AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The polite honking behind them turned into a blaring blast before they separated. Samantha waved an apology at the vampire and made her turn. “Let’s continue this conversation at home.”
Étienne had his elbow propped against his door and looked ruggedly casual as he stroked his lips with one finger and studied her. His smile was full of sensual promises. Their “conversation,” it said, would not be held in words.
14
Urgent Business
DominiquewaitedwithCassidyand Serge in the entrance hall, keeping a tight lid on his temper. Every few months, a blood-drinker found his or her way to his dojo’s door. They had heard rumors of him, they would say, found the address listed on theV-zette. They wanted to know if it was true that there was a lord of their kind. They wanted to know what it meant. He answered their questions, re-sired them, sent them on their way. It was part of the job, but he also enjoyed flipping their world upside down, turning them away from fear and darkness and into love and light.
But why did one have to show up tonight?
“It’ll only be a little while,” Cassidy said earlier when Samantha’s text hit both their phones. Dominique had been preparing to go out to hunt. He needed the sustenance for his plans tonight. He wanted to renew his bond with Cassidy and spend more time with his family in the happy illusion of being human again.
Instead, there were hunger pangs in his belly, Cassidy was only a remote whisper in his mind, and his mother was occupied in her room, catching up with the rest of the family via video—as Serge had “suggested” she do.
Dominique waited.
Finally, the garage door rumbled open and Samantha’s hybrid whispered in. Another car rolled up the driveway. He settled into one of the plush, high-backed chairs in the far corner of the foyer. Serge took up position behind him.
While Dominique wore jeans and a dress shirt with his loafers, Serge was his usual disheveled self in board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. In honor of this “official” occasion, he had donned flip-flops. Dominique didn’t insist on formality. The casual dress was a convenient way of soothing the jangled nerves of blood-drinker visitors—or lulling potential enemies into underestimating the true extent of his power.
Samantha hurried in from the garage through the kitchen, her new shadow, Étienne, trailing behind her. Both were flushed, their eyes shiny, and their heart rates elevated in ways that did not speak to looming danger.
He allowed himself a tiny smile.
“Sorry, Dominique,” Samantha said. “I didn’t mean to ambush you.”
“But you were ambushed,non?”
She nodded. “Her—” her eyes flickered to Étienne “—boyfriend made it sound pretty grim.”
“Très mystérieux,” Étienne supplied.
Dominique’s mood darkened further. His cousin was getting far too exposed to things he would be better off not knowing. “Thank you. You may go.”
Étienne cocked a brow at the official tone. “‘I may go?’”
Serge zipped around the chair, eyes flashing black, mouth open, compulsion ready to fly.
Samantha clamped her hand to Serge’s shoulder. “No. I’ve got this.”
The softest of growls escaped Serge, but he relented.
Étienne blinked, uncertain. Samantha took his hand. “Shall we leave them to boring business and continue our…conversation?”
He smiled down at her, trapped in her wide, beguiling eyes. “Yes. Let’s.” Bidding them all a good night, he let Samantha lead him away.
Serge watched them go, still growling, and Dominique feared that if Étienne were not related to him, the man would be short serious amounts of blood at this point. He sent the mental equivalent of snapping fingers at Serge to gain his attention.
Shooting his lord an unhappy glance, Serge returned to his post behind Dominique’s seat.
When tentative steps approached the door, Dominique nodded to Cassidy, who turned to open it before anyone could ring the bell. “Welcome,” she said warmly.
The vampire who entered was a petite work of art, determined to disappear into the background. There was next to no color about her. Only a hint in her ice-blue eyes and soft pink lips, but none in her white-blond, up-swept hair or translucent skin. Even her choice of dress—a pantsuit ensemble of white and peach beneath a cream duster—seemed to work toward making her disappear. Despite this, she carried herself with the regal posture of royalty and an impassive expression that bordered on haughty.
Her heart told a different story. He listened to it race as she approached, the click of her stilettos tentative. Dominique smelled the hint of fear in her still-wintery scent. Young. Perhaps a decade as a blood-drinker, no more, and perhaps all of twenty when she had been made.
A human male carrying a leather shoulder bag entered with her. He was the polar opposite of her. Tall, muscular, with a dark beard, and dressed in black workout shorts and a sports hoodie. After murmuring a greeting to Cassidy, he stood by the door, hands clasped before him. He, too, oozed a fine mist of fear.
