Don't Blackmail the Vampire (10 page)

Yeah. He definitely should have told her why he needed to stay close to Brent. She was smart, and had a good heart. She would have understood. Kept it to herself. Hell, he’d trusted her with the fact that he was a vampire. Didn’t get much bigger than that, even if he hadn’t had much choice in the matter. She’d proven she was worthy of his hesitant trust by keeping that close to her chest. Other than the night she’d found him with the blonde, her “blackmail” hadn’t even been mentioned.

The waitress stopped to take their orders, and Charles barely muttered something passable at her to make her go away. The pretty brunette seemed oblivious to his distraction though, as her gaze shifted almost constantly to Brent. And given how Brent’s gaze followed her—specific parts of her, at least—when she walked away, he was definitely intrigued.

And Charles was done waiting.

His time here was limited—any minute now Noah or Alex might find proof that Brent wasn’t their guy. Or Charles could find evidence that proved he was. Either way, he’d have to leave. Take care of the situation with his brothers. Who knew when he’d get the chance to see Rachel again?

Hell. He was a vampire and she was very much a human tied to a human world. Besides that, he wasn’t a relationship sort of man, and she deserved nothing less. Just the idea that he might have hurt her already twisted him up in ways that he couldn’t put into words.

But if he helped her sister…

It wouldn’t make up for hurting her, giving her less than everything. But it would make him less shitty in the grand scheme of things.

“All right, let’s go,” Brent said after they’d finished eating. “Losing daylight.”

Charles followed him and Cole to the door, before halting in his tracks just outside. “Damn. Forgot my sunglasses. I’ll meet you guys at the car.”

Without waiting for their replies, he headed back in the restaurant. He had to wait only a few seconds before their waitress moved far enough away from any other people for him to move in.

“Excuse me,” he said.

She looked up from where she had been stacking dishes from her tray into an overflowing busing bin. A polite smile immediately took over her face. “Hi there! Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry if this sounds a bit like high school. But my friend was rather taken with you, and I’m afraid he was too shy to ask for your number.” He offered her an apologetic smile, as if he was as uncomfortable with his asking as she probably was.

Her interest immediately faded a bit. Apparently some dude sending his friend in wasn’t exactly to her taste, and probably hadn’t been since junior high.

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” he clarified. “He went through a bad breakup a while back, abandoned right before the wedding day.”

Sympathy touched her expression, but she still wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know…maybe if he comes and asks me himself—”

“You want to give me your number for my friend.” He pushed all of the energy he’d held through the week into the command. Part of him was immediately sickened at what he was doing, but he ignored the emotion.

He’d had nothing but bottled blood since Rachel had caught him feeding, but thankfully the waitress’s mind didn’t put up too much of a fight. And he still had a bit of strength left from the woman he’d fed from. It was fading fast, though; if he had to push too many more humans in the near term, he’d need to feed again.

Her smile brightened. “I’d love to give you my number. He’s so cute. I mean, and obviously successful. I wasn’t sure since I thought he was with that tall girl, but—”

“The number,” Charles ordered, stomach twisting.

She wrote it down on her order pad without another word, then ripped it off and handed it to him.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight.” He couldn’t even force enthusiasm into the words, but high and receptive to his powers, she wasn’t fazed.

“It’s going to be so fun! Tell him I can’t wait for his call.”

“Sure,” Charles murmured, wishing he could see another way. But he couldn’t—not a quick one. And the girl did like Brent, it was only his approach—or lack thereof—that she didn’t approve of. He hadn’t had to push her with his powers to be open to going out with Brent, only to get her to accept the odd way he’d “asked.”

They skied all day long, pausing only for a quick bite to eat and a couple of beers around lunchtime. Charles kept the waitress’s number to himself, intent on giving it to Brent at the right time. Better not to let the man mull it over too much. He might decide that it wasn’t worth the risk since he was here with Kristen and might be more easily caught.

Begging off the early dinner slash late lunch with the guys proved difficult, but insinuating that he needed a quick break after a late night with Rachel made Brent give in. It turned his stomach to even suggest to the slimy bastard that she’d worn him out, but he had to stay focused on the goal.

Instead of going to his room to rest, he headed for Cole’s room.

After his cursory search of Brent and Kristen’s room that had been interrupted, he hadn’t managed another. He’d found nothing incriminating outside of Kristen’s cigarettes, and that was hardly a crime. But he hadn’t yet had a moment to check the whole room. Cole’s room would come first, however, as he hadn’t had a chance to check it at all. And the way he’d followed Brent for so many years…maybe he was helping the man. Hell, who knew with people? Maybe for some reason Charles couldn’t fathom, Cole was the one doing the threatening.

He’d gotten a key card made for Cole’s room at the same time he had Brent’s—and Rachel’s, though he knew better than to ever mention that to her, and he’d never used it. She wasn’t the type to make hidden threats against someone, even if she thought they deserved it. She was the type to threaten a person right to their face.

Cole was a bit more of a question mark. He’d spent half this trip in his room, and the other half distracted by his phone. He obviously had his mind on something.

To his relief, the key card still worked, and the door opened easily, revealing a dark room beyond.

Charles shut the curtains, then turned on a lamp. The room was meticulously clean—not only thanks to the hotel maid staff, but also due to what looked like Cole’s almost obsessive nature. The bathroom items were organized and clean, and unlike Kristen and Brent, Cole had hung up his clothing and filled the drawers. His suitcase had been tucked neatly into the back of the closet nook.

That was the first place he looked.

Cole wasn’t high on Charles’s suspect list. Sure, he was good at reading people, but it wasn’t as if he had lots of experience as an investigator. He was the face of his family, the people person. The one who met with the humans and signed deals. Sure, that had required learning to read people, but anyone who was capable of callously threatening a nice woman like Alice was likely capable of hiding that kind of malice.

The suitcase was completely empty, and Cole’s drawers were empty of anything interesting as well—unless you counted how his socks were color coded and perfectly aligned, which Charles didn’t.

After searching every nook and cranny he could think of, including between the mattresses and behind a vent, he had to conclude that if Cole were the one threatening Alice, he was also too smart to leave evidence of it lying about.

He quickly made sure that everything was in order, then clicked off the lamp and reopened the curtains, the way the cleaning staff would have left them. He listened at the door for a few seconds to make sure no one approached, then he let himself back into the hall.

He halted, a sudden thought hitting him.

There was no computer in Cole’s room. What was he doing in there for so many hours—working off his BlackBerry? That seemed…unlikely.

He shook his head. Cole wasn’t a mystery he was going to solve tonight. The fact that he didn’t have a computer made him even less likely to fit the bill for Charles. It didn’t seem probable that the guy was running the complex email system that hid his location off his smartphone.

The urge to go from there to find Rachel was overwhelming. Brent had mentioned the sisters were in the spa, which was only a short walk away in one of the resort’s buildings. He had a couple of hours before he had to go back out with Brent and Cole to drink and play at a local club—or, more likely, just Brent since Cole had begged off most things since he’d had to “work.” Finding her would be easy. Then he could…what? Apologize? Make sure everything was okay between them?

Maybe it would be better to leave it alone.

The thought was jarring, but logical. Sure, it would hurt her—hurt him too, if he were being honest—but it would hurt her a lot less than stringing her along would. And it would make the situation clear between them in a quick and clean way, which was probably for the best. They’d both agreed it was only for the night, anyway. Sleeping with her had just made things muddy.

But hell, he couldn’t regret it.

He shook himself mentally. No. Going to her wasn’t an option. Not until he’d done everything he needed to for Alice and his brother. He had to check Brent and Kristen’s room more thoroughly now that he had the chance.

Slipping into their room proved as simple as it had before. They still hadn’t unpacked. Quickly, he went through both of their bags. Kristen’s cigarettes were nowhere to be found, but nothing else had changed.

He did a thorough search of the rest of the room before flipping open a laptop that was sitting on the room’s small desk. Not password protected. That didn’t bode well, but at least he could access the information without help.

The screen background flickered to life, revealing a wallpaper picture of a waterfall surrounded by greenery. A butterfly floated subtly in one corner, and the color scheme was pink on darker pink. Links to interior decorating programs were on the desktop.

Kristen’s laptop, then.

He clicked on her internet browser and opened her history. Unfortunately, the only thing her browser history revealed was her wedding obsession. Catering companies. Venues. Flower shops. So. Many. Dresses. Absolutely nothing more incriminating than a few spicy romance suggestions on her Amazon page and a bookmarked self-help site about working through relationship problems.

Dammit.

Resisting the urge to slam it, he shut the laptop carefully and then stood and pushed in the desk chair. This was useless, and he was starting to think that the chances of Brent being responsible were reaching nil.

But he couldn’t dismiss him yet. It was entirely possible that Brent Strub was a lot smarter and more diabolical than what his room revealed. In fact, the person threatening Alice was obviously wickedly intelligent and an excellent planner. Ridiculously good at covering his tracks. Highly unlikely that such a person would leave evidence around his room. Brent wasn’t in the clear.

But that meant Cole wasn’t in the clear either.

With one last glance around the room to ensure everything was in its place, he headed out. He slipped out of the room quickly, shutting the door behind him gently.

A swift intake of breath behind him. A split second later, her scent touched his nose. Sweet and mouthwatering. Lovely.

“Breaking and entering now, vampire?”

…

“There was no breaking. Just entering.”

Charles’s teasing tone didn’t fool Rachel. He was obviously making an effort to sound nonchalant, as if he hadn’t just come out of her sister’s room all by himself. It was apparent that he’d been doing something wrong. Because what on earth could he have been doing in there by himself that wasn’t wrong?

“Semantics.”

He’d stiffened at her approach, but hadn’t turned around to face her. “Perhaps I was looking for you,” he said. Finally he turned, but his expression was guarded.

“In my sister’s room? What an intriguing place to search.” She crossed her arms and stared at him, wishing he’d give her…something. A look. A smile. Something that would show her that they were still them.

She shook herself mentally. What the heck was she thinking? They weren’t a
them
, and they never had been. They were two people who had happened to intersect in their own individual lives. Nothing more. And trying to reach for more would only get her hurt.

“Can we talk about this somewhere more private?”

“Why? So you can distract me with your charm?” She waggled her finger at him. As long as she could keep this light, she could deal with it. And she’d be damned if she couldn’t deal with anything.

His voice turned husky and he leaned toward her, taking a deep breath, as if he wanted to breathe her in. “Actually, I was hoping to distract you with my—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll pinch you. Somewhere sensitive.” Suddenly finding it difficult to take in enough air, she almost demanded that he tell her exactly what he hoped to distract her with—and how—but his gaze had shifted. Clothes whispering behind her confirmed they were no longer alone. A look over her shoulder revealed Kristen—whose mouth had formed such a hard line that Rachel had the sudden irrational urge to warn her it might freeze that way if she wasn’t careful.

“What are you doing here?” Kristen asked, no longer seeming to care about politeness where Charles was concerned. And that said something. Kristen was always polite.

Rachel had only herself to blame. She’d done her best to pep-talk herself into not worrying about Charles all day long, but it hadn’t worked. A level of gloom had settled over her that she hadn’t been able to shake. The thought that he cared more for his business with Brent wouldn’t leave her no matter how much she told herself that she didn’t care.

And the idea that she’d half expected him to put her first, abandon whatever business he had here and go back to California with her…that was more than startling. It was unacceptable.

Kristen had definitely picked up on her mood, and she’d had no trouble deciding where the lay the blame.

“It’s fine. We just need to talk,” Rachel said, shooting Charles a glance over her shoulder. The vampire seemed to be doing his best to look harmless.

Kristen crossed her arms, obviously unimpressed.