Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1) (9 page)

“Partially.” I had no intention of mentioning the banishment petition.

I’m not sure how long we went back and forth, but Ian listened to my answers as carefully as I did to his. The only
question he refused to answer was his age, and the only time
I
balked was when he asked whether I was in love with Nicky.

It would have been a rude question at any time, but was particularly deplorable today. And that concluded our Q & A.

Though exhausted, I denied it when Ian asked if I wanted to sleep. I’d been yawning throughout the conversation, but he was too polite to contradict me. Instead, he asked if I’d like to watch a movie, which received as coherent a yes as my current capabilities allowed. If nothing else, a movie might keep me awake while we waited.

I stopped trying to memorize my way around when I remembered I couldn’t open the doors, but Ian led me to a living room. The room—sky blue with silver crown molding—had little decoration beyond the television screens that covered an entire wall.

He picked up a remote and turned the screens on. “My collection is digital. You can scroll through and pick whatever you like.”

I was too overwhelmed to look and accepted with relief when he offered to choose. With a few clicks, Ian selected the first Harry Potter film and settled onto a silvery brocade armchair with his cell phone, leaving the blue leather sofa for me. According to him, each Harry Potter movie lasted more than two hours. All I had to do was stay awake through two movies before the sun would rise and Ian would need to sleep.

Hopefully I’d have a brainstorm before then.

CHAPTER TEN

I
am in no way a morning person, so it
was a rare treat to wake up rested and refreshed. Then the memories of last night returned, like a brick dropping on my chest.

The last thing I remembered was Ron Weasley being stabbed off his stone horse during a life-sized game of wizard chess. I also remembered speaking with my newly introduced vampire patron, Ian, and though I’d vowed to stay awake my exhaustion had triumphed.

The good news was that despite my lax behavior I’d lived to see another day. My patron had even brought me a blanket after I’d crashed. I stretched my hands in an attempt to get my bearings, moving my fingers an inch at a time toward the edge.

I couldn’t reach the edge of the sofa, but the fabric beneath me felt so comforting I was tempted to embrace denial and pretend I was still home in bed.

Wait a minute. Fabric? The sofa had been leather. Shit. Further groping confirmed it. I hadn’t slept on a leather sofa. I’d slept in Ian’s velvet covered bed—the enormous work of art I’d admired yesterday.

I began clutching my clothes in a panic. Sweatshirt—check. Jeans—check. Shoes… No shoes. Had I been wearing shoes? I couldn’t remember.

Not that I had any reason to worry about my clothes, I reassured myself. Given the nature of the appeal I held for Ian my virginity faced less threat here than it did at home. And it wasn’t much pursued there either.

Slightly reassured, I began inching across the bed. It took a while, but eventually I reached the edge and worked my legs from beneath the covers. As soon as my feet touched the floor the fireplace leapt to life and I squeaked in embarrassed surprise. 

“I wondered when you’d awaken.” Ian sat in the same chair he’d used previously, the one facing the fire. His expression was lost in shadow but he sounded eager, which made exactly one of us.

“What the hell, were you watching me sleep?”

He turned to face me, visible annoyance stamped on his face in the firelight. “Not to point out the obvious, but you’re in
my
bedroom and there are things I need in here. Also, this happens to be my favorite chair. However, to answer your question, no, I did not sit here for hours watching you sleep. I slept a few hours and then left to retrieve Dominic’s vehicle. I also wanted to procure something other than frozen food, on the assumption that you’d be hungry.”

“Anything else I should be aware of?” My sarcasm sailed visibly over Ian’s head and he answered me seriously.

“There is. After you fell asleep I checked the security footage.”

His words sucked the air out of my lungs and I dropped onto the other chair as I spoke. “Security footage? You mean from cameras? If everything from yesterday was recorded, why didn’t you watch it immediately?”

Ian shook his head, visibly conserving his patience. “No. When a guest enters with a door code, it deactivates the inside cameras for privacy. However, no guest has the authority to alter the outside cameras and there’s a digital record of the front exit.”

“Whatever it is, say it quickly.” I couldn’t handle a suspenseful delivery.

“Well,” he murmured as I whimpered, “the good news is that he was still moving. Unfortunately, the upper portion of his shirt was soaked…” His voice faded as he gestured to his own torso.

“Never mind, I get the idea.” I hugged my knees to my body and closed my eyes before the picture could form.

“Aurora, I’ll do everything I can to return him to you and Luigi, regardless of the circumstances.”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak of such ‘circumstances’. If I acknowledged his words, I’d shatter. I couldn’t even open my eyes as I responded, “Is there anything else, anything at all?”

“Yes, but it’s only a small thing in the interest of full disclosure,” he hastily assured me as my eyes opened and fired in fear. “Your nightmares kept waking me so I willed them to pleasant, innocuous dreams. By the way, do you know you sometimes snore?”

He tacked the last bit on as an afterthought while I gaped.

“Only when I’m tired,” I finally muttered. Then I wanted to slap myself. My response was so inadequate I didn’t know where to begin criticizing it. For one thing, I only snored the tiniest bit and only when at an extreme sleep deficit. And why did I care whether this obsessive compulsive vampire had heard me snore? Surely this was a non-issue under the circumstances.

With a Herculean effort, I shook the remaining sleep from my head. I vaguely recalled dreams of kittens and flowers, subjects apparently deemed ‘innocuous and pleasant’ by Ian. Before last night, I’d never dreamed of either one.

At least I was still dressed, I consoled myself. As long as I was clothed, I still
looked
like I had a semblance of control. Besides, despite it being a new day, the
do not antagonize
rule remained in effect. Assuming it was daytime.

That became my first order of business and I inquired about the time in an attempt at normalcy. In response, Ian lifted a shoulder and gestured to a grandfather clock near the bed. I hadn’t heard anything, so the chimes were clearly deactivated.

The brass hands showed half past eight, and I deduced it was 8:30 at night by the brass moon currently showing on the clock face. I’d slept through the entire day. With that established, I turned back to my host, looking at him politely. “What happens now?”

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers except for his thumbs and forefingers, which he pressed together. “You have some decisions to make.”

Bit of an understatement, but I declined to press the point. “As my host, do you have a preference as to which decision I make first?”

His face brightened. “Now that you mention it, yes. You slept for nearly fifteen hours and must be starving. Why don’t you tell me what you’d like for breakfast? Or would you prefer dinner?”

I resisted the urge to smack my head against the fireplace mantle only by reminding myself of my current and numerous bruises.

Which were no longer there.

I examined my unblemished hands and looked at Ian suspiciously.

He dropped his gaze and muttered, “It seemed only fair to remove them, since I
did
cause them. I have to say, I hadn’t realized the extent of the damage, especially to your legs and your, uh…” He trailed off as he realized his error. If possible, he turned another shade whiter as I leapt up.

“How would you know about my legs?” I yelped indignantly. So much for having remained clothed.

He jumped up so fast he stood upright before my brain had acknowledged the movement, holding his hands as if to ward off my wrath. “Some of your dreams were painful, due to your injuries. And after I healed your wrists and throat where I had grabbed them, I realized there were more, but I couldn’t see everything…”

“Do you like pancakes?” he concluded somewhat desperately. “I have everything necessary to make pancakes!”   

The absurdity of my situation caught up with me. I’d spent the night fleeing one vampire who’d kidnapped and possibly killed my friend, then being observed by another. Ian had stripped me down, healed me up, redressed me, tucked me into bed and made me dream of kittens and daffodils. And now he wanted to cook pancakes.

Despite everything, the humor was hard to miss.

“Pancakes would be fine,” I said graciously and he led me to his stainless steel masterpiece of a kitchen—complete with adjoining laundry room.

Watching Ian cook was a surprise. His pancakes trounced any I could have made, full of blackberries and drowned in syrup and melted butter. My mood vastly improved after eating, which had probably been Ian’s plan all along.

The real mystery was why he cared about my mood to begin with.

Once full, I reassessed the situation. As if sensing my change of mood, Ian made short work of the cleanup and settled down across the table from me.

“Okay.” I spoke slowly, as if the extra time would make my predicament more manageable. “My biggest concern is finding Nicky, followed by how to get home and what to do once I get there.”

Ian nodded solemnly. “Getting you home is the easiest. If it is your wish, I could return you to your square within five minutes, but you need a plan. Besides, the sun has set and you would be locked out,” he noted practically.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “I need to decide what to say and to whom—wait, did you say
five minutes
?”

His shoulder jerked as if it was no big deal. “Five minutes for
you
. Returning the truck will take considerably longer, but I am unsure what explanation works if you return with Dominic’s truck and no Dominic.”

Tears welled and I dug my nails into my palms as he continued.

“Sometimes it helps to say the options aloud. Start babbling and let’s see what comes out.” I was relieved enough at his implied assistance to not pick a fight over the word ‘babbling’.

“Well, Nicky is frequently gone for days at a time, so he won’t be missed for a few days. The only person who knows
we left together is my best friend, and even she won’t expect us to return together.” I thought briefly of Amy and felt a throb of longing to see her, even as Ian furrowed his eyebrows in disapproval.

“No matter how close a friend she is, you cannot tell her about this. Also, since I assume she’ll be curious about your trip, it would be wise to have a story prepared.”

I winced at the thought of dodging Amy, who would no doubt be dying to hear everything. And then it hit me. “Oh shit.”

Ian glanced around in alarm. “What? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” I said impatiently. “However, is there any chance you might have a turkey roaster somewhere in this place? Or perhaps some decent fabric scissors?”

Ian’s eyes lit in comprehension. “You told your friend you were going scavenging and she made a wish list.”

“You’ve got it.” I smiled ruefully. “I know I can’t tell her the truth, but it’s hard to come up with a suitable story in which I can’t find
anything
she asked for.” 

“A turkey roaster and fabric scissors?” Ian became abruptly business-like again. “Anything else?”

I reeled off the rest of Amy’s list from memory, and Ian nodded. “I’m sure I can find a few of those items before you leave. There is no point in your raising suspicion if it can be avoided.” 

Under different circumstances I would’ve laughed. “That’s the least of my worries when it comes to people being suspicious. Even with Luigi gone I only have a week at most before someone raises the alarm regarding Nicky’s absence. He has several valuable deliveries scheduled soon.”

My words triggered another memory and I did laugh, bitterly, as I remembered Nicky saying how important these deliveries were. “As if all this crap wasn’t enough, without those deliveries, Gigi will come home to a ruined business and no funds for his old age.”

Ian probed delicately, “Do you have enough information on the deliveries to make them yourself?”

I wondered whether he’d lost his mind. “The delivery manifest is locked in the truck, but I don’t know how to drive, and even if I did, that would hardly help hide Nicky’s absence. If anything, my making his deliveries would make it more obvious.”

With an aggrieved sigh, Ian heaved himself up. Since he normally stood like he’d sat on a tack, it was safe to say his weariness stemmed solely from dealing with me.

“I’ll help you make it all work,” he said. Then he walked to a door and opened it. “My friend will be arriving shortly, but I have a lot to do beforehand if we want to pull this off. I’ve programmed the necessary rooms to accept the fingerprint of your right index finger. Why don’t you finish last night’s movie before you go to bed? I’ll be in my office.”

I tried to speak, but he kept going. 

“If there is an emergency, the button below each scan pad serves as an intercom, but I would hear any problems before you could call anyway.” He left before I could remind him I’d slept all day and wasn’t the least bit tired.