by Мишель Роуэн
and it came out sounding pinched and slightly hysterical. Then I took a deep breath of the cold morning air and looked up at him.
Thierry’s expression relaxed a little, though his jaw remained tight. “I shouldn’t have let you leave the club without me.”
I totally lost it. I started sobbing against him for a good five minutes while he held me. He kept talking,
but I couldn’t hear him. So much for staying all strong and sarcastic.
Everything was gone. Everything. All of my worldly possessions, all of my shoes and clothes and makeup and shampoo and my bed and my TV. My entire life had just been destroyed right before my eyes.
Except for my ratty bathrobe and fuzzy pink slippers. And my new red blanket that they’d have to pry out of my cold, dead hands to get back.My blanket. My new favorite possession in the world.
After I’d pulled it together enough to stop wailing, Thierry stroked the hair back off my face and looked down at me. “I need to get you out of here. There could still be hunters around, watching.”
I leaned back to look up at him. “So you think this was definitely them?”
“Of course.” He nodded grimly. “They will be disappointed to learn you were not in your apartment.”
“Guess I showed them.”
“Indeed.” He gently moved his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tears.
“If I knew you were coming by I might have rescued a nicer bathrobe. But seeing that this is now the full extent of my wardrobe . . . ” I sighed, glad I no longer had a reflection to show me exactly how hellish I looked at the moment.
I suddenly had a thought.
Out of everything I’d just lost—so much that I didn’t even know where to start—there was one thing that was up there I wouldn’t be able to replace. I felt the thick lump in my throat move down to become an ache in my chest.
“My shard,” I said quietly. “It’s gone.”
It was a gift Thierry had given to me when I’d first lost my reflection. Usually it takes years for a new vampire to lose his or her reflection, but since Thierry had used his superstrength master vampire blood to help me not die after my sire bit the biscuit, the process had been sped up for lucky ol’ me.
A shard was a special mirror vampires could see themselves in. It was also, allegedly, ridiculously expensive, and mine was my most prized possession, both for its practical use and because of the sentimental value. I took it everywhere with me, but not to take Barkley out for a quick walk, of course.
And now it was gone forever.
“Sarah,” Thierry spoke as I began to cry again. He held me tightly against him and stroked my messy hair off my face. “Everything will be fine. I promise you.”
I continued to cry. The well was not yet dry. It would make my face all red and puffy and majorly unattractive to match my new eternal nightwear from hell, but at least I wouldn’t have to look at myself.
Ever again.
“How is everything going to be fine?” I managed after a moment.
He held my face in his hands and gazed down at me with his captivating silver eyes. “I know somewhere you can stay. Somewhere you’ll be protected by someone who cares very deeply for you.”
My breath caught a little in my chest at his words. I swallowed and looked up at him while I ran the back of my hand over my face to dry it up a bit. “Is that right?”
Was this the catalyst? Was this the event that was going to make Thierry realize he wanted to be with me? That he was madly in love with me? Because if so, then this was totally worth it.
You know, in a majorly messed-up way.
“Yes,” Thierry leaned forward to kiss me lightly on my lips. “George has an extra bedroom he is willing to share for as long as necessary. I have already spoken to him on the way over.”
Going into shock again.
The tears started to pick up where they left off.
“It’s going to be fine,” Thierry assured me as he hunted in his jacket pocket for a handkerchief, which he handed to me. He patted me on my back as I blew my nose. “A few days and all will be taken care of.”
Fine, I thought.
That’s a nice little four-letter word that begins with an F.
Let’s think of another one, shall we?
“Sarah!” George exclaimed as he opened the door to his small rented house. “My little charred vampiress! Come in, come in!”
George lived three blocks away from Haven. I figure that’s why Thierry thought that it was the perfect place for me to shack up. You know, other than with him.
But beggars couldn’t be choosers. And this beggar chose to stagger into George’s place without saying a word.
Barkley padded in after me.
“I don’t remember saying anything about a dog.” George looked down at the mutt with disdain. “I don’t like dogs. Or cats. I’m a ‘none of the above’ person.”
I slumped down on the first available seat, in this case, a rather stiff, red vinyl sofa. I’d never been there before. It was small for a house. Kind of like my dearly departed apartment only with a couple of extra rooms. George had recently moved there after getting evicted from his last place. No idea why he’d been evicted. He didn’t tell me. I didn’t ask. The house was littered with moving boxes and bubble wrap as it slowly made its way into being a livable space.
“He’s not a dog. He’s a werewolf.”
“And that makes it better?”
Barkley turned around three times and flopped in a gangly pile in the corner, next to a pile of Styrofoam packing popcorn.
“It is only for a short time.” Thierry closed George’s front door behind him. “We’d appreciate if you made an exception.”
George sighed. “I have allergies. It’s not going to work.”
I burst into tears. Pretty much anything was setting the waterworks off now.
George looked stricken at my soggy reaction. “Okay, okay. The dog can stay. But I just had these rugs cleaned.”
I nodded wetly. “He’s very good. You know, he’s never once made a mess.”
Barkley whined. “Anything for you, Sarah,” George nodded. “Damn hunters. You really lost everything? Even those fabulous Jimmy Choos?”
I had one pair of Jimmies. Secondhand. Comfortable, even. They looked great with absolutely everything.
I cried harder.
He plopped down beside me and patted my arm. “But you’re okay and that’s all that matters.Mi casa es su casa . For as long as you need.” He glanced up at Thierry. “Though why you’re not staying athis place, I have no idea.”
I glanced up with surprise at Thierry. Good old George. Always had a way of putting my thoughts into words. We were like soulmates. Only . . .not .
Thierry’s lips thinned and he avoided looking at me. “It is best this way.”
And that’s all he said.
It is best this way.
And how exactly was I supposed to interpret that? Or was I supposed to interpret it at all?
I had no bloody idea.
And frankly, at that very moment, I was too exhausted to care.
George showed me into his guest room. Very small, with a bare mattress on the floor and not much else.
All things considered, it looked comfortable enough for me to crash for the next thousand years or so.
Wake me up when life gets easy again.
In other words,never .
I gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, George. Thanks for letting me stay with you.”
“For you, gorgeous? Anything.” And then he was gone, leaving me and Thierry alone.
Thierry stood by the doorway. He seemed so calm and silent it was as if he was made of stone. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my new red blanket closer to me (they’d wanted it back, but I won in the end). I wanted to demand that he elaborate on what he’d just said. Why didn’t he want me to stay at his place? His townhome was more than large enough, from what I could tell from the very few times I’d been there.
I wouldn’t be any trouble at all. Quiet as a little mouse. With tiny fangs.
Isn’t that what normal couples were supposed to do? When one of their apartments blows up, the other one takes her in?
Then again, normal couples’ apartments don’t tend to blow up.
And normal couples usually aren’t a pair of vampires with an age difference of 650-plus years.
Yeah, I guess that was a couple of strikes against us from the get-go.
I sighed, so tired I was practically swaying on my feet.
“I’ll make arrangements at a few local stores for you to visit tomorrow,” Thierry began, cutting through the silence of the room. “You will need new clothes. And to get back out in public the very next day after this incident . . . ” his throat worked as he swallowed. “It would show the hunters that they are no threat to you. As I said earlier, you will have bodyguards to ensure your safety.”
“Much as I’d love to rub those bastards’ noses in their failure to launch me off the face of the planet—” I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders “—until I get some insurance money I’m going to have to depend entirely on the kindness of strangers. I’m broke. Do you know any strangers who are my size?”
He shook his head. “I will take care of any new things you may need.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’re going to buy me a new wardrobe?”
“Would that be all right?”
“I appreciate the thought, but you really don’t have to. Me and Amy are almost the same size. I could probably borrow from—”
“I want to,” he cut me off. “Let me do this without argument, Sarah.”
I didn’t know what to say. Thierry was generous. I never would have asked him to do this, but since he was offering . . . what could I say except, “Hell yeah”? “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Sarah?”
Anything else? I shook my head, then looked up at him. “Actually, yes. Our date tomorrow. I still want it to happen, if that’s okay. I don’t want this to get in the way.”
“Are you certain?”
I nodded.
“As you wish.” Thierry leaned over to kiss my forehead. “Now, we must only wait until Nicolai leaves town. After he is gone, I know of a safe place you can stay until the rest of this nonsense blows over.”
“A safe place?”
“It is a nunnery inFrance .”
I almost laughed at that. It would have sounded hysterical, but still. Laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He didn’t look as if he was trying to be funny. “For now, you are of special interest to the hunters. Their curiosity will eventually wane and move to something new. Until then, we must be extra careful.”
“A nunnery?”
“If you would rather leave immediately, I can arrange that. I will deal with Nicolai. Your safety is the most important thing to me.”
There was silence for a moment. When I’d first met him I thought he had the most expressionless face of any man I’d ever met. But now I knew you just had to look a little closer. It wasn’t just my imagination that I saw concern slide behind his silver eyes. That worry etched a few fine lines into his forehead.
Or maybe I was just really, really tired.
And Ihad inhaled quite a bit of smoke.
Finally, I spoke. “I don’t want to go to any nunnery.”
He sighed. “Why not?”
“Because I’ll miss you.” I paused, then looked up at his painfully handsome face. “But if I go, will you visit me?”
His eyebrow arched. “Visit you?”
I shrugged and found myself, despite the horrific night I’d had, smiling at him for his completely bizarre but strangely sweet suggestion to keep me safe. “I’ll get kind of lonely, you know. With all those boring nuns. I’ll need some company.”
“Is that so?”
I nodded slowly.
“I should leave.” Thierry glanced at the door. “There are things I must do and you’ve had a very traumatic night.”
I grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pulled him toward me. Not thinking, just acting. A little spontaneous. That used to be me. I used to be spontaneous. I didn’t always think over everything I said,
everything I did—being careful to do the right thing at all times. That’s just the recent me, but not necessarily the real me.
Thierry didn’t resist. He drew nearer, leaning over to gaze directly into my eyes. My hands tangled in his black coat, and I felt the heat of his delicious body underneath.
“I was very worried about you,” he breathed against my mouth, his lips only a whisper away.
“I know.”
And then I kissed him. Full and deep and hot and open-mouthed. His fingers twined into my hair, my hands went down to his waist as I pulled him against me.
After a moment we crashed down to the mattress on the floor, and,oh yeah . Being with him like this,
touching him freely, desperately, like it hadn’t been like sinceMexico —hell, this wasbetter thanMexico —was like a glass of water after wandering through the desert for weeks.
Very refreshing.
And extremely tasty.
Enough to make a girl forget all of her problems.
I felt his hands on my bare skin, moving lower, kissing down my neck and along my collarbone, parting my bathrobe.
My own hands slid down his back, under his jacket, to slip under his shirt, trying to pull him closer against me. Aching with the need that I usually tried to ignore so as not to scare him away by how much I wanted him. But he wasn’t scared. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I arched against him, as my hands drifted lower, receiving a ragged gasp from his lips as he moved slowly down my chest, my stomach, to my—
Then he suddenly stopped. He pulled away to look up at me and I groaned out loud with frustration.
“What is it?”
He frowned, his gaze trailing off to the side of the room. “Your werewolf is staring at us.”
“My—?” I glanced to the right. Barkley sat, not four feet away, panting and wagging his tail. “Barkley!
Shoo!”
Barkley didn’t shoo. His tail began to make a “thwack, thwack” sound against the hardwood floor.
Thierry shifted slightly. “Shall I remove him from the room and—” he looked down at me and our eyes locked “—then return?”
I couldn’t help smiling at that. Here I thought this would be his excuse, yet again, to leave me all alone.
“He might need to go outside first, if you know what I mean.”
He brushed his mouth against my cheek in a knee-weakening line to the curve of my ear and whispered,
“Then I’ll be right back.”
And he stood, slowly, and with a glance down at me lying on the mattress, took Barkley out of the room.
Oh, this was very, very good.
Maybe whoever blew my apartment up was acting under strict direction from Cupid himself. It could happen. All of my earlier doubts about Thierry were starting to get all blurry and difficult to remember.
He was wonderful, giving, fabulous, perfect. And unbelievably sexy. I was a lucky, lucky girl.
And about to get even luckier.
Veronique could stick her words of wisdom. Stick them! Ha!
I smiled and then stretched out long and languidly on the mattress, raising my arms high above my head.
As soon as Thierry came back I wasso going to rock his world.
However, after waiting for a few minutes, I yawned. It had been such a long, draining, exhausting day.
Very, very, very long.
Very exhausting.
So tired.
So very tired.
No. . . I thought, but it sounded a million miles away.Don’t you dare close your eyes . . .
Zzzzz.
“And then I fell asleep,” I explained to my best friend Amy the next day. “Like Rip
Van-freaking-Winkle. And ruined what could quite possibly h
ave been the most incredible night of my life. The end.”
Amy shook her blond head in silence. “What’s a Rip Van Winkle?”
I blinked, then looked both ways as we crossed a busy intersection after visiting the fourth clothing store of the day. “He’s an old man with a long white beard who fell asleep for twenty years and missed out on some hot vampire loving.”
“What does this have to do with what happened to your apartment?”
“Nothing.”
“Isn’t that more important than this Rip Van Winkle guy?”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe you’re right.”
I was homeless. Still twitching from watching the sum total of my twenty-eight years go up in flames. The twitching could also have a lot to do with the morning phone call to my parents to tell them that I was okay. Just a little gas leak, is all. They took it like good parents should, and freaked out—long-distance style. Offered to come and get me and bring me back to my hometown for an extended stay. After I declined, my mother gave me a fifteen-minute lecture about how I needed to be more careful.
I could just imagine the lecture I’d get if I ever got around to telling them I was a vampire.
Now I was on the streets of Toronto on a brisk January day with Thierry’s Platinum American Express card in my preapproved clutches. The last thing I felt like doing today was shopping—and that’s saying something—but I’d decided to go along with the “plan” as best I could.
Some plan.
Stupid hunters.
Amy’d also freaked out when I called her earlier and told her what happened. She’d brought over some clothes for me to borrow so I wouldn’t have to go shopping in slippers and nightwear. I told her about the bodyguards. She decided that it would be worth putting our lives at risk in order to acquire some new threads. It’s all about priorities.
I wondered if the hunters in general even knew what I looked like? Did they just know me by name?Chad hadn’t recognized me until he found out my name.
It was an odd feeling knowing people wanted to kill me. “Edgy” didn’t begin to cover it. Sure, Peter had wanted to kill me. Before I turned the tables on him. He wanted to kill mebadly . And if it wasn’t for the golden horseshoe of luck I obviously had jammed up my butt that night, then I really shouldn’t have gotten out of that in one piece, nickname or no nickname.