Page 47 of Damian’s Conquest

“He’s a big teddy bear. And I know of many couples like that.” He gestured to Samson who now danced with Delilah, who wore a form-fitting azure-blue dress. “Those are Patrick’s parents, Samson and Delilah.”

“That’s the owner of Scanguards? The way he looks at his wife… it’s as if… as if she’s the only woman in here.” Naomi looked at him.

“To him, she is.” Damian smiled. “I could go on.”

“It must be nice to have such role models, to know all these married couples who’re still happy after decades of being married. When I look at friends of my family, all I see are a lot of divorces. When I was in high school, most of my friends’ parents were on their second marriage. It’s uplifting to see that some people can really make it work.”

He noticed her glance back at Nina and Amaury and smile. Yes, it had been a good idea to show her what his family was like before she knew what they were. Right now, she saw them without prejudice, and with some luck, she’d recall those impressions once he told her the truth about his family and himself.

“Shall we get out of here, and go to my place? I’d like to be alone with you so we can talk, just you and me. And then I want to make love to you.”

“Won’t they wonder why we’re leaving so early?”

He chuckled at her ear. “Do you really think that anyone will notice that we’re leaving? Look around. They’re all too busy making eyes at each other.”

“Then let’s go.”

22

Naomi was surprised when she realized that Damian’s flat was in the middle of the Tenderloin, a rather seedy neighborhood in downtown San Francisco. But the moment he led her into the full-floor apartment, she was surprised in a positive way: the place was pure luxury, something she’d not expected from the outside. Clearly, even the Tenderloin was gentrifying.

“Do you own this flat?” she asked turning to Damian.

“No. My parents own the building. They live in the flat above.”

Surprised, she asked, “You don’t mind living so close to your parents?”

“We have a good relationship.” He came closer and put his hands on her waist. “But let’s talk about us.”

All of a sudden, Damian’s cell phone rang. He sighed and looked at the display. “That’s Patrick. I’d better take that.” He answered the call. “Yeah, what is it?” There was a short pause, then Damian put his hand over the phone, and said to her, “Make yourself at home, I’ll be just a minute.”

He walked toward the balcony and opened the sliding glass door, before stepping outside to continue his conversation with Patrick.

Naomi took the opportunity to let her eyes roam. The elevator they’d ridden up from the garage had opened directly into the flat. The living area was large and open, with a small balcony, a massive TV on one wall, an open-plan kitchen at one end of the room, and several doors to the left and the right of it, which she assumed led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Since this was the only flat on this floor, she assumed that there were at least two or three bedrooms, and just as many bathrooms. Her own flat could fit three times into the space.

Damian was still out on the balcony, talking to Patrick. Naomi dropped her jacket and her handbag next to her overnight bag that Damian had carried up for her, and walked to the kitchen. She was thirsty, and a little nervous. Normally when a guy said that they needed to talk, it was bad news and involved a break-up. However, Damian had asked her to stay the night, and he’d told her at the party that he wanted to make love to her. So whatever he wanted to talk to her about was probably good. Nevertheless, she was nervous, because she had no clue what he wanted to talk to her about that he couldn’t have said earlier in the car.

Naomi opened the refrigerator and looked inside. It was surprisingly well-stocked for a bachelor: orange juice, cream, fresh fruits and vegetables, dips, cheeses, cold cuts, and white wine. She scanned the shelves for bottles of water, and finally found them on the lowest shelf. She pulled one out, and was about to close the fridge, when her eyes fell on two bottles of red liquid that were stashed in the back of the fridge, behind the water bottles. She’d seen those bottles before.

Her heart skipped a beat. The clear bottles were labeled in the same manner as the broken bottle she’d found under the dumpster behind the Mezzanine. There was only one difference. They said O+ bottled by Scanguards instead of A+ bottled by Scanguards. She dropped the plastic water bottle, and reached for the bottle with the red liquid. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was she hallucinating?

Her pulse drummed faster now. Damian had claimed that he’d never seen a bottle like this before. Yet there were two identical bottles in his refrigerator. She unscrewed the cap and sniffed the liquid. The metallic scent stung her nostrils, and she recoiled involuntarily. This was blood, no doubt. Human blood.

“Naomi, Patrick said—”

At the sound of Damian’s voice behind her she whirled around so fast that she tripped over the water bottle she’d dropped so carelessly on the floor, and stumbled. Damian reached for her to steady her, but the damage was done. Her hand jerked upward, and the contents of the open bottle spilled over her chest, splattering on her top and running down her cleavage. She was soaked in blood.

“Fuck!”

It was Damian who’d cursed, but it might as well have been her, because what she now saw, scared the living daylights out of her.

Damian’s eyes had lost all of their blue color and glowed red. And between his parted lips she saw sharp, brilliant-white fangs peek out. The same kind of fangs he’d worn at the Halloween party as part of his vampire costume. But she knew that he wasn’t wearing plastic fangs or colored lenses right now, just like he hadn’t worn any during the night at the Mezzanine. She realized that now, because there was nothing fake about either of them. This was Damian, the real Damian. The vampire. She knew that now. And it explained so much. In fact, it explained everything.

“You tricked me.” She pressed out the words, while her mind was working overtime. How would she get past him? How could she escape his flat now?

“Naomi, please, I was gonna tell you. Tonight.”

She backed away from him and felt the cool air from the open refrigerator blast at her back. “You’re a real vampire.”