6. Alexander
6
ALEXANDER
I paced down the hallway at two minutes to eight the following evening, my focus solely on seeing Emily’s face. I had watched her all day, once again invisible to her eyes, toying with the idea of stepping close to her, watching her reaction to my presence even though she didn’t know I was there.
But I had resisted through sheer strength of will.
She was a difficulty I was determined to overcome, but I had convinced myself that this case would require subtlety. I wouldn’t murder her in cold blood, no matter how I wanted to sink my fangs into her flesh and taste the sweetness of her neck.
I halted in front of her apartment door, withholding a sneer at the barrier that prevented me from reaching her.
Someone had warded Emily’s apartment. It was a magical ward commonly used by vampire hunters, but I couldn’t pass it until it faded. Or until I found the source of the ward itself and convinced Emily to remove it.
A ward of that strength would usually be a personal item, something small but obvious. Whatever it was, it was close to the door and imbued with blood magic .
My suspicions were threefold—Jen, Michael, and the roommate that Emily had mentioned the day before. One of them had placed it in her apartment. Or, perhaps, another person in her life whom I had yet to lay eyes upon.
Either way, the hunter wouldn’t best me.
My gaze wandered to the apartment door beside Emily’s. Michael hadn’t liked me, but he hadn’t given me any indication that he was the one who had warded the apartment. Or that he recognized me as a vampire.
I checked my watch then raised a fist and knocked on the door.
Inside, an excited squeal rang out, followed by whispers. To mortal ears, they would be inaudible.
“He’s here, oh my god.” A woman’s voice I didn’t recognize.
“Morgan, stop.”
“I can’t wait to see this guy. From what you told me last night … I mean, hubba, hubba, am I right?”
“Hubba, hubba? Are you for real?” Emily asked.
The discussion was adorable, but I schooled my expression to calm.
Footsteps approached, the chain rattled, and Emily appeared.
Breathtaking. She wore a fitted red dress that accentuated her every curve and had swept her auburn hair into a French twist. Classical, beautiful. But not irresistible. I had to stay focused on the task at hand, and it was not to bed a human woman.
“Emily,” I said, extending a hand.
She placed hers in my palm and sucked in a breath as I drew her a step into the hall and pressed a kiss to her soft, supple flesh.
My fangs itched to extend. “Stunning.”
“Alex,” she murmured, her crimson lips parting on a breath. “I—It’s nice to see you. You look amazing.”
I glanced down at myself, the black suit and the white open-collared shirt. It was acceptable according to the store I had visited earlier today. I didn’t bother with fashion as most of my work was conducted with magic and violence .
“Thank you,” I said, the words strange in my mouth.
A young woman wearing her blonde hair in pigtails poked her head around the corner of the door. “Hey! I’m Nor—Holy crap. You weren’t kidding, Emily.”
“Morgan, stop it.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” I said.
Morgan’s jaw had dropped, and she fiddled with a pair of headphones at her neck. “Pleasure is literally all mine, my dude. Wowza.”
“You’re drooling,” Emily hissed. “Back up.”
I hid my grin.
Emily grabbed her purse and said goodbye to her roommate—still gaping at me—and shut the door. “I’m so sorry about that,” she breathed. “I, uh, I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
“She seems lovely.” I offered her my arm.
Emily took it, and I escorted her down the stairs and toward the exit, forcing my thoughts away from the gorgeous woman beside me and to the book. That was what I had come for. If I had to befriend this woman to get it, then so be it.
“Did you have a good day?” I asked, even though I had watched her all day long. Every breath, every movement, every second of raised pulse when I drew nearer.
Right now, Emily’s heart beat out a frantic pattern against her throat, and she was … aroused. The scent of her threatened to derail the evening, so I turned my head away and inhaled the fresh night air as we stepped onto the sidewalk.
“—library,” she said.
I focused on her face again, my jaw clenched. “Yes,” I said. “The library. That must be an intriguing job.”
“It’s great,” Emily said. “I love books, and it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Well, that’s not technically true. I wanted to be an author when I was a little girl.”
“Oh?” I guided her toward my black Porsche and opened the door for her.
“Wow, this is a nice car,” she said, as I fed her into it. She laughed under her breath and bit down on her lip. “I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”
I smiled at her and shut the door. Not a fairytale. A nightmare.
On the drive to the restaurant, Emily regaled me with tales of the library, the types of books she read, until finally … “I’m so selfish taking up all the air in here,” Emily said. “What about you, Alex? What do you do?”
“I dabble,” I said. “Investments, mainly. Equities, property, that type of thing.”
She gave me a smile. “Do you enjoy it?”
I steered the car into a parking space then turned to her, frowning. “Do I enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
It was the last question I would have expected from her. What did it matter if I enjoyed it? She wasn’t at all interested in how much money it earned me, but whether I was happy.
“It’s a living,” I replied.
Escorting her up to the restaurant—Michelin star, overlooking the city’s twinkling skyline—passed in a haze. Dinner was the same. Emily ordered a steak that she ate in perfectly proportioned bites, her lips parting to insert it between her teeth. She would steal the meat from the tines of the fork, and, bizarrely, I was jealous.
After the meal, I drove her back through the city, winding along the road as I considered broaching the topic. “Tell me more about your dream to be an author.”
“Alex,” she said, “I’ve talked so much about myself already. All through dinner.” She laughed. “I feel like I barely know you.”
“What I do is boring,” I said. “But you wanting to author books, now, that is fascinating. What type of books would you like to write?”
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” she said.
“I doubt it.”
“It is.”
“Hold that thought, Emily.” I said her name simply because I enjoyed it. If I couldn’t taste her then I would taste her name instead. “ This is my favorite place to go for an evening walk.” I parked outside the cemetery.
“I—I mean, this screams serial killer, but okay.”
“Serial killer.” I turned toward her. “And what if I was?”
“Was what?”
“A killer?”
Emily’s pulse skyrocketed. “You’re not.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because you wouldn’t have fed me before you killed me,” Emily said. “And you wouldn’t kill me in a cemetery. Come on, that’s so cliche.”
“I take it you write mystery novels then?”
“No,” she said, “but this is actually great fodder for what I do write.”
“You’re leaving me in bated breath.” The car was full of her smell, so I opened the door and strode around to allow her out of her side. I held her hand in mine, conscious of how hot it was, how small, and guided her toward the cemetery gates. It wasn’t yet locked, but it would be. Not that it would be a problem for me.
“This way,” I said, guiding her inside.
We walked between the graves, some of them crumbling, others well-cared for with fresh flowers, and Emily stopped, her fingers tightening around mine. We shouldn’t have been touching, but it felt natural.
I released her, resisting the sensation of lack after she was gone. “You were saying?”
“Vampires,” she said.
I stiffened.
“I write stories about vampires. Romance stories. You know, like a story where the human falls in love with the vampire? Kind of like Twilight. ”
“I’ve never heard of it,” I said.
“You’re kidding.” She turned toward me. “You haven’t? Where have you been for the last couple of years? Under a rock? ”
In hibernation. “I don’t watch a lot of television. I prefer to read. Was that the book that was on your kitchen counter last night?”
“Huh? Oh, no,” she said, her cheeks coloring a beautiful shade of pink. “No, that was something else. It was a library book.”
“I see. Was it about vampires? You seemed rather protective over it.”
“Did I?” Emily frowned, and I pictured sweeping a hand over her brow to remove the confusion. “I guess you’re right. Can I tell you a secret? You won’t tell anyone?”
She trusted too easily. “Yes.”
“I shouldn’t have that book. It belongs in the library where I work? But I couldn’t resist. It’s a journal written by a Frenchman at the turn of the century, and it’s about vampires.”
“Naturally, that would be tempting for a woman who writes stories about them,” I said. “But …”
“What?”
I drew my tongue over my lips, drawing closer to her. “Why would you write about them? Vampires? They’re beasts in these books, aren’t they? Bloodsuckers?”
“I think,” she said, “that it’s about the idea of being swept away from your normal life. Everybody has fantasies.” That tempting blush deepened.
“Emily.” I cupped her cheek, stroking a thumb over it. “You’re as beautiful as a flower.” And as easily crushed.
“A flower,” she whispered. “I’d rather be something more hardy than a flower. Something that can survive.” Her gaze was locked onto mine, her pupils dilating in those blue eyes.
I could kiss her now. I could take her with me and make her mine, but that would destroy everything.
If I asked her for the book now, would she give it to me? She would surely question why I wanted it. She would lose the trust I had built with her.
Your mission is to get the book. Not to toy with this girl .
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The thought of harming her pained me. And it wasn’t a natural pain.
Distance. I needed distance from this. To figure out what had caused this strange connection between us.
“Alex,” she whispered, her eyes darting back and forth as she took me in. “You—You make me feel so strange.”
“Strange in what way?” I looped one arm around her, drawing her soft body against mine, bending my head so that we were inches from each other.
“I can’t describe it,” she whispered. “I feel like I’m losing myself.”
It was the charm vampires possessed. While compulsion wasn’t one of my skills, I was still blessed with the natural lure that came to predators of my kind. She wanted me because of that lure, not because of her natural desire for me.
I brushed my fingers over her lips, and she shivered.
“I would like to see you again, Emily.”
“When?”
“I’m not sure. I have to leave for a while,” I said. “But soon.” I stepped back and placed a hand in the small of her back, guiding her out of the open gates and back toward my car.
The drive back to the apartment building was tense with her desire, her smells, and my resistance to them. I hadn’t anticipated that taking this mission would provide a challenge of quite this size.
Or any size. I had expected to take the book and leave, but there were obstacles, and one of them was Emily herself.
I escorted her up to her front door. “Goodnight, Emily,” I murmured.
“Goodnight, Alex.” And then she shut her eyes and tilted her head backward, her red lips pouting.
A kiss would make her malleable, but it would only weaken me further. I brushed her cheek with my palm one last time, and then I sank back into the shadows, making myself invisible once again.
Emily opened her eyes and sucked in a breath at my absence. She lifted her hand to her cheek and touched it. She released a sigh then entered her apartment and locked the door.