9. It’s Just One Dinner #2
I search for a menu, but there isn’t one.
Micah has already decided what I’ll be eating.
I tamp down the flare of anger that rises at his arrogance.
It’s not worth the fight. And I’m just as mad that I already know it will be exactly what I would choose for myself.
It’s a subtle manipulation, a power play.
He’s proving he still knows me and my tastes.
I choose to let it roll off me like water.
The waiter appears so suddenly that I almost think he must be a Vamp. He smoothly pours wine for me. Red, to match the blood that’s appeared in Micah’s glass. He salutes me, and we both drink silently.
‘Can I tell you how utterly stunning you are?’ Micah purrs, leaning back, glass held idly in one hand as if he’s forgotten it exists. I can’t believe I’d ever forgotten the effect his voice has always had on me.
‘You’ve never needed my permission before,’ I say in answer. I’m having trouble staying neutral with the way he’s looking at me, dark eyes glimmering.
And was it any wonder I mistook his feelings?
I think bitterly, plastering a bright smile on my red lips and watching his eyes drop to them.
That’s new, and I don’t think I’m imagining the sexual undercurrent beneath his words tonight.
Maybe the red dress was a step too far. Damn my need to prove myself to him after all this time.
Thankfully, the waiter returns to place a small plate in front of me before disappearing again. I expect something fancy, like escargot, but it’s cheesy breadsticks. Sure, they’re fancier than Olive Garden, but I’ll bet they taste the same.
When I first came to the Coven, it unnerved me to eat in front of a being who didn’t. But Micah always seemed fascinated by what foods I liked; asking me questions as I ate, as if it helped him remember what it had been like for him before he was Turned. It became a game we played.
I wonder if he’s remembering those times as well. If he’ll ask me to describe the taste and texture as I pick one up and take a bite. The flavors melt in my mouth, and I swallow a groan.
‘You’ve been busy the last seven years,’ he says instead.
I stay silent, eating to keep my hands and mouth busy.
His long fingers idly twist the stem of his glass, the liquid mesmerizing as it swirls around, a mini maelstrom. ‘The police academy, making detective, forging the- what do you refer to it as?- PPS. Getting friendly with Werewolves.’
I am so not going there with him. Either explaining that it’s part of my job to forge alliances and trust between species. Or that it’s not his business who I fuck.
‘Keeping tabs on me, I see.’ Okay, maybe I am going there. ‘You know, Micah, you could have come to me at any time as leader of the New York Vampire Coven. Instead, you sent Lila to liaise with my department.’
His second-in-command and I have always gotten on well. I’ve also always been aware she reports to him. I also know that he doesn’t need her to be fully cognizant of everything that goes on in his city or my life. It’s why I’ve never bothered to hide my private life.
‘I didn’t think you would appreciate my presence,’ he says easily, raising his glass to his lips. If he were human, he would shrug his shoulders.
Now it’s my turn to watch his mouth, the tips of his fangs visible as blood tips from the cut crystal between sensual lips, sliding down the strong column of his throat.
‘After you left so abruptly.’ My eyes catch on his at the seemingly benign words.
‘I had to leave.’ Anger and shame wash through me in equal measure, and I grip my wine glass so hard I think I may smash it.
We both know why, and I’m not about to relive it and humiliate myself all over again.
I can’t stop the heat that flares across my cheeks.
Carefully placing the glass onto the table between us, I take a slow, deliberate bite of the bread, letting the cheese and garlic flavors distract me for a moment.
‘You were never a prisoner, Evangeline.’ Calm, measured words as he watches me swallow. ‘You were free to leave as you chose.’
‘Eve,’ I say automatically.
He merely gives me his signature half-smile. I never would have left if he hadn’t rejected me, and he damn well knows it. I can’t figure out his game, and my heart squeezes painfully at what seems to be callous cruelty in making me relive it over dinner.
‘And is your life everything you hoped it would be?’ He leans forward with an intensity that has me flustered. Galaxies swirl across the expanse of his night-kissed eyes.
You are a grown woman. You are a freaking detective. I repeat it like a mantra.
‘Yes. And no.’ I sigh as I finish my starter with effort. My appetite has rapidly diminished, taken over by butterflies.
Micah had sheltered me from what he thought would scare me, overwhelm me, or be too much for a traumatized human teenager who lost her whole world in one night.
But I know he also showed me parts of himself he didn’t share with his own Coven.
It made me feel special, valued, wanted.
In return, I wanted to share every part of myself with him.
Looking at him now, he’s staring at me as if, I don’t know, he still cares.
As if the world revolves around the two of us again, lost in our own tiny universe, past and present blurring around the edges.
‘Evangeline. Eve,’ he amends with a disarming smile, fangs flashing. ‘You didn’t have to leave to pursue your dreams.’
Of helping others who couldn’t help themselves.
Micah never teased me for the cliché of wanting to join the police because my parents were brutally murdered in front of me.
He told me I could either let it swallow me whole or use my pain, my grief, and my trauma to prevent others from going through what I had in the days and months after.
‘That wasn’t why I left, and you damn well know it,’ I hiss as heat and color flood my cheeks again. My shame is swept aside in the anger of his re-framing what happened that night in his bedroom, to make him less of a villain.
Except…he was never the villain. Not to me. And maybe it’s time to put the past in a coffin and nail it firmly shut. For far too long, it’s been a ghost shadowing my every step and decision.
‘Eve, I’m sorry,’ Micah says softly. ‘I never wanted to hurt you.’ His face twists into a grimace, hand clenched tightly around the glass he’s still holding. It shatters, spilling blood across the white linen.
Recrimination, guilt, and the same shame I feel at how that night played out flashes across his face.
‘You were never the villain, Micah. It’s not your fault I got the wrong idea.’ I squeeze the words past the razor in my throat and the knot lodged in my stomach.
Before I can take a breath, he’s standing over me. The stars in his eyes gutter, devastation on his face as he searches mine for the truth of my words.
Micah tips my head up with one finger, his other winding into my hair as he bends down.
I stand as if pulled by an invisible string, not daring to breathe.
I have no idea what is happening. I can’t think straight with him this close.
Dinner alone with him was a terrible, unwise idea.
I’m not nearly as over him as I’ve told myself.
‘Evangeline, I…’ His power wraps around us, an echo of the past.
‘I love Jake,’ I blurt out, stumbling out of his embrace.
My wrist flashes and dings. My micro is on silent, my contacts off. Only something important would override that protocol.
It’s a holo from my partner. My heart pounds as I blink to accept it, reeling in my tangled emotions.
Tim’s image flares in front of me, showing part of an alley behind him. The fear that immediately skates down my spine is all too real.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he says without preamble.
‘Another one?’ I ask, not daring to look at Micah standing behind the holo.
‘Not exactly. I just got here. The tech bots are here as well. Ruby is on her way. Eve, you need to get down here right now.’ I can’t read his blue eyes, but I hear the urgency in his words.
‘It is another murder? Is the vic human? How did they die?’ I ask in a rush.
‘You’ll see when you get here. I’ll flicker you the coordinates.’
I turn my contacts on and push aside my feed so only my flickers show.
‘On my way,’ I tell my partner, already turning to walk across the restaurant.
‘And Eve,’ Tim says before I can disconnect. ‘Bring Micah.’