34. Closing Costs
Chapter thirty-four
Closing Costs
Julian
“ A re you sure you want to do this, darling?” I squeezed Nicolette’s hand.
She hadn’t let go of it since I met her at the lab. On the entire drive over to Lafayette Square, she’d clung to me as she recounted the episode with Cyrus—and the test results she’d received today. Results that confirmed her blood was the key to the cure.
Nicolette gazed out the passenger window at the Greek Revival mansion that had just hit the market.
It blended old-world elegance with Southern charm.
Classical. Stately. Beautiful—like my bride.
I could picture us living a full life there.
Raising a family. Hell, even walking a dog around the square.
She and this home were everything I’d ever wanted.
But she wasn’t looking at it with the same wonder that I was.
She was staring at it like she was trying to remember how to breathe.
“The house is beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ve always admired it.” She paused for half a beat. “Julian, what have we done?”
“Science,” I teased, though internally I was as worried as she was.
It didn’t surprise me in the least that my family had noticed a change in me and were questioning my choices.
Even I had let some doubt creep in. My vampiric senses had dulled—my reflexes were slower and my hearing not as acute.
The difference was slight, but it was real.
But the trade-off was worth it all: a real future with Nicolette.
It’s why I wanted this moment with her despite the chaos and uncertainty. I wanted her to see the dream that was within our grasp. House hunting with her was much more than just picking a place to live. It was symbolic. A new beginning for both of us.
She turned and gave me a wry grin. “Ha ha. I’m being serious here.
Your family knows you’ve changed. The killer will know too.
And he’ll know I did it. And what if your blood ends up rejecting and fighting against my blood?
What if I hurt you? Or alter your metabolic pathways so a cure is out of the question?
Or what if nature is like, You messed with the bull, now you’re gonna get the horns ?
How dare you mess with the circle of life ? ”
I drew her closer. “Breathe, love.”
She gulped down a large amount of air and held it for several seconds before letting it seep out.
“That didn’t help.” She smirked. “I’m still spiraling on the inside.”
I rested my hand on her cheek. “We are going to get through this. All of it. And then I’m going to take you on a honeymoon, and I’m going to make love to you day and night, and when we return, it will be to our home. To whichever house you choose.”
She blushed, and I felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She was simply lovely.
“That sounds perfect. But . . .”
I pressed a finger to her lips. “We will face the challenges as they arise. Now come tour this house with your husband.”
“Okay,” she breathed out. “But now all I’ll be thinking about is making love to you day and night.”
“Me as well,” I groaned before brushing her lips once, wishing I could do so much more. We’d been edging closer to the line. A line we were both afraid to cross.
As soon as the real estate agent arrived, I exited the car and walked around to open Nicolette’s door. She exited, clutching her backpack. She’d transferred all her mother’s files onto her laptop and encrypted them with the same password. All her waking hours were spent poring over those files.
They’d given her answers, yes, but also more questions.
I thought about what Nicolette had said as we’d driven over.
About how nature had created vampires for a reason and the yin and yang of it.
But what if she was the yang to the yin?
Perhaps there was an evolutionary need for vampires, but if that was the case, nature always provided a fail-safe.
Some sort of regulatory mechanism. I’d lived long enough to witness it with my own eyes.
Perhaps Nicolette was just that: a genetic counterweight.
A needed correction.
And no doubt not the only one—there were probably others like her out there.
We would have to protect their secrets. And hers.
And now for my dilemma: How could we correct the course without risking her life? How could we have the dream in front of us without making it a nightmare?
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rossi,” James Cartwright drawled as he shook our hands.
He was the premier real estate agent in Savannah.
His teeth shone brighter than his polished shoes, and the sweater tied around his neck suggested he was trying far too hard to be fashionable.
But I wanted the best, and everyone agreed he was it.
Nicolette and I returned the greeting.
“Shall we go in and meet your new home?” James gestured toward the mansion.
Nicolette gazed at the grand house. “This place has to be at least four million,” she whispered for my ears only.
“Five.” I kissed her cheek.
She bit her lip again, apprehensive. Another reminder of my failure as a husband. We’d never discussed finances. We didn’t even share an account. I needed to change that. I had several lifetimes’ worth of income hidden in various accounts all over the world. It was all hers—ours.
I vowed to be a better man for Nicolette. Though I felt damned for loving her, and damned if I didn’t. Worse, I feared I’d damned her.
Was it so wrong to want a real life with her?
We took the broad steps together, hand in hand, leading to the wide veranda.
I pushed aside any thought that this was wrong.
I tried to assuage my guilt by reminding myself that Nicolette’s mother had placed her on a collision course with my world.
It would have come calling for her with or without me.
But . . . the guilt lingered.
Though it was drowned out momentarily when James began orating eloquently about the house the second we stepped inside.
“Note the high ceilings and the ornate plaster molding, and the towering windows that let in a copious amount of natural light during the day.” He pointed below him. “And look at these pine floors. The craftsmanship in this house is second to none.”
He wasn’t wrong. The house embodied elegance.
“On this main floor you’ll find the parlor, dining room, a library—”
“A library?” Nicolette’s eyes lit up.
I knew that would interest her.
James flashed a toothy smile. “Please, go explore. I love for my clients to discover the home on their own. I’ll be here in the foyer if you have any questions.”
He was smarmy, but good.
I led Nicolette through the parlor to where I’d seen the library on the online listing.
Nicolette looked around at all the fine furnishings and tiny details—the shimmering chandeliers, the fresh cuts of lilies scenting the air, the marble fireplace.
“What do you think so far, darling?”
“It’s beautiful. Expensive.”
The fact that she worried about the cost made me love her all the more.
She’d grown up in a wealthy home, yet in all the time I’d known her, money had never seemed to matter.
She drove a modest car, and until recently her clothes had looked more hand-me-down than designer.
It had endeared her to me. Even more so now.
I drew her closer and nuzzled her ear, making her shiver, and whispered, “We can afford it.”
“You mean you can.”
“No. I mean us. As husband and wife, all that I have is yours.”
She rubbed her lips together, uncomfortable. “But what you have is clearly much more than what I have.”
“I don’t see it that way,” I assured her. “If anything, you have greater value in this relationship.”
“How do you figure?” she laughed.
I brushed back a lock of her hair that had fallen in loose waves, gazing into eyes that held such passion for life and knowledge. “You have quite literally breathed life back into me. And after all my missteps, you’re still here.”
“I guess I am the MVP of our marriage,” she giggled.
That sound alone was worth living for. Worth breaking the cycle of the endless existence I’d endured for centuries. My life had meaning again, but Nicolette’s life was priceless. And fragile.
I pushed the thought aside and focused on this moment.
“Yes, you are.” I led her to the library.
Nicolette let go of my hand and drifted into the room as though drawn by an invisible force.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves wrapped the walls, each one lined with neatly arranged books in every shade of leather and linen.
Late-afternoon light filtered through tall windows, catching the dust motes in a soft golden haze.
A rolling ladder waited in the corner like an invitation.
She climbed it without hesitation, her fingers trailing along the spines as she ascended. When she reached the top rung, she looked down at me and beamed. I’d never seen her look so happy.
“It’s like heaven,” she sighed.
“Wait until you see the three-room primary suite,” I crooned.
She blushed, and I adored it.
“Three rooms. Wow. Do we really need all this space?” she asked, waving her hand around.
“I hope someday it won’t only be us. This place has a beautiful nursery and playroom.”
“Children,” she whispered. “I want them. I always have, even when I was a little girl. When my mom would take me to the lab with her, I’d bring my doll and teach her like my mother taught me. Mom even had a tiny lab coat made for her.”
I grinned, picturing it—a little Nicolette in a lab, earnest and bright, teaching her doll about the world. The image pierced me in the best way. I longed for a daughter with her. One who would be just as intelligent and beautiful as her mother.
“But . . . Julian . . . what we’re doing is dangerous.”
I climbed the ladder to meet her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine.
She gasped and clung to me.
“I won’t let you fall. Ever.” I promised. “And as for danger . . . I’ve lived long enough to tell you the world has always been dangerous. But do you know the solution to that?”
She shook her gorgeous head.
“People like you,” I murmured. “Brave enough to make a difference. Brave enough to raise a generation hopefully better than the one preceding it. Children are hope. Always.”
“My mom believed that too.” She leaned her forehead against mine. “Julian,” she sighed. “What do we do?”
“For starters, we finish touring this house. And then we plan our life together.”
She nodded and pressed her lips to mine, stilling against them.
I pressed back just as firmly, soaking her in, silently vowing that I would do everything in my power to give her the life she deserved.
We finished touring the downstairs and headed to the second floor. The rooms grew more private but no less grand. Each space was decorated with a blend of modern style and classic undertones that kept the look fresh while nodding to the home’s history.
Nicolette smiled as we went but hardly said a word. I could see the longing in her eyes. She loved the place. I wanted to tell her that all she had to do was say the word and it was hers. I think she knew that—and it scared her.
It scared me too. This dream. Her.
When we reached the master bedroom, Nicolette tiptoed in to admire the stately room with a large bed that filled the space without overpowering it.
To one side, double doors opened into a dressing room lined with custom cabinetry; on the other, a bathroom that looked more like a personal spa.
A deep soaking tub sat beneath a wide picture window.
Nicolette twirled in the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear. “Okay, this . . . this . . . is perfect.”
I watched her for a moment. The perfect moment. “Shall I tell James to start negotiations on our behalf?”
She stopped and stared at me, wide-eyed. Her mouth parted—and for a heartbeat, I thought she was going to say yes.
Instead, her face went slack. She lifted a trembling hand and pointed toward the bathroom counter.
A note with her name on it, written in red, was tucked among a vase of fresh lilies.
Without a second’s hesitation, I flew to the vase and plucked the note from the flowers.
My eyes darted in every direction, my senses on high alert.
They had definitely dulled, and in that moment, I hated how much I missed them.
How vulnerable I felt. Bloody hell, I’d thought I wanted to be rid of it all.
But matters were far more complicated than I’d ever imagined.
I didn’t detect anything except the faint smell of expensive bourbon on the paper. Damn. I should have caught it the moment we walked into the bathroom.
Nicolette plastered herself to my side, taking deep breaths in and out. “James isn’t a vampire, is he?”
“No,” I said quickly—though, hell, I questioned myself.
“We didn’t see or hear anyone,” she murmured. “They had to know we were coming here.”
“You’re right, and this game ends now.” There was no doubt it was someone we knew. Family. The thought sickened me. Regardless, they would pay.
“Open it,” she stuttered, her voice shaking.
I hated to, but there was no other choice. We had to know what we were facing.
The daughter is a busy bee
Just like her mother, I see.
Doing things you shouldn’t be.
And though protected you may be,
Now you must be punished by me.
There’s just one more secret for me to find,
And then you will be all mine.
“He knows about you,” she said, hardly able to catch her breath.
“It appears so.” I crushed the note in my hand.
“But what is the last secret he’s looking for?”
I wrapped her in my arms, holding her as tightly and securely as I could. Was it the key to the cure?
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly, praying this fiend had no idea about the enzyme in Nicolette’s blood. “But we’re going to discover it before he does, and then whoever betrayed me dies.”
“Julian,” she whispered. “I don’t think you should take my blood anymore. It’s too dangerous. I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. To us.”
“It’s not your fault. The blame is all on me.”
“I love you.” She clung tighter.
It was the first time she’d ever said those words to me. And the first time in six hundred years those words had truly meant something to me. If she could love me . . . did I really need to be human?
“I love you, Nicolette.”
And that was human enough.