Drawn to the Vampire (Blood and Absinthe, Book 4)

by Chloe Hart

  “I probably don’t want to know what that is, do I?”

  “Nothing to shock your innocence. I catalogued his rare book collection.”

  “Hm. You’re a man of many talents, Mr. Cadris. So when are we leaving?”

  “Now, if you like. I’ve made all the arrangements. We can take your rental car and leave it at the airfield. I’ve hired someone to drive it back to London for you.”

  “Wow. You really think of everything, don’t you? Are you sure you can just…up and leave like this? Your Vice-Chancellor doesn’t mind?”

  He shrugged. “Merton wasn’t exactly thrilled, but he’s used to me by now. Once in a while I get restless and take a trip somewhere. He’ll need to take a couple of lectures for me, but there are only a few days left before the end of term.”

  “Did you tell him why you were leaving?”

  “No. He had a bee in his bonnet last night about some vision he’d had, something about a mysterious female stranger. So I decided not to tell him that I’m leaving because of a mysterious female stranger. He thinks I’m going to Prague to do some research.”

  “Oh. But what if you—”

  At that moment a tiny wavelet broke at her feet, leaving behind a small white shell on the damp sand. Kit stooped to pick it up, and when she straightened Luke grabbed her arm.

  “Hey! What are you—”

  “Look,” he said, pointing offshore. There was a group of rocks several yards away, surrounded by the ocean on all sides. On the largest was a small gray seal.

  The seal was looking straight at them with wide, deep, and disconcertingly human eyes.

  “How lovely,” Kit breathed.

  “Make a wish,” Luke ordered her.

  She looked at him in surprise. “Huh?”

  “That shell you picked up. It landed at your feet the same time the seal appeared. A gift from the sea, and a seal within sight. Don’t you know your fairy tales? There’s powerful magic within reach. Make a wish! Legend has it that whatever you ask for will be granted.”

  The shell fit perfectly into her palm. Kit closed her fingers around it and returned the seal’s solemn regard.

  “I don’t read fairy tales.”

  “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” Luke murmured. “But it won’t hurt to make a wish. Go on, Kit.”

  Daughter of the sea, Kit thought to herself, and wondered where she’d heard that phrase. The sleek gray head was tilted to the side, the seal’s expression thoughtful and unafraid as she looked back at Kit. Her eyes were dark pools of quiet intelligence.

  Kit’s heart ached at the sight of such beauty and innocence.

  “I wish you joy, Daughter of the Sea,” she said impulsively, squeezing her hand around the shell. “I wish you a long life and many children.” Then she raised her arm and threw the shell as far as she could, out into the waters it had come from.

  It disappeared beneath the waves. In the same instant the seal raised her head, made a sound that Kit could almost understand, and dove into the ocean behind the rock.

  Kit took a deep breath and glanced at Luke. Now that the moment was over she felt a little silly.

  He just looked at her, his face shadowed.

  “What?” she asked defensively. “I know I could have wished for anything…” Like to get Peter back, she thought with a sudden flash of regret.

  No, she told herself firmly. Never regret a generous impulse, her mother had told her once. We humans have so few of them.

  Something about the vampire’s gaze was making her uncomfortable. “Stop looking at me like that,” she said crossly. “It’s too late to change the wish now. And I’ll bet that story is just an old wives’ tale.”

  “That’s possible, of course. Still, you passed up an opportunity to ask for magical help, and frankly, we might need it before we’re done. Do you have any idea what we’re getting ourselves into?”

  For some reason, the fact that he used the word we was strangely comforting.

  “Probably not,” she said cheerfully. Maybe she hadn’t made a very smart wish, but her heart was lighter, somehow, after her encounter with the seal. “But I’m still going.” She smiled at him. “I even have a plan.”

  Luke fell back a step and gestured back the way they’d come. “After you. Do I dare ask what your plan consists of?”

  Kit began to make her way up the rocky path. “It mostly consists of you,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Our deal was that I would conduct you safely to the land of the dead,” he reminded her. “What else did you have in mind? I might want to renegotiate my payment.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Kit assured him, scrambling up the last few feet to the path along the cliff’s edge. “It’s such a little thing. I’m sure you’ll agree it ought to be included in the original price.”

  “I see,” said Luke, who’d finished the climb as well and was now standing beside her. “Why don’t you tell me more about this little thing?”

  “The Gem of Fanor,” Kit said, trying to sound casual and confident. “You stole it from the land of the dead. I thought it would be a nice gesture if you returned it. Specifically, if you told the king of the dead that I convinced you to return it.”

  Luke started to walk back towards his tower. Kit followed, taking two steps for every one of the vampire’s long strides.

  “A little thing, you call it. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to steal that damn—”

  “Absolutely. Quite a feat. My cousin sounded very impressed when she told me about it. Really, you’re a legend in your own time.”

  “For someone asking a favor, you’re pretty free with the sarcasm.” He hesitated. “All the same, I was never able to use the Gem for its intended purpose, so I find myself inclined to accede to your request. On one condition.”

  Kit glanced at him sideways. “What is it?” she asked suspiciously. Facing forward as he was, his face was completely hidden by the black hood.

  “Just a little addition to my payment. Not even an addition. A clause in our contract, if you will. Something we never specified and that I don’t want you arguing about when the time comes.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of this.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Just that I can take my blood from any place I choose.”

  She frowned. “You mean if we’re in another country?”

  “No, Kit. I mean anywhere on your body.”

  Kit felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. They walked in silence until they reached the tower.

  She composed herself as best she could before turning to face the vampire, who had taken off his hood in the shadow of the building. He was looking at her with a particularly evil grin.

  “I thought the neck was considered traditional,” she said cautiously, glad that at least her voice was calm and steady.

  “It is,” Luke said. “But I’m not.”

  Kit felt herself blushing from head to foot. She couldn’t help imagining Luke’s mouth on forbidden parts of her body, parts of her body that no man’s mouth, and particularly no long, sharp, deadly fangs, had ever been near. The worst part was, she knew it wasn’t only embarrassment that had her heart pounding.

  Suddenly she was angry.

  “You did this on purpose,” she said, glaring at him. “Now I have all these images in my head, images I’ll probably never be able to get rid of, and you put them there. Well, you know what? I don’t need the Gem of Fanor. I’ll find some other way to save Peter. If you think for one second—”

  “It won’t hurt, you know. No matter where I bite you.”

  “I don’t care about that! Well, yes I do, but that’s not the point here. The point is…”

  “Yes?”

  “The point is no. A big, fat no. You will not take your blood from any place you want. Call me old-fashioned, but we’ll be sticking to the neck. Is that clear?”

  Luke was looking at her appraisingly. “You�
��re absolutely lovely when you blush, did you know that? Some women get all blotchy. Not you. Just a nice rosy glow.”

  Kit folded her arms. “Is that clear?”

  Luke folded his arms. “You really mean to say you’ll let your only brother languish forever in the land of the dead just because you’re repressed?”

  “Repressed? Are you crazy? This isn’t about repression. I do plenty of wild, crazy things with normal, human men!” This wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t have to know it. “This biting thing might be sexual for you, but it isn’t for me. It’s just something horrible I have to do to save my brother, and when it’s over I’m going to do everything I can to wipe you out of my memory banks forever. I hear hypnosis works great for that.”

  Luke only smiled lazily. “If you’re going to wipe out the experience anyway, then why not just give me what I want? You don’t even know where I’ll decide to take my payment. I may go for the neck after all, just to surprise you. Maybe I only brought the subject up because it’s fun to tease you.”

  Suddenly Kit felt deflated. She backed up a couple of steps and looked at him.

  “Fun, huh? Must be nice for you. None of this is fun for me. In a way, though, maybe it’s a good thing this happened. I was almost starting to trust you, to think of you as an ally. It’s good to be reminded of what you really are. And you’re right. The location of the bite won’t make the experience any worse, because nothing could. So I guess I accept your condition after all. I’d appreciate it if you’d go get the damn Gem and whatever else you need. I’ll be waiting in my car at the gate.”

  And with that she turned and walked away.

  Chapter Five

  A few hours later, flying over the English Channel, Luke found himself asking a question he’d rarely asked in the four centuries of his existence.

  Why was he such an arse?

  Luke was used to taking what he wanted and apologizing later, if at all. In more than four hundred years he hadn’t experienced any real guilt over being what he was. There were times he positively reveled in his dark existence, when the pleasures of being a vampire outweighed everything else.

  Not that there hadn’t been any pain during those long years. Lately, especially, his lost humanity had begun pulling at him, filling him with longing for the things that were forbidden to him now. Sometimes the pain of that longing seemed almost unbearable. It was that pain that had led to his quest.

  But all that was personal pain. Selfish pain, he admitted reluctantly, born out of his own frustrated desires.

  What he was feeling now was different.

  It was that damn wish, he thought savagely, glancing at Kit in spite of himself. She was sitting on the opposite side of the plane, looking out the window with her chin cupped in her hand, her short golden hair shining even in the dim light of the cabin.

  Her generosity had been so impulsive, so obviously an expression of who she was. And now she was sitting there looking so young and vulnerable, and at the same time so full of courage and strength and determination…

  God help him, he wanted to protect her, fight for her, take care of her.

  What the hell was happening to him?

  It was a desire to stop it, whatever it was, that had caused him to impose his little condition on Kit in exchange for the Gem. Her own reaction had confirmed he’d done the right thing. She’d said herself she was starting to trust him. So he’d given her a harsh reminder of who he was: a vampire with a taste for blood…and other things. It was better for both of them that she not forget that.

  So why was he feeling all this sodding guilt, for Christ’s sake? Why was he wishing he’d allowed Kit to start trusting him, letting that trust turn into—what? Companionship?

  He didn’t even know what that would feel like. He’d been alone for so long—by choice as well as necessity. Merton Ambrose was the closest thing he had to a real friend.

  Well, there was no use crying over spilt milk. He’d done it, Kit was royally pissed at him, mission accomplished.

  Time to move on.

  Still, the guilt he continued to feel, however unnecessary and unwelcome, might have been the reason for what he said to the driver of the car that met them at the private airfield outside Paris.

  “Hotel Fontaine,” were his words, met with a respectful “Oui, Monsieur,” as the limousine left the tarmac.

  The Fontaine was one of the most elegant hotels in Paris. Something of a well-kept secret, it was tucked away on a quiet street in the Marais, near the Place des Vosges. Luke had originally planned to stay the night at a less exclusive address, but when he’d opened his mouth to tell the driver where they were going, he’d made the mistake of glancing at the small blond girl beside him.

  A journey to the underworld was a chancy endeavor at best, and they could easily end up dead—or worse. Might as well sleep on silk sheets until then.

  They’d driven in silence for forty-five minutes and had reached the outskirts of Paris when Kit cleared her throat. It was the first time she’d spoken to him since she’d walked away from him at the tower.

  “I thought you said the portal was in a cemetery,” she said stiffly.

  “It is,” he said just as stiffly, trying not to show his relief that she was talking to him again. “But portals like that aren’t open all the time. There’s a man we can go to who will know exactly when it will open next. In the meantime we’ll need a place to stay, unless you were planning to wander the streets.”

  “Oh,” she said, still stiff, and remained silent the rest of the way, looking out at the nighttime scenery of Paris until they pulled up in front of a deceptively modest-looking building.

  Luke tipped the driver and waited for him to open Kit’s door. He didn’t think she’d appreciate it if he performed that service for her.

  This was confirmed when she brushed past him into the hotel. She took a seat in the small, graciously appointed lobby while he went to the front desk.

  “Monsieur Cadris! So glad to have you with us again.”

  The man behind the desk was an old acquaintance, and Luke was relieved. They had no reservation, after all, and the Fontaine was usually booked well in advance. But after a brief consultation and a discreet exchange of Euros, Luke and Kit were led to a small, elegant suite on the ground floor. There was a fireplace and two queen-sized beds—Luke had been very clear on that point, figuring he’d annoyed Kit enough for one day. A set of French doors opened onto the hotel’s private garden.

  * * *

  In spite of herself, Kit was impressed. The room was so lovely, and Luke was so good with all the hotel people…

  She stopped herself right there. No way was she falling for the whole vampires-are-suaver-than-James-Bond thing. That was just a stereotype, and she wasn’t turning into a vampire groupie. Especially after Luke had made it clear he wasn’t exactly interested in her fine mind and sparkling conversation.

  Although she did give him credit for getting separate beds.

  While Luke was carrying on a conversation with the bellboy in fluent French, Kit wandered over to the marble fireplace. A fire had been laid but not lit, and Kit struck one of the long matches on the mantelpiece and set it to the newspaper and tinder beneath the heavy logs.

  The fire crackled immediately into life. Kit backed away a few steps, watching the flames, and bumped into a rock hard body.

  “Sorry,” she said quickly, avoiding Luke’s eyes. Her heart was pounding.

  Damn it, she thought to herself as she went to the window. Things felt more awkward now than when she’d first walked through the vampire’s door. She bit her lip.

  “All right, I’ve had it,” she exploded suddenly, spinning around. Luke was over by the wardrobe, unpacking the leather suitcase he’d brought from Wales.

  He started at the sound of her voice and looked at her warily. “Have you, then? What have I done now?”

  “No, that’s just it. Staying angry at you is taking up mental energy I need for other thin
gs. So I’ll be the bigger person here and apologize.”

  He stared at her. “You’re apologizing to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re apologizing to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though I was the one who acted like a jerk.”

  “Like a vampire,” she corrected. “I guess I should have expected it.”

  Luke looked at her in exasperation, which Kit thought was a little unfair, considering she was giving him a free pass on the whole bite-me-wherever-you-like proposal.

  “How have you survived this long, Kit? You’re too damn nice to live, and considering where we’re going, that’s a serious problem. Thank God you’re going to have me with you. You’re worse than that idiot Persephone, you know that? One soulful look from Hades and you’d volunteer for exile in the underworld to be his queen.”

  “Hey!” she said indignantly. “I’m not like that at all. I’m not volunteering for anything, and I’m not some sappy do-gooder or whatever you think I am. I’m just suggesting a truce while we’re working together. We do have to work together, remember? The least we can do is be civil. Or at least, I can be civil and you can restrain yourself from lewd conversational topics. I mean, I’ll forgive you for the last one, but I don’t want any more of them. Deal?”

  Luke strode forward until he was only a foot away from her. Kit held her ground, wondering what was going on, but then Luke fell back again, shaking his head like a man defeated.

  “Deal,” he said, and his voice sounded resigned. “You’re too much for me, you know that? In spite of all the reasons I’ve given you not to, you’re determined to treat me like an ally. But it’ll be your own damn fault if you get hurt in the process.”

  Kit wasn’t sure exactly what he was driving at, but it sounded like he agreed with her truce proposal. “Whatever,” she said. “We agree to be civil and avoid twisted sexual overtones. Although really, that second one is mostly you. It’s not much of an effort for me.”