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“I asked her to marry me.”
“Really?” Daisy exclaimed. “Did she say yes?”
Megan had had enough. Before Rhys could reply, she stepped into the room. “Why don’t you ask the prospective bride?”
They all turned to look at her.
“Eavesdropping, were you?” Rhys asked.
“How else am I going to find out what’s going on around here?” She marched toward him. “Just going to walk out on me, were you?” She stabbed a finger at his chest. “Don’t I have anything to say about it?”
“Megan…”
“I know you’re worried about me. I’m worried, too. And scared to death. But I don’t think your leaving will make me any safer. Villagrande has a score to settle with me, too, remember? His last words were ‘this isn’t over.’ Sure sounds like a threat to me.”
“I agree with Megan,” Erik said.
Rhys swore softly. “I was going to give him the city,” he muttered. “None of this was necessary.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” Daisy said. “Sounds like Villagrande’s after both of you.”
“So, it’s settled then.” Erik took Daisy by the hand. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to go out for a while.”
“We won’t be long,” Daisy called over her shoulder.
After Delacourt and Daisy left the house, Rhys pulled Megan into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you involved in all this.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Rhys, stop blaming yourself. I’m with you because I want to be. Every relationship has its problems.”
He snorted softly. “Is that what you call Villagrande? A problem?”
“Well, a mighty big one, and…oh! I need to call Mr. Parker and tell him I won’t be in tonight.”
“Or any night, as long as you’re in danger,” Rhys said, reaching into his pocket. “Here, use my phone.”
Megan stared at the BlackBerry in her hand, noting, absently, that it was top of the line. But that was immaterial at the moment. Once again, her life had been turned upside down because of Rhys Costain. This time, it could cost her her job. Being a glorified saleswoman wasn’t the greatest job in the world, but she enjoyed working at Shore’s, and she got along well with Mr. Parker. Still, business was business. How much time could she take off before he decided to let her go?
“Megan?”
She looked up at Rhys, nodded, and punched in Mr. Parker’s private number.
Chapter 42
Shoulders hunched, Tomás Villagrande sat atop the Hollywood sign, letting the cool air soothe the burns scattered over his face, hands, chest, and shoulders. His clothing had been no protection against the hellish embers that had burned through cloth and skin alike. He hadn’t hurt so badly in centuries, and it was all that red-haired tart’s fault. Once his initial pain and anger had subsided, Tomás realized his power had been kept at bay by some supernatural spell. The woman wasn’t a witch, which begged the question: Who had worked the enchantment? And the only logical answer was Erik Delacourt.
Tomás swore softly. Not long ago, he had done Delacourt a favor by sparing his life. And then, in an uncommon burst of charity, he had spared the lives of Daisy’s father and brother, as well.
“Just goes to show you,” Tomás muttered. “Sooner or later, every good deed comes back to bite you in the ass.”
He lifted a hand to his face, grimacing as his fingers encountered puckered flesh. What foul curse had Delacourt conjured, Tomás wondered, that prevented his injuries from healing overnight?
Yes, Delacourt had much to answer for.
And then there was the matter of Shirl’s destruction. It surprised him to realize that he missed her. He had been drawn to her from the first moment he saw her, captivated by her ethereal beauty. She had enjoyed being a vampire, reveled in her preternatural power. He had been charmed by her exuberance when she was on the hunt, puzzled by her reluctance to take a life.
And now the lovely Shirl was gone, her existence snuffed out before he had fully savored her. Before he had tired of her. The tart would pay for that, too, he mused, though he wasn’t sure what form his vengeance would take. A life for a life? Perhaps.
Or perhaps he would destroy Costain and make the whore his slave, subject to his every whim. He would humble her, degrade her, until she had no will of her own, and then, when she no longer amused him, he would drain her dry and toss her aside, an empty husk.
But first, he had to find her.
Chapter 43
Mr. Parker assured Megan that her job would be waiting for her when she returned to LA. She had told him a crisis had arisen in her family and that she hadn’t had time to call him before she left town. She had been grateful when he didn’t ask for details.
She’d no sooner ended the call than a booming male voice yelled, “Hey, Daisy Mae, we’re back!” and a tall, athletic young man with dark brown hair and brown eyes strolled into the living room, his arms filled with gaily wrapped packages. “Wait until you see what I brought you from Spain….”
His voice trailed off, and he came to an abrupt halt when he saw Megan and Rhys. Exclaiming, “What the hell?” he glanced around the room; then, eyes narrowed, he glared at Rhys. “Where’s my sister, vampire?”
Rhys grinned at the other man. “How’s it hanging, hunter?”
Megan studied the man. It could only be Daisy’s brother, Alex.
He dropped the packages on the sofa. “Ex-hunter. I’m a married man now. Just got home from my honeymoon, as a matter of fact.” He glanced at Megan, then looked back at Rhys. “So, are you going to introduce me to this pretty woman?”
“Megan, this is Daisy’s brother. Alex, this is Megan DeLacey.”
Stepping forward, Alex shook Megan’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. Why don’t we sit down? So,” Alex said when they were all seated, “what brings the two of you to Boston?”
As succinctly as possible, Rhys told Alex about Villagrande.
“Damn!” Alex leaned back in his chair. “Did you have to antagonize the baddest badass vamp of them all?”
“It wasn’t my idea.” Rhys lifted his head, his nostrils flaring. “Your sister’s home.”
Rhys had no sooner spoken the words than Daisy and Erik materialized in the living room.
“Alex!” Daisy cried, and threw herself into her brother’s arms. “Welcome home. Where’s Paula?”
