Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Halloween was usually the best holiday. Humans loved to dress up in their silly costumes and embrace a more carefree, no-consequences attitude than normal. Somehow, they believed nothing could hurt them while at the same time wishing to be scared by the monsters they thought weren’t real.
And of course, Rafe embraced all his vampiric nature that night. He did nothing to hide his fangs and he flaunted his power.
The humans would laugh, and the alcohol would flow.
But this year lacked all its usual enticements.
Rafe remained up in his office, watching the revelry from the windows.
The music thumped against the glass, but he remained encased in silence.
A nagging sense of unease curled in his stomach about leaving Marcus’s house early last evening.
He apologized to his new family members more than once, but they brushed it off.
Their little smiles, gentle pats on the shoulder, and slightly worried looks made it clear they understood why he couldn’t stay longer.
Annoying.
No, humiliating.
He never got wrapped up in anyone—man or woman. No one possessed his mind. His heart.
But that was all bullshit now. There wasn’t any point in lying to himself; he wanted Philippe.
There had been no new word from Marcus, Aiden, or anyone in his family since the meeting with Philippe and Jullien. He didn’t know how to take his family’s silence, which was ridiculous. Extended radio silence should be easy after Philippe’s refusal to talk to him.
A soft knock on his office door drew him away from the window and over to his desk.
There had to be some paperwork he needed to sign or maybe some finances to look over.
Ugh. He was starting to sound like Marcus.
Maybe he should leave town for a little while.
Regain some fucking perspective rather than risk becoming more responsible.
“Enter,” he barked, disgusted with his line of thinking.
Gideon poked his head in and glanced around. Something in Rafe eased, and he changed course to drop onto his sofa. He always had time for Gideon. The young vampire had a way of making the world a little easier to swallow.
Stopping a few feet from the sofa, Gideon frowned. “You still look grumpy. Last night’s ‘walk for fresh air’ ”—and yes, he even made the air quotes with his fingers—“didn’t help you at all.”
“Aiden should have added a caveat to you joining the clan. You’re not allowed to be friends with Ethan. He’s only going to increase your sass levels.”
Gideon’s laugh was musical and persistent as it tugged at the darkness crowding around his heart and mind. “Ethan is fantastic. I think we’re going to be great friends. Particularly when I move into the Varik house.”
“What?” Rafe said, sitting up so that he was balanced on the edge of the sofa.
Gideon dropped onto the cushion beside him and pulled Rafe back so that he was cuddled beside him.
“You left before it was decided, but Marcus and Ethan are making their home the official Varik Manor. I’ve accepted their offer to move in.
I think Ryder is coming with me.” The playfulness bled away, and Gideon’s eyes became serious again.
“I’ve never felt comfortable living alone.
Before…before I was turned, I always had a lot of roommates.
I’d rather live with other people.” He paused and turned so that he could face Rafe.
“Is that okay? You do think they really meant the offer…”
“Yes!” Rafe said quickly. He wrapped his arm around Gideon’s shoulders and pulled him tight against him.
“Yes, I believe you’re welcome at Varik Manor, and you’re going to be very happy living there.
Well, assuming you can stomach the disgusting sweetness that is Ethan and Marcus together.
Personally, I have to space out my visits or risk vomiting on his lovely vintage Persian rug in the library. ”
“Good,” Gideon said with a heavy sigh. “But that’s not why I came in here.” He pushed away from Rafe and turned so that he was practically sitting sideways on the sofa. “The clan leader of the MacPhersons is here. He wants to talk to you.”
“The clan leader demanded to talk to me?”
Gideon cringed. “No, it was a polite request. He’s being very civil.
Lola is giving him the private booth at the back of the club with the good view of the dance floor.
I think she’s sending over your favorite scotch to the table while he waits for you.
” He paused and licked his lips. “She also suggested that I go visit Ethan at Varik Manor. Winter is already on his way to escort me there.”
“Good plan.” Rafe leaned forward and brushed a kiss to the top of Gideon’s head before he rose. “Be nice to Winter. He’s still adjusting to Ethan’s sass. I think the two of you would just break his poor brain.”
Gideon gave a shudder. “Definitely not comfortable teasing Winter.”
Rafe stopped, his eyes narrowing on Gideon. “You know Winter will never hurt you, right?”
“I know that up here,” Gideon said, tapping his temple. “It just takes a little while for it to sink in everywhere else. It’s hard to make the shift from thinking someone is the boogieman to thinking the boogieman is now your brother.”
Rafe nodded. “You’ll get there.”
Pausing to check his tie in the bathroom mirror off his office, Rafe winked at Gideon, who was still sitting on the sofa, before heading down to the main floor.
The appearance of the clan leader was…well…
unexpected, to say the least. Did he hear about Philippe’s meeting with Marcus and Aiden?
But then, that raised the question of whether the MacPherson clan was actively trying to form an alliance with the Arsenaults.
Why would the MacPhersons seek an alliance with the Arsenaults? They were a horrible match. Unless the clan leader didn’t know the full details behind the Arsenaults’ members.
Or was the MacPherson clan leader at Blush for an entirely different reason?
Rafe rubbed his eyes over the dull ache starting to throb behind them. This was why Marcus handled the political nonsense. He didn’t like the teasing and tiptoeing through things unless it was going to get him laid.
He stopped on the threshold leading to the club and nodded to Lola at her usual spot by the bar.
Her lovely full lips were pressed into a thin line, and the muscles in her jaw flexed like she was grinding her molars together.
No, the arrival of a clan leader without warning was never a fucking good thing.
It would be better for everyone in the nightclub if Rafe got rid of this guy as quickly as possible.
Nolan MacPherson was a surprise. Okay, so maybe Rafe had let his imagination run away with itself when all he had to work with was the name MacPherson.
Just possibly he’d sketched up a brute of a man in a kilt with a wild red beard and wild red hair and equally wild red eyes.
And yes, a big gut to go with his big arms and thighs.
It was all very logical at the time.
But that was not the vampire seated in the circular booth at the rear of the nightclub.
That man had a chiseled jaw and an aquiline nose set just perfectly under a pair of sharp blue eyes.
Lush lips were parted in an engaging smile as he watched the people dancing and laughing in front of him.
Instead of fiery red hair, he had thick, warm auburn locks that curled at the collar of his button-down shirt.
To say he was handsome was a laughable understatement.
Yet, where the figure was enticing, the power rolling off him was like being hammered by a massive wave and shoved against the ocean floor. It was suffocating and unrelenting.
Rafe nearly laughed. Nolan wasn’t older than Aiden. He wasn’t even older than Philippe.
God, Philippe’s powers were a touch of the divine.
Soft and gentle, they wrapped around him as if welcoming Rafe home.
But Nolan’s were brute force and intimidation. He didn’t want to say they were all bark and no bite. Nolan was undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with, but he wasn’t what he pretended to be.
Rafe stepped up to the table, and Nolan’s smile spread across his lips as he sat up from where he’d been leaning.
“Nolan MacPherson, I presume,” Rafe said with a little bow of his head. “Or would you rather Master MacPherson?” Internally, Rafe reviewed that question, double-checking that he’d managed to say it without a hint of mocking, though it had been so damn hard.
Nolan’s smile didn’t change, but something sharpened in his eyes. “Since I am in your territory, I think Nolan will do just fine.”
Rafe straightened and placed his hand to his chest. “Rafe Varik, at your service. Welcome to Blush. May I join you?”
Following a small nod of permission, Rafe slid across the leather bench seat, stopping when there was adequate space between him and Nolan that appeared friendly but respectful.
Nolan raised a hand and waved it toward the dance floor crowded with people. “This is an amazing nightclub you’ve created.”
“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice over the years.”
“Yes, one of my clan members mentioned you had a club years ago she went to. In Chicago, I think.”
“The Red Room,” Rafe said. The stiffness fell from his smile. The Red Room had been one of his favorites. Art Deco, gin, and a full orchestra every night playing until the dancers practically dropped from exhaustion. It was a hard act to follow, but Blush was putting in a good showing so far.
Rafe removed the stopper from the crystal decanter in the middle of the table and tilted the bottle toward Nolan. “Shall I pour? It’s from my private stock. A quaint little distillery on the Isle of Skye that makes a fantastic whisky. Though I’ll admit, I mix a healthy splash of O negative.”
“I prefer my O negative from the source, but I’ll try your concoction.”