Chapter 4 #2
“I don’t know, Clare. Maybe it’s the balmy evening air, maybe it’s because we have chosen to address each other by our first names, maybe it’s that you look…” Gods, he’d nearly told her she looked beautiful. “Different, outside of work,” he finished lamely.
She gazed steadily at him out of those incredible eyes, as if she had the measure of him, saw him for exactly what he was. A lonely, fucked-up vampire infatuated with a young and beautiful human.
A human not quite in her prime, who would blossom spectacularly, then fade and die.
It cut like a dagger, sank between his ribs and grazed close to his heart. The fact that she would leave this earth while he lived on for fucking eternity.
Swiftly, he changed the subject. “I think there are many who would love to dance with you tonight.”
“You seem determined to return to the topic of dancing, si—” She stopped short and bit her lip.
“And you seem determined to call me sir.”
“Force of habit.”
“Hmmm. Let’s talk about you instead,” he purred.
“To avoid talking about you?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay then—” She tilted her chin. “Let’s take turns. I promise not to ask anything about the war.”
“Very well. So, Clare…”
“So… Oliver.”
They both laughed, and he felt ridiculously—what? Happy? How bizarre.
“Who goes first?” she asked.
“I shall toss a coin. Tails you win.”
He took a gold coin from his pocket and flipped it, and as she leaned close to see the result, he let himself relish her exquisite scent, the warmth of her body.
“It appears you get to go first.” He pocketed the coin.
For a moment she was silent, as if considering.
Then, to his surprise, she reached out and touched the silver ring on his middle finger. A spark of lightning shot up his arm, down his spine, swirled in his groin.
“What is the inscription on your ring?”
“The Hale crest of arms.” His voice came out hoarse.
“Your family has a crest?”
“We are one of the oldest vampire clans, so yes, we have a crest.”
“Can I look closer?”
He held out his hand, long fingers splayed, willing them not to shake. She bent her head, and the tip of her forefinger traced the surface of the fleur-de-lis. Again, heat zinged down his spine, and straight to his cock.
Hell’s fire, it was barely a contact, and he was almost losing control.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “Regal, almost.”
“We were considered royal vampire lineage in our original homelands.”
“Where was that?”
“Up in the mountains, way to the north of the valley lands. My parents came here several decades before the Kominsky clan arrived from the south.”
Her head jerked up “The Kominskys—as in Matteus Kominsky? The vampire who kidnapped a human and is now missing?”
“Yep. But we’re not talking shop tonight, remember?”
“Sure, yes, I just didn’t realize that both your lineages went back so far in these parts.”
Something about her wide-eyed fascination made him continue, even though logic warned him to shut his mouth.
“My parents moved down to the valley a century before the Great War, fleeing ogre aggression in the mountains. The rest of our clan scattered elsewhere and have never been reunited, sadly. My father and mother set up home in the fertile lands in the northern part of the valley and developed a civilized relationship with humans. They had me, and then my—” He paused, his features tightening.
“My sister. But then the Kominskys arrived, and things got messy.”
“In what way?”
“The Kominskys were ruthless in their pursuit of human blood. The Hales were more reserved in our approach, shall we say. We set up strategic relations with humans, win-wins. An arrangement that continued even after Motham City was formed.”
“Really? Humans socialized with vampires after the Great War?”
“Ah, you would be surprised what went on. Even though we never promised humans eternal life, my parents’ soirees were highly sought-after events in the early days of Motham.
Humans arrived under cover of darkness and spent a very happy evening.
They were wonderful entertainers, my mom and dad, took excellent care of the humans who attended.
” Bitterness twisted his lips. “The Kominskys managed to screw that up by stealing blood that was not freely given, and that gave all vampires a bad name. Soon my family were equally reviled.”
“I never knew any of this.” She sounded a little shocked, and he realized how much he’d inadvertently told her.
How much more he could tell about the bloodshed and heartache.
About his own spectacular fall from grace.
But no, tonight he wanted her to smile on him, warm the edges of his frozen heart.
“Does sharing my vampiric history make you dislike me even more?”
Her gaze was puzzled as it lifted to his. “I’ve never disliked you.”
She swayed closer, her scent intoxicating. Rolling onto the balls of his feet, Oliver bent his head until his cheek hovered oh, so close to her hers. Their bodies almost touching, he murmured, “I feared that you disliked me very much.”
“No sir, never.”
“Oliver, remember.” His mouth brushed a tendril of her hair, smelled the cinnamon and vanilla of her skin, the temptation of her blood beneath.
“I think it’s your turn to ask me a question, Oliver,” she husked softly.
And then suddenly a voice burst in. “Clare, there you are, we’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
They jumped apart. Oliver cursed softly under his breath.
It was Saul’s wife, a pretty fae woman, and clearly, she was half cut. She teetered over on her high heels and grabbed Clare by the arm, dragging her back toward the French doors.
“We’re about to do the conga and everyone wants you there.”
“Oh no, no. Really,” Clare demurred. The pretty fae pouted and tugged harder.
“Please, hon, I’m the only female in the line-up,” she wheedled.
Clare shrugged, casting Oliver a look from under her lashes that he read as “Save me.” But tempting though it was, cold hard logic won out. Commanding her to stay would lead to gossip and speculation. It could potentially do Clare harm, and that was the last thing he wanted.
What you really want, you cannot have.
He’d already opened up way too much. Time to draw a line in the sand.
“Go,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “You will have more fun.”
Her eyes flared for a moment, with hurt maybe.
“I was about to take my leave and head home,” he drawled. “Go back inside and enjoy yourself.”
She thinned her lips then, her face blanking in that way of hers, like she really didn’t think much of him at all.
He watched her until she was lost in the throng.
Then he turned his back on the merriment and drained his whiskey glass.