18. Rip My Heart Out #2
A few Vamps pass us as we make our way to the elevator that will take us to the top floor.
They’re either heading to their rooms, to get blood, or just to hang out in one of the many common areas.
Those who recognize me nod; the rest ignore us.
I see none of the Vamps I was close with all those years ago.
It’s probably for the best. I have enough to handle right now without more of the past being dredged up.
Micah’s suite is separate from the other rooms, including the one that used to be mine. I wonder briefly if it’s occupied by someone else, or if he left it empty.
Only three people have access to Micah’s personal space, his inner sanctum. One is dead, and I have to assume I can still get in. I press my palm against the bio-lock, and when it’s accepted, I lean toward the retinal scanner. The door clicks and then swings open smoothly.
Tim whistles low behind me.
‘You still have access to his private rooms? I’m guessing this is not his official office.’ Ruby is close behind me, eager to see into a part of the Vampire world few Vamps, and even fewer humans, are afforded the privilege of.
‘It’s his private apartment,’ I say evenly, lightly, as if it’s not important, as if it means nothing.
But Micah is making a statement. He trusts me, and because of that, he trusts my partner and my bestie. The door clicks smoothly shut behind us.
‘So he sleeps here?’ Ruby says louder. I can’t tell if she’s excited, surprised, or horrified. Or imagining him sprawled naked across a massive bed, his wings spread out behind him. Oh, wait, that’s me.
‘I suggest you don’t mention this to your boyfriend.’ Tim says wryly, his attempt at a joke.
I flush, but thankfully, they don’t see it. My friends are too busy looking at the space beyond the vaulted entryway that opens into the living room and kitchen. No idea why a Vamp needs a full kitchen, but I used to love teasing him about it.
The space is vast, filled with expensive, modern furniture. A large holo-screen is recessed into one wall, over a fake fireplace that I know is also visible from the other side. Floor-to-ceiling windows take up an entire wall, the early morning sun already streaming in.
‘Its…inviting,’ Tim says. ‘I thought it would be cold.’
‘And dead?’ Micah’s voice comes from behind us. We haven’t even had time to move into the room. Sometimes I forget how fast Vamps are. ‘What can I say? I like comfort. The hassle of redecorating every century doesn’t appeal to me.’
My friends may be surprised at his tone, but this is the Micah I used to be in love with. The one very few people ever get to see. But then, why should he pretend in his own home? It feels as if he’s tentatively inviting me back into his world.
Turning to take him in, I blink. His midnight hair is damp, slicked back off his forehead, and he’s wearing a deep blue sweater over a blue shirt, with slate colored chinos.
How the hell did he have time to shower and change?
And where did he do it? I shake my head to clear thoughts of Micah in the shower.
He smirks at me knowingly, as if guessing exactly where my thoughts went, and I frown in response.
Tim clears his throat and straightens his cuffs; a clear sign he’s not sure what to make of the situation.
‘Welcome to my home.’ Micah’s smile widens, and Ruby blushes, which says a lot because her skin is a deep caramel brown. It seems I’ve also forgotten how much he enjoys keeping others off-balance. He can certainly be charming when he wants to be.
After politely offering coffee, Micah leads us through to his study, another room with floor-to-ceiling windows spread out behind a large glass and metal desk.
Micah may not be able to go out in direct sunlight, but he loves being able to see it.
The room also contains bookshelves, a sideboard with an array of top-shelf alcohol, and a sitting area with a plush cream rug, a couch, several chairs, and a low table.
There’s also a door leading to what I know contains a small, well-appointed bathroom.
‘This room is almost as big as my apartment,’ Ruby whispers in my ear as she follows me in, her warm brown eyes widening.
I notice Micah pretending he didn’t hear her, but his lips quirk up on one side, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.
It could seem out of place, or in bad taste, but I’m a cop.
I understand the need to make jokes or laugh at inappropriate things to distract from the horror of what we often face.
Micah has had more heartache, more grief, more pain, in his long life than I can possibly imagine.
If he needs a sense of normality after holding his dead friend, I will do my damnedest to give it to him.
‘Micah likes to think he has the biggest everything,’ I say in a mock-whisper to my best friend, who chokes out a laugh.
‘Evangeline knows how true that is.’ Micah’s midnight eyes glitter as they meet mine, reminding me of blood and heat and his body hard against me.
‘You wish,’ I say back, but my voice is uneven, my breathing hitched. What am I, seventeen? I need to slap myself in the face.
Micah’s eyes drop to my mouth. ‘Can I say that I do?’
It’s as if we’re alone in the room, tension a red-hot live wire strung between us.