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Griffin makes a disgusted grunt. “Because the woman is in love with you, you big idiot. Why else would she write a lovely story about a man she never met?”
“She never said she loved me.” Though I felt her emotions. She felt the pull of our bond just as I do.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Griffin tosses me the keys to his car. “Go find the girl before you really do lose her.”
“I don’t know where she lives.” I stare at the keys in my hand. I’ll never pick up her scent in a crowded city.
Noah rolls his eyes. “I’ll fly you in the helicopter. We’ll be there in a couple of hours. Finn, get on the internet and find out where she lives.”
With a salute, Finn taps the computer screen on the desk and starts searching.
I give Griffin back his keys with a bro-hug and follow Noah to the helipad beyond the gardens and a row of tall pines on the left of the house.
Once we’re airborne, I speak into the microphone attached to my headphones. “Thanks, Noah.”
He turns us east. “That’s what brothers do. Besides we already lost Wentworth, I’m not losing any more family.”
I suppose it was selfish to wallow, but I just couldn’t bear a life without her.
* * *
By the time we land at the heliport on West 30th Street, I have an address on the upper west side.
Noah yells something about calling if I need a ride home, but I’m already running toward the street where I flag down a cab. Vampire speed in the middle of Manhattan would be a terrible idea.
Thirty minutes of agony later, we arrive at a nice building with a doorman. “I’m here to see Britta Daniels.”
The doorman is tall and burly in a blue uniform with “Mike” on his nametag. He’s probably fifty and looks at me suspiciously. “Name?”
“Oliver Becket.”
He checks his list. “I don’t see you on the list. I’ll call the apartment.” He picks up an old landline-type phone and pushes a button. The voice from the other end isn’t Britta, but she tells Mike to let me up. “Yes, Miss Dunkirk.”
Once he hangs up the phone, he smiles and shows me to the elevator. He unlocks it with a keycard and once I’m inside, presses the button for the eleventh floor. “It’s 1120.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
The doors close on Mike’s surprised face.
The woman who opens the door is beautiful and tall. She has long blond hair and looks me over as if she’s reading my life story. “You are as impressive as Britta led me to believe. I have to admit, I had my doubts.”
“Thanks?” I enter the upscale apartment. “Is she here?”
“She went to get some boxes. She’ll be back any minute.” She stares longer. “You look like an ordinary man. I mean, exceptionally good-looking, but not exactly how Britta described you either.”
“What did she say?”
“She said you’re a vampire. She said that your brothers and you are all monsters. I’m thinking you drugged her with some psychotropic that made her believe that crap.”
“Why did you let me up here if you think I would drug someone to get them to be with me?” I want to start running the streets looking for Britta.
“Because she’s moving out whether I like it or not. At least you came after her, though I don’t know what took so long,” she says.
“Miss Dunkirk, I’m a vampire. I didn’t drug Britta. I didn’t come sooner because I didn’t think she wanted me to. This morning, when I read her article about my father, I realized how wrong I’d been. So, I flew here by helicopter to beg her to forgive me for being so late and ask her to look for a way for us to be together.” I let my eyes go black and my fangs descend for a moment before reeling the vampire back in.
“Holy shit.” She backs up and rounds to the of the couch. “You’re not going to hurt her or change her, are you?”
The door opens, revealing a breathless Britta carrying unmade boxes. She’s ruffled and there’s a smudge of dirt on her cheek. In a denim miniskirt and stretchy top that leaves her shoulders bare, she’s perfect. “I don’t want to change anything about her.”
