A Vampire's Promise (22 page)

Taking sex out of the equation, mainly because that belonged in a category all by itself, I mulled over the question. Did Gabriel make me happy? Yes he did, and surprisingly, it wasn't because of huge romantic gestures that swept me off my feet. It was the little things—simple, thoughtful moments. Like making sure the coffeepot was set to brew five minutes before my alarm went off, or leaving a glass full of flowers on the kitchen table, or putting a sticky note declaring how much he was already missing me on the bathroom mirror.

“Yes.” I nodded reassuringly. “He makes me very happy.”

Admitting to myself the euphoria Gabriel brought to my life was one thing; telling him how he affected me was another. But laying it all out for a third party? Whoa! It didn't get any more real than that. Now there was no going back. Our secret was out, and it felt good. It felt right. Laycee peppered the rest of our ride home with salacious, racy comments about Gabriel's expertise between the sheets and bits of unsolicited advice. I spent most of the ride home in tears because I was laughing so much.

It was dark by the time we got back to the apartment complex where she and Jake now lived and where I'd parked the POS earlier that day. I passed on the invitation to supper, grateful to be truthful about the reason why. Gabriel rarely let more than two days pass without seeing me, and it had been that long already. It was the start of the weekend, and I was fairly confident I'd have company this evening. Jake, overhearing my excuse, looked at Laycee with a puzzled frown.

“Don't worry, Jake,” I told him with an easy grin, “Laycee will explain everything. It's a girl thing.”

I was still grinning at the confused look on his face as she walked me to my car.

“By the way, I forgot to tell you, but we're going to be out of town the rest of the weekend,” she said, her face glowing.

“Oh yeah, why's that?”

“Jake's taking me up to the mountains. He wants to give me an early Christmas gift.”

I smiled at her, easily infected by her romantic enthusiasm. “Good job we went shopping today.” I had a feeling she wasn't the only one who would be getting a head start on the jolly fat guy with the reindeer express. I kissed her cheek and hugged her. “Well, you guys have a good time, and be careful driving. I think they've had snow up north.”

“We will,” she promised, waving as I drove off.

 

My heart began doing its own little tango as I pulled into my driveway and saw Gabriel's new Hummer. I had been as overwhelmed by this vehicle as I had by the Fairlane and the Ferrari.

“What can I say? I like cars,” Gabriel had said with an unabashed boys-and-their-toys grin.

“So what do you call this one?” I asked. “Henrietta?”

“Actually it's Heloise,” he murmured sheepishly.

“I should have guessed.”

“Will you let me buy you one?” he asked, boosting me up into the passenger seat while his hand lingered possessively on my rear end. “I promise you can keep the POS.”

“Absolutely not!” I stared down at him in mock outrage, which lost most of its effectiveness when I realized there wasn't much of a
down
to my stare. I assumed he was joking. In my world, guys didn't buy their girlfriends cars. That only happened in the movies.

“Why not?” He seemed genuinely puzzled by my refusal.

“Far too many complications.”

My answer made him sigh dramatically, roll his eyes, and mutter under his breath. Whatever he was thinking, he wisely kept it to himself.

Pulling alongside the behemoth, I realized my mistake. It wasn't Gabriel's vehicle, after all. His was all black with only the basic chrome accessory work, whereas this one twinkled like a Christmas tree. And just to confirm it was a different vehicle, there was a broad silver stripe running down the side and the windows were heavily tinted. Definitely not Gabriel's, unless he'd traded up for a newer model.

Turning off the engine, I stayed where I was for a few moments. By now Gabriel would have almost wrenched off my driver's-side door in an effort to get to me, but nothing in my front yard moved. My visitor was a mystery.

Getting out of the POS, I gave the Hummer a final glance before hitching my purse up onto my shoulder. A prickle along the nape of my neck and the edgy sensation poking me in the ribs warned me that something was amiss. “Well, you sure as hell ain't gonna find out what it is standing here,” I muttered as I pushed my anxiety down. I started forward, completely unprepared for the near heart attack that was waiting to spring itself on me.

“H
ello, Little One. Surprised to see me?”

The accent was unmistakable, and I forced my major blood-pumping organ back into my chest as I watched her come around the Hummer's front grille. I noticed she was dressed pretty much as she had been the first time we'd met, the same thigh-high boots and tiny skirt, but today a midriff-baring top and a long, black trench coat had replaced the zippered jacket. Her long hair was piled on top of her head, held in place by what looked like a pair of chopsticks, producing an effect that could only be described as stylish disarray. I felt certain Laycee would have appreciated the effort required to produce such a fashionable statement. She was the last person I was expecting to see, and my anxiety level kicked up a notch as she waited for me to speak.

“Hello, Katja,” I said.

My voice was amazingly normal, and she beamed at me, delighted that I remembered her name. I don't think there was anyone she met who would ever forget it. Or her. The kohl-rimmed, violet eyes raked over me, and the gorgeous, red-stained lips parted in a smile.

“Where are the others?” I asked, glancing behind her.

She pouted. “Tonight I come alone. Aleksei is doing”—she waved a hand, long red nails slicing through the air—“whatever it is he does when he's not doing me—”

I raised my eyebrows, wondering if my understanding of
doing me
was the same as hers. I decided it couldn't be because she didn't even pause as she continued “—and Oscar . . . is no longer with us.”

Oscar? The guy in the World War Two bomber jacket had been called Oscar? That was a bit of a letdown. Even with his midwestern accent, I had been hoping for something a little more Hollywood. Chase or Tyler at the very least.

“So, what brings you to my neighborhood?” I asked, leaning against the hood of the POS. “Slumming?”

She walked toward me, the long trench coat flapping open and showing flashes of skin visible between the tops of her boots and the bottom of her skirt.

“We need to have a talk, Little One. Female to female.”

This wasn't good. When another girl tells you that you need to have a
talk
, girl to girl, woman to woman, or even female to female, I can guarantee the conversation is going to be about a man. The only man who linked Katja and me was Gabriel, and I sure as hell wasn't going to discuss anything about him with her.

“Sorry, Katja, but now really isn't a good time. I'm expecting company.” I turned and began walking toward the house. My gut was telling me it wouldn't be a Hallmark moment if she were still here when Gabriel showed up. “Give my best to Aleksei when you see him,” I called out with a wave over my shoulder.

I don't know how she moved so quickly in those boots she was wearing. One second she was behind me; the next, she was on the top step of my front porch, looking down at me and blocking my progress.

“No, Little One, I think we will very much have a talk. Right now.” Her tone was both imperious and icy.

I took a step back—startled, to say the least. “How did you . . . ?”

I looked behind me, and when I turned back, it was to find she had moved again and was now standing right in front of me. I blinked and realized she was attempting to seduce me with her beautiful violet eyes. Only this time there was no mesmerizing pull, no hypnotic effect, and I had absolutely no desire to find out what her cranberry-stained lips tasted like.

“Really, Katja, is that the best you can do?” I asked, insulted. “You tried that before and it didn't work then, so I wouldn't hold out much hope now.”

I was bluffing, but she didn't necessarily know that. Besides, how could she be so blatant about pulling the same move twice in a row? Didn't I at least rate a token show of subtlety?

A frown pulled her perfectly arched eyebrows together, making her look, I'm pleased to say, a little perturbed. “Don't fool yourself, Little One. I almost had you in the palm of my hand last time, but now I think something about you has changed.”

I caught a flash of long, painted nails out the corner of my eye as she grabbed the collar of my jacket and almost yanked me off my feet. Leaning forward, she sniffed my neck, reminding me of a dog. I suppose I should've been grateful she wasn't trying to sniff my ass. If I'd felt insulted before, it was nothing to what I was feeling now. I jerked myself free of her hand.

“Well, well . . . I see you have been keeping Gabriel busy.” She flashed me a suggestive smile. “But of course, I knew that already.”

Liar. She hadn't known, not for sure. That's what all the sniffing was about, confirming her suspicions. Somehow she could smell him on me.

“My name, in case you've forgotten, is Rowan.” I spoke with only the barest hint of sarcasm. The patronizing way she was referring to me was getting old real fast, and the smile on her face said she knew exactly how much it irked me. She just didn't care. Katja would continue to call me exactly what she wanted—and my feelings be damned.

“You know you have no future with him, don't you?” Pushing open her long coat, she rested one perfectly manicured hand on her hip. I noticed that her nail polish matched her lipstick. “You are like the others, something to amuse him like cat with mouse. Then he will tire of you and move on.”

“Oh?” I wondered why Gabriel's love life was of any interest to her, but you didn't need to be a rocket scientist to come up with that answer.

“Trust me, Little One, I have seen it happen many times before. It always ends badly . . . for the female.”

I had to give her credit for the remorseful look on her face. She was one hell of an actress. “And you care about this . . . why?”

“I like you”—
oh, the hell you do!—
“and I don't want to see you get hurt.”

“I appreciate your concern, Katja, but you needn't worry. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself.”

“You think so?” She turned and climbed the steps back up the porch so she could look down on me again. “I wonder.”

Looking thoughtful, she began tapping her long nails against the railing. I was going to get a crick in my neck if I continued looking up at her, and the nail drumming was already beginning to irritate me. Climbing the stairs, I leaned against the opposite rail.

“What do you really want, Katja?”

“I told you, Little One, I like you. You are different from the others.”

“Others?” I crossed my arms and waited. Was this the best she could pull from her bag of tricks? Fling Gabriel's previous girlfriends at me? If she thought I was so insecure I was going to be distraught about other women he'd slept with, she was grossly underestimating me. It might have been true back in the summer, when we'd first met, but not now.

“I have known Gabriel a long time.” The expression on her face could easily pass for sympathy. “He has had many women, and it is always the same. First there is excitement and curiosity, but too quickly it turns to boredom. I am sorry to tell you that it will not last. It never does.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so. His attention wanders and he is easily distracted by the promise of a new experience.”

“How long does it take before he gets bored?”

The cranberry lips pulled into a tight line. I don't think I was reacting in quite the way she had imagined. She didn't answer me.

“I see.” A sense of quiet satisfaction rolled through me. “I've already lasted longer than the others, haven't I?”

She glared at me, her violet eyes turning a deep, dazzling amethyst, before regaining her composure and gifting me with what I imagined was her most beguiling smile. “Is true, I have never known him to be as . . . enamored.”

“So what's the problem, Katja, jealous?”

She'd have to be a complete idiot to think I was buying her concerned girlfriend routine, and Katja didn't strike me as stupid. What's that saying about hell having no fury like a woman scorned? Yeah, well, it doesn't hold a candle to one woman poaching on another's territory. It seemed that the glamorous cover model wasn't happy about my bedding Gabriel, and I could only imagine why. Clearly she had come to warn me off. Only I wasn't about to roll over simply because she said so.

“Are you upset that it's my bed he's chosen and not yours?” I asked.

She threw back her head, laughing at the suggestion. “Please, Rowan, you think I have envy in my heart because of you?” Holding out her arms, Katja twirled, making the bottom of the trench coat flare out like a prom gown. “Take a good look at me, Little One.” Amazed that I would dare put myself in the same stratosphere, she shook her head sadly. For a minute, I too was startled by my own audacity. What was I thinking?

I might not feel insecure about any past conquest of Gabriel's, but Katja scared the hell out of me. Not because she was a past conquest—intuition told me she wasn't—but she definitely wanted to be a current one. Self-doubt threatened to smother me, but then I remembered one life-affirming fact. The gorgeous Goth Queen still had to put her thong on one leg at a time.

She stopped pirouetting and came toward me, her fingernails scraping lightly as she caught my chin. “I am your friend, Little One. I don't want to see you to get hurt.”

I jerked my head away. “Bullshit!”

She raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You think I am being untruthful?”

“I think you're full of it!” I snorted. “You couldn't care less if I get hurt.” I gave her a hard stare of my own as a warning beacon lit up inside my head. This woman was many things, but my friend wasn't one of them. “Your only concern here is Gabriel. You want him for yourself, only I'm in the way.”

She returned to her post on the opposite railing, her hands disappearing back inside the coat as she pushed it open. The skin she exposed looked unnaturally white against her dark clothing, and I wondered if she felt cold. I know I did.

“If I wanted Gabriel for myself, as you say, you would not be able to stop me from taking him.” Her mouth twisted into a sly smile. “Besides, how do you know I haven't already had him?”

Because you wouldn't be here if you had.

“If you're so confident you can take him from me, then do it already, and stop wasting my time talking about it.” You really can't argue with that type of logic. “Or did you already try? Is that what happened? Did he turn you down?” I wasn't above letting her know I could be just as hurtful as she, if pushed far enough. “Perhaps you overestimate what you have to offer.” I made a gesture with my hand, measuring her from head to toe.

I doubted anyone had ever cast aspersions on her packaging before, and if looks could kill, I'd be pushing up daisies. I sighed. Our “little talk” was putting a damper on what had actually been a really good day.

“You have no future with him.” She said again, her tone flat and expressionless.

“And I suppose you have?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He and I are alike. I would make for him the better choice.”

As much as I hated to agree with her, I was forced to admit there was more than a grain of truth in her words. She and Gabriel were alike, or at least seemed to be on the surface, but perhaps that was reason enough for him not to want her. It was a possibility I could tell Katja had never considered, and probably never would.

“That may be,” I said, “but it doesn't change the fact that it's my bed he keeps coming back to.”

“If you knew what was good for you, you would walk away from him.”

Shit! She just wasn't going to give up. A pit bull had nothing on her. I could feel the edges of my temper start to fray. “Oh, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what's good for me, and trust me, Katja, I'm not about to walk away from it.”

She shook her head and blew out a long breath between her red lips.

“It is true; you are different from the others. You give him something he has never had before,” she admitted grudgingly, “but can you keep him? Take a good look, Little One.” She waved her hand as if she could conjure up an image of Gabriel with a snap of her fingers. “See him as he is. His clothes, his cars, and the secrets he keeps.” She nodded her head at the look I flashed her. “Oh yes, I know he is keeping secrets from you Perhaps you are the one overestimating what you have to offer.” Her mouth curved slyly upward. “He has not told you the truth about himself, has he?”

I stared at her, saying nothing. Just how much did this dazzling woman in front of me actually know? How much was guess work? And just how close was her tie to my lover?

“Gabriel has told me all I need to know,” I heard myself say, but my voice wasn't as strong or confident as it should have been. “And I trust him.”

“Then why are you so fearful when he leaves you?”

Was I really that easy to read?

I couldn't help it. Uncertainty
was
my domain, not Gabriel's, and Katja had nailed me dead to rights. Every time I said good-bye to Gabriel, watching him drive off to the life I knew nothing about, a small, insecure part of me would surface. A part that was still standing outside Rosie's, wondering why he wanted to be with me.

Even if I could look as flawlessly polished as Katja, complete with the killer wardrobe, my insecurity would still linger. However, she didn't need to know that, and I refused to let her see just how badly she'd rattled me.

“You know, you're absolutely right, I can't compete with you.” Suspicion flared in her eyes. “You look like a million dollars, and I would imagine ninety percent of the male population would kill for the chance to be with you, and not just those looking for makeup tips.”

Hoping to break the tension, I was trying for a smile, but no luck. Katja simply continued to look down her nose at me, a member of some imperious European aristocracy wearing a face that gave away nothing. I sighed and wondered if I was flogging a dead horse.