Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
JESSE
The morning arrived gray and cold. The rain had held off, though, and the sky was dreary but clear.
Caleb sat at the table in a pair of pajama pants and nothing else, his chin propped in his hand, watching me whip eggs in a bowl.
The thin scrap of winter sunlight coming through the kitchen window had found him despite itself, the beam slanting over his bare shoulders like it had nowhere better to be.
I knew the feeling.
“Hungry?” I asked as if I didn’t know the answer.
He grunted, eyes half-lidded. My mate was most definitely not a morning person.
I cracked two more eggs into the bowl and reached for the salt.
“Do you want help?” he rasped between his fingers.
“We’ve been over this,” I said.
Another grunt.
Hiding a smile, I poured a mug of coffee and carried it to the table.
Caleb straightened, grouchiness giving way to something that resembled hero worship. “I love you.”
I set the mug in front of him. “Keep showing up to breakfast shirtless, and I’ll make you whatever you want.”
He wrapped both hands around the mug. “Throw in some bacon, and I’ll lose the pants.”
My snort filled the kitchen. Returning to the stove, I turned up the heat and let the butter get loud before I poured in the eggs.
“Have you heard back from Stefanos?” Caleb asked.
“Not yet.” I’d sent a text last night, giving him the bare bones of the meeting.
I dragged a spatula through the eggs in long strokes, pushing the curds to the center. “He’s probably consulting with Nin and the other elders before he communicates next steps.”
Caleb made a negative sound and muttered, “Maybe he’ll tell us to go back to London.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I’m not.”
I finished the eggs and slid them onto two plates, then added toast and the last of the prosciutto from the market.
Plates in hand, I started toward the table.
Then I felt it.
A presence, just outside the front door.
“Human,” I said, shoving the food onto the counter. I headed for the front door, the scrape of Caleb’s chair following me.
“Stay back,” I told him as I crossed the foyer and went to the video monitor mounted next to the door. The image on the display told me what I already knew.
Alessia stood on the porch, her slender form swathed in a dark winter coat. Her scent coming through the door was so faint it was almost undetectable, her humanity worn thin by Carlo’s blood in her veins. She was close to turning and difficult to scent.
The perfect messenger.
Carlo had obviously had us followed last night.
Not that I’d really tried to cover our tracks.
I’d destroyed Caleb’s phone in case we needed to leave Rome without a tail, and I could only hope that escape hatch held.
But I had no expectation that the villa’s location was a secret.
Hiding from a master vampire in his own city was a fool’s errand.
I opened the door.
“Buongiorno,” Alessia said, extending a thick beige envelope. I took it, and she turned and quickly descended the steps. At the gate, she gripped an iron spindle in one hand and vaulted the whole thing in a single fluid motion. She dropped to the ground on the other side and strode out of sight.
“What the…?” Caleb breathed at my shoulder. “Did you just fucking see that?”
“I saw it,” I muttered, stepping back and shutting the door. “Carlo’s blood gives her a vampire’s speed and strength. She’s still human, but barely.”
Caleb’s face went grim. He was thinking of the blood exchange and Alessia’s dependency. If Carlo didn’t turn her, she would wither and die.
I held up the envelope. “Let’s find out what he wants.”
We returned to the kitchen, where I sat at the head of the table. Caleb dropped into his chair and leaned on his elbows as I broke the wax seal and removed a thick card.
Elegant handwriting flowed in precise lines, each loop and flourish a work of art. I read quickly, then met Caleb’s curious stare.
“Carlo has invited us to a private performance. Francesco will sing tomorrow night at nine.”
Caleb frowned. “I thought last night was his final show?”
I placed the invitation on the table and pushed it toward Caleb. “I guess he’s making an exception.”
Caleb angled his head, the curiosity in his eyes deepening. “Is that parchment?”
“I think so.”
He gave me a look. “If the vampires are trying to hide from humans, they’re doing a shitty job.” He picked up the invitation and studied it. “This is exactly what I’d expect a movie vampire to send. Carlo needs a gmail account.”
A laugh caught me off guard. “Maybe the opera house has a suggestion box.”
Caleb grinned. Then he froze, his face going blank. The invitation dropped from his fingertips.
“Caleb?” I demanded, on my feet and around the table in a heartbeat. I grabbed his shoulders as panic wrapped tight fingers around my throat. He was pale under his tan, and sweat dotted his forehead. His eyes darted back and forth as if he couldn’t focus.
“Caleb!” I shouted, shaking him a little. “Talk to me.”
His eyes flickered between their usual shade and the pale, electric color of his wolf. For a terrible second, he didn’t seem to hear me.
Then he blinked. Once. Twice.
“Fine,” he gasped. “I’m fine.”
Some of his color came back. I dragged a chair around and sat facing him, one hand on his shoulder in case he had another spell.
“What happened?” I asked, surprised when my voice emerged steady. “Did you see something?”
He nodded, his gaze going to the invitation in the center of the table. “I saw us. We were side by side in a private box with red and gold curtains around it.” He looked at me. “Someone was singing.”
“Francesco?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his forehead. “I recognized the voice.”
Damn.
Caleb eyed the invitation. “I want to touch it again.”
His color was mostly back to normal, but sweat still darkened the hair at his temples. “No.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“You just went as white as a tablecloth.”
“I’m fine now.” He straightened, shoulders back like he meant to demonstrate how great he felt. Stubbornness glinted in his eyes as he added, “My gift is finally working. Don’t you think we should use it?”
“Not at the cost of you passing out on the kitchen floor.”
“I didn’t pass out.”
“Close enough.” God, what if I hadn’t been with him? He could have cracked his head open. A little voice reminded me that Caleb was a werewolf with supernatural speed and strength.
I ignored it.
His mulish expression grew. “Being a seer is what stopped the Council from killing me. Everyone keeps saying I’m rare. What good is magic if I don’t use it?” He stared at the invitation, something new in his eyes. “What if it fades again? I might—”
“Okay,” I said quickly. And I rubbed his knee so he’d look at me. “You’re not going to lose your gift, all right? I promise.”
The panic I’d glimpsed dissipated, but uncertainty lingered. His swallow was audible in the quiet kitchen. “Maybe it won’t work a second time.”
Leaning forward, I snagged the invitation. “Let’s try it. I’ll be here with you.” Anything to make the fear of rejection in his eyes disappear.
He looked at the parchment. “When in doubt, move your ass.”
“What?” I asked, mystified and charmed as always.
Caleb flicked his gaze up. “Something my football coach used to say.”
“Ah.”
He drew a deep breath that lifted his big shoulders. Then he plucked the invitation from my fingers.
His eyes went distant almost immediately, the sky blue draining to the pale shade of his wolf. But his breathing stayed even this time, and his hand didn’t shake. His eyes fixed on a spot over my shoulder…then darted back and forth. Quick and precise. Left and right.
Ten seconds.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
I tensed, worry gripping me tight.
He blinked, and his color rushed back faster than before.
“Fuck,” I muttered, grasping his shoulder. His skin was clammy under my palm, but his eyes were clear as he offered a weak smile.
“Such a potty mouth, Professor van der Meer.”
“I earned that one. How do you feel?”
“I’m good.” He tossed the invitation onto the table and looked at it. “We were at Carlo’s place for sure. I saw more of it this time. You were in a dark suit jacket.” He turned back to me, blue eyes twinkling. “You looked good.”
“What else?”
“That’s it. Just the two of us sitting next to each other. I heard Francesco but I didn’t see him. Everything around the red box was blurry.”
Resignation settled over me. “I guess we’re going to the opera tomorrow tonight.”
A spark of his usual mischief flickered in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suit.”
The feeling was mutual, but I could think of about a thousand more preferable settings than Carlo Gesualdo’s opera house. I sat back and rubbed a hand over my mouth. “I hate this.”
“Do you think it’s a trap?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’ll run it by Stefanos, but I assume he’ll order us to attend. If Carlo wanted to kill us, he wouldn’t advertise it.”
“At least my magic is working. That’s a good thing, right?”
“It’s a good thing.” But he’d gone somewhere else just now. Somewhere I couldn’t follow. I pushed the hair off his forehead, my fingers lingering at his temple. “You scared the shit out of me. Twice.”
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed the top of his bare foot over mine. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m serious, Caleb.” Fear and frustration were tight knots in my gut. “I don’t know the first thing about your gift. I’ve never met another seer.”
He pulled my hand from his face but held onto it. “Was the human who told Philippe he’d find Marcus again a seer?”
“Philippe seemed to think so.” I shoved the memories back where they belonged. “But he was distraught when he told me. We argued, he took his own life, and I never got the full story.”
Caleb rested our joined hands on his thigh. “Damn, Jesse. That’s a lot to carry.”
“It was for a while,” I said. “But it’s lighter now. I used to think Philippe was running from me. He’d turned all these men, and none of them were what he wanted. Then he got to me, and he was disappointed again.”
Caleb looked at our joined hands for a long moment. When he raised his eyes, they were very blue and very serious. No mischief, no armor.
“Philippe couldn’t see what he had,” he said. “I’m glad he couldn’t. Because you ended up mine, and you’re everything to me. Every single thing.”
It was better than any I love you. But he said that, too, the sentiment flowing from his side of the mate bond.
Married on two legs.
Yes. I was going to marry this man as soon as I could manage it.
“You’re every single thing to me, too,” I said.
For a moment, he just looked at me. Then he stood and straddled me, settling on my lap with his pajama pant-clad thighs on either side of my hips.
The chair creaked under our combined weight, but the sturdy construction held.
I wrapped my arms around him as our mouths met and my world narrowed to his smooth, warm skin and the hint of coffee on his tongue.
He kissed me slowly, strong fingers sliding up my nape into my hair.
I kissed him back the same way, one hand smoothing up his spine, and I let myself relax.
Rome and Ulfrik and Carlo could wait. This—this—was mine.
Caleb’s weight in my lap. His apples-and-brownie scent in my lungs.
The small sound he made when I tilted my head and stroked my tongue deeper.
When he pulled back, we were both semi-hard. Golden stubble glittered on his jaw. His bottom lip was wet and pink from our kiss. At some point, rain had started up outside, and it tapped softly against the kitchen window.
“Does this mean you’ll make me new eggs?” he asked, his eyes dancing.
The sky outside was gray, but I didn’t need the sun. Not with summer personified in my lap.
“How about a frittata?” I asked.
“Does it have cheese on it?”
“It could.”
“Then yes.”
He climbed off me, and I went to the refrigerator and gathered ingredients while he wandered to the window and looked out.
After a moment, he came to the counter and leaned against it.
His color was normal, and he seemed steady.
But it was going to be a long time before I forgot how he’d looked in those few seconds when he’d gone slack, his eyes tracking something only he could see.
Maybe it was better if we skipped the opera, after all.
“We don’t have to go tomorrow,” I said, whisking a new batch of eggs. “I’ll talk to Stefanos.”
Caleb was shaking his head before I’d finished. “No way. We’re in Rome to find Ulfrik, and now we have a lead we didn’t have before.”
The distant sound of church bells drifted from outside. Scooters hummed beneath it. The city stirred, oblivious to the master vampire pulling strings from an opera house in its center.
“Stefanos might tell us to stay home,” I said.
Caleb scoffed, gripping the edge of the counter with both hands and leaning back. He studied the flex of muscle in his forearms as he said, “I guess anything is possible. But I have a feeling he’ll cream his jeans when he hears my gift showed up.”
For about the thousandth time since I’d met him, I had to fight a smile. “That’s quite a visual.”
“You know I’m right.”
He was. Stefanos hadn’t sent us to Rome to drink olive oil and admire the Colosseum.
Caleb turned and eyed the parchment on the table. “I got a vision both times I touched it. Maybe I should do it again.”
My panic threatened to return. I gripped the spatula I held, ready to rap his knuckles before he could start toward the table. “You’ve touched it enough.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “First time you’ve ever said that.”
“I’m serious. Certain kinds of magic can drain energy.” I nodded toward the invitation. “We don’t know if there’s something about that piece of parchment, or if your gift just works that way. We can experiment later. Right now, I think it’s a bad idea to push yourself.”
He seemed to consider it. Then he sighed. “Okay.”
Relief washed over me. I went to the stove and heated oil in a pan. “You need to shift before tomorrow night’s performance,” I said, looking at him over my shoulder. “I want your wolf as settled as possible before we walk into a nest of vampires.”
A look of horror crossed his features. “They wouldn’t try to feed from us or anything, would they?”
“If they were desperate, maybe. From what I’ve read, vampires prefer human blood. They say it’s sweeter.”
“Gross.”
I laughed. “I’ll feed you this frittata. Then we’ll go for a run.”
He looked toward the windows. “In the middle of the day? Someone will see us.”
“I know a good place,” I said, an idea forming. When he glanced at the window, expression skeptical, I let my smile spread. “Are you afraid of the rain?”
“Ha. Hardly.”
“Glad to hear it, college boy.” I nodded toward the table. “Now get ready to eat. You’ll need your strength for this.”
He went to his chair, a mix of curiosity and anticipation on his face. “You gonna tell me what you’re planning?”
I turned back to the stove. “Nope.”
“Fuck.”
Smiling, I poured the eggs into the pan.