his glass on the counter and turned to open the fridge. Picking up a couple of takeout cartons, he turned back around and rubbed the scruff along his jaw. “I’ve got some leftover steak and salad from yesterday’s lunch. Or if you’re in the mood for something lighter, I could make you a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup.”
Who knew Mulroney was so domestic? “Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I’m vegan. We all are at the coven. I keep it a rule not to eat anything with a face.” The bloody image of Salem’s mangled body flashed through her mind and her stomach churned. “You know what, on second thought I think I’d just like to crash.”
Sympathy flashed in his eyes. “I’ll show you to the guest room. I know this isn’t an ideal situation for either of us, but I assure you it’s the only way to keep you safe.”
His words made it clear that he didn’t want her here. Not that she could blame him. They weren’t exactly buddy, buddy, but still…She must’ve misread the vibes he’d been giving off. Setting her glass on the counter, she got to her feet. She was just about to get her suitcase when Mulroney passed her and hauled it up the staircase.
She followed him, glancing at the black and white framed photos of different locales and ancient-looking maps along the wall. Traveling seemed to be one of his hobbies. From the photos, he’d been a
ll over the world. Curious, she wanted to ask him about his travels but decided against it for now.
“Are you always such a gentleman, opening doors and carrying suitcases?” Her eyes moved to his broad shoulders and wide, muscled back, watching them flex as he walked up the stairs. Not that she was complaining. She also got a bird’s eye view of his fine muscled ass.
He glanced at her over his shoulder with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “No. Not always,” he murmured in a sultry voice, and there was no mistaking his innuendo. Every nerve ending in her body zinged to life. A delicious shiver danced along her skin. “But in matters such as this, yes. I’m old school. It comes from living a long time.”
They stopped at the landing. Decorated in the same soft shades of green and creams as the lower level, modern artwork adorned the walls up here. She could only dream about owning a home like this someday.
He walked into the bathroom and turned on the lights, and her jaw dropped. It was massive, practically the size of her entire bedroom, and decked out exactly like the kitchen in white and grey marble. The ginormous glass-enclosed shower called to her.
“It’s a rain shower,” he said, following her gaze. “There’s a soaking tub should you feel the need to indulge.”
At least she didn’t have to share a bathroom. She gulped and wondered if he indulged in long soaks with the women he brought here. Is that why he had the bathroom designed that way?
A white, terry cloth robe hung on a hook near the shower. How many female guests did he regularly entertain here? She wasn’t sure where this was all coming from, so she redirected the train of her thoughts to what was important—resting so she could replenish her magick and help find Brooke. She took a step back, and a wave of dizziness hit her hard, forcing her to lean against the wall for support. Luckily, Mulroney didn’t notice. Maybe the scotch and lack of food had been a bad idea.
“I’m glad you approve.” Without another word, he walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. She followed him, and he pointed to the room to his left. “You’ll be staying in here.” He extended his hand for her to walk in front of him, and she decided she could get used to his old-fashioned manners. Sadly, none of the men she knew as of late could be coined as gentlemen.
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