Sweetblood 02.5 - Enchanted by Blood (9 page)

She visibly relaxed. “And Leona?”

“Probably. Most of our kind do, but because of my position with our Council, I don’t. We believe that our kind can live peacefully among yours. Or I should say, because of my potential position with the Council.”

“Leona seems to think you’re on this Council.”

He briefly explained the situation, including what had gone on with his uncle. Then he told her about Sweet blood addictions and Darkbloods, leaving out as much of the gore as he could.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head.

He braced himself. All of this had to be a hell of a shock and—

“So they’re going to hold the actions of someone else against you? Someone who wasn’t guilty of a crime in the first place? Your great-uncle was an old man, for God’s sake. And someone took advantage of him.”

He snapped his head up. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. “I’m afraid so.”

She angled her body to face his. “Why would you want to be a part of an organization that judges you not by your actions, but by someone else’s?”

“It is my duty.” It was all he knew, what he was destined to become.

She made an exasperated sound. “How is it that humans haven’t found all this out by now? Plastered it all over the internet?”

“From time to time, they have. For instance, the man with Leona was a human who’d been petitioning her to change him.”

“So that’s why she thought I was wanting you to turn me into…someone like you? To become immortal?”

“Technically, we’re not immortal. We just live much longer than humans. And it takes the blood of two vampires, not one, to turn a human to a changeling. But, yes, that’s what she’d assumed about you.”

“If I believe you, which I haven’t decided yet because it’s so…far-fetched, then why are you able to go out into the sun? You left my house at dawn when you…ah…stayed over.”

“Not all the myths perpetuated about our people are true.” He explained to her how the UV light affected their kind.

“So have you ever taken my energies? Or wiped my memories?” she asked cautiously.

“I have taken your energies at times,” he admitted, pointedly ignoring her second question. He wasn’t ready to confess that yet. “I try not to, but it flows so easily into me that I really have to concentrate. But sometimes when I’m with you, my thoughts are focused…elsewhere and I let down my guard.”

She rubbed her arms. “So why are you telling me all this? Why not lie?”

He stared out at the bay before he replied. Lights from the city and the far shore danced in warped patterns on the water. A marine horn echoed in the distance, a mournful, melancholy sound in the night air. “Because it makes me feel good to finally tell you the truth.”

Neither of them said anything for a full minute. Then she turned to face him again.

“What do you mean by
finally?
”

He let go of her and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, but the dread in his heart remained. “Because we didn’t just meet two weeks ago in the parking lot. We met last Christmas, when you decorated the house for the party.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“TAKE ME HOME.”

Those three words pointed one way, and one way only. It had sounded like a death sentence at the park. She’d not said anything more.

Trace parked the car in front of Charlotte’s house and started to get out, but her hand on his wrist stopped him.

“I was in love with you, wasn’t I?”

He sat back against the leather seat and stared out the windshield. “You never told me if you were or not.”

“But I was. I can feel it in my bones. That night when we met again…when you took care of those two guys…part of me knew that I’d loved you. I don’t think I’d have ever let you take me home and…well…do what we did together otherwise. Instinctively, I knew I could trust you. Like it was hardwired into my system. I just didn’t remember that I did.”

Trust him? Shit. He was the last person she should trust. “Charlotte, please.”

“Were you afraid that I’d tell about you and your people? Is that it?”

“Of course not, but it’s written in the old edicts that a human cannot know about the existence of our kind. Once you found out, I had a duty to uphold.”

“So what exactly did I see last year?”

Trace remembered it as clearly as if it were yesterday. The party guests had left, and he’d insisted that Charlotte spend the night rather than drive home. “You were clearing up stray dishes and I was upstairs checking on one of the houseguests. Somehow you ended up downstairs near—”

“The storage room?”

“How did you—? Yes, the storage room just past the wine cellar.”

“I knew it. The other day when you were on the phone, I ran down there to check for a missing box. I got such an uncomfortable feeling that I came back upstairs without going inside. I didn’t know why.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I don’t remember anything, though. What happened?”

“I’m glad you don’t, because—” He silently cursed Sebastian. “You walked in on my cousin and one of his lady friends.”

“And he was…drinking her blood?”

Trace nodded.

“Then what happened?”

“I remember pausing in the upper hallway, an extra pillow in my hands, sensing that something wasn’t quite right. By the time I got downstairs, you were in the foyer with Sebastian.”

Charlotte had looked terrified that night, confused, and yet somehow she held herself together. When she spotted Trace, she’d started to go to him but Sebastian had laughed. “Run away, little human. You’re right to be afraid. But if I were you, I’d think twice about running to Trace. He’s one of us, too.”

The look on her face had nearly killed him. Because he’d brought Charlotte into his world without telling her the truth about what he was, she was suffering. Then he’d remembered his promise to his father and his duty to his family. The Council would never accept him if he was in love with a human. A fling, maybe, because it could easily be ended. But Charlotte had been much more than that. And so, for her sake as well as his own, he’d made the only choice he could.

“I took you to your car and—” He’d blocked it out of his mind—the pleading look, the disbelief as he put a hand to her face. “And then I watched you drive away.”

The atmosphere inside the car now was charged as Charlotte took it all in. “You took away my memories. Not just of what I’d seen your cousin do, but of you. Your family. What we had together. And you did that without giving me any input into the matter.”

“Yes,” he said flatly.

The slap across his face happened quickly. He welcomed the sting.

“Bastard.” Charlotte’s eyes blazed with anger.

Yeah, he sure as hell deserved that, and a lot more.

“I don’t care about your rules or your duties or your promises to your father. Were you in love with me?”

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, let alone Charlotte. Regardless of his feelings, she didn’t fit into his carefully crafted world. “I can’t love you.”

“I didn’t ask you if you could or couldn’t. I asked if you did.”

Jesus, why did she always have to be so damned precise? He sighed loudly. “Charlotte, I’m poised to take over my family’s seat on the Council. I cannot be with a human no matter what my feelings are. They are…immaterial.”

“So you do care about me,” she mumbled under her breath. “Well then, take me back to your place. I’ve got a house to decorate and an event to finish planning. Plus, I’d like to see your grandmother again. Then, when the holiday party is over, you can do whatever it is you feel you need to do.”

With a determined lift to her chin, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly for him to start up the car again.

Was he understanding her correctly? “You mean you want to stay there until the party is over? You’re okay with what I am? You’re not frightened or repulsed?”

“Those are two words I’d never use to describe you, Trace. Angry with you? Yes. But I…I care about you…very much. The truth about who you are doesn’t change that.” She straightened the ends of her coat belt, which lay in her lap. “You know, I had an interesting conversation with one of my girlfriends back there at the party. She had noticed the car we drove up in and remarked that you must be really wealthy. The truth is, Trace, I don’t pay attention to things like that. Just as I don’t care that you’re a…a vampire. As odd as that may sound. Who you are inside, which is all I care about, isn’t synonymous with any of that.”

He scrubbed his face. Would it hurt to extend the time they had together? It wouldn’t change anything in the long run, just make the holidays a little better. The secrets would be gone between them. They both knew they couldn’t be together long-term and that he’d still need to clear her memory, but it’d be postponed for a while. Hell, his grandmother would be ecstatic.

“If you’re going to spend the next two weeks with me, don’t you think you’ll need to pack a few things? Including your cat?”

CHARLOTTE ARRANGED the greenery on the fireplace mantel and glanced over at Vik, who sat on the sofa working on a crossword puzzle and petting Augustus.

She’d had a lot to think about since Trace had come clean with her last night. The least of which was the fact that he was a vampire. And so was his grandmother. Given that she’d never felt threatened around either of them, she realized that they weren’t all the fearsome monsters that books and movies made them out to be. Some of them were, Trace had admitted, like those guys in the parking lot, but most of them peacefully existed alongside humans.

“So do you, like, bite people, too?” Charlotte couldn’t picture this kindly old woman doing anything remotely violent or vicious. In fact, the thought was mildly amusing.

Vik looked at her over the top of her glasses. “Honey, I haven’t fed from a live donor in years. Too much work. Besides, our blood and energy needs decrease as we get older. I take what I need from vials. But it’s the reason I like to shop so much. A pat on a salesperson’s hand gives me just the right amount of energy.”

Charlotte smiled and made a mental note to take the woman shopping soon. Who wouldn’t want to shake this kindly old woman’s hand? “Well, you can take energy from me any time, Vik.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I think you need to keep your energy for whatshisname.” The sparkle in Vik’s eyes made Charlotte blush.

“Had he always intended to take over for his father?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, the eldest usually does. But his father—my son—was really tough on him. Took after my husband, the sonovabitch. God rest his soul. Believed in stern discipline and duty first, above all else. Including matters of the heart.” Vik reached for the silver teapot and refilled her cup. “Would you like some more tea, dear?”

“Maybe in a minute,” Charlotte answered as she tucked in a few strands of red berries. “Let me finish this section and then I’ll take a break. What do you mean by matters of the heart?”

“Because our race doesn’t produce many children, love is not considered a good enough reason to marry. A union between our people is to produce offspring, first and foremost. Love is a nonessential element. Or so the Council professes.”

“You don’t sound convinced of that philosophy.”

The china clinked as Vik set down her cup. “I just want Trace to be happy, and when I see him following in his father’s footsteps, I worry about him. Being on the Council requires political savvy. Good speaking skills. Thinking on your feet. Being able to find commonality between two opposing viewpoints and determine a compromise both sides can live with. And sometimes it requires the ability to make difficult decisions.”

“Trace is very good at all those things.”

“Yes, he is, but deep down, I believe that he still doubts himself. That doubt is at the core of who he is. He doesn’t want to go back on the promise he made to his father. But I’m afraid he’s honoring that promise at the expense of his own happiness.”

That explained a lot.

“If I were his father, I’d be very proud of him.” Charlotte hesitated, her hand on one of the pillar candles. “You didn’t marry for love?”

“No, I didn’t. But it was a good union. We had three children.”

A heaviness hung in the space around her heart as she stepped back to examine the mantel.

That was it then. She lacked the DNA that would make their union an acceptable one. If only her stubborn emotions would give up the fight so she could simply enjoy what she had today, rather than worry about tomorrow. The fact that she was falling for Trace a second time just wasn’t enough.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“WEATHERMAN SAYS SNOW this evening,” Mrs. Wilson said, as Charlotte gathered her things to leave. “I can feel it in the air.”

Earlier in the day, back at the mansion, Charlotte had received the woman’s panicked voice mail. Good thing she’d thought to check it from Trace’s home line, because her cell coverage out at Rainier Falls was sketchy at best. The table and chairs had been delivered to Mrs. Wilson’s home, but the fabric on the seats wasn’t what the woman had been expecting.