Fangs for the Memories (18 page)

“Well, perhaps you should just go back to bed, then.”

She immediately looked relieved.

“In fact, I’ll join you.”

He knew that was low—and made him look like a man who didn’t keep his word. So he was absolutely shocked when she said, “Okay.”

She glanced at her bed and then at him. But he didn’t see desire in her eyes, rather worry. Not the look he wanted from her when he took her back to his bed—or her bed.

Why would she change her mind about waiting? Just to get him to stay here? Something was not right.

“No,” he stated, even though his body was calling him a thousand different kinds of fool. “Tonight we are going to have a proper outing.”

She dipped her chin, the minute nod he knew meant she was agreeing, but she wasn’t really sure she should.

He nodded, too, and then closed the door.

He headed to the living room to look for Sebastian. He’d originally stopped by Jane’s room to see if she had located him. But then her sleepwear had distracted him—and then her proposition.

The living room was empty when he entered. He opened his mouth to yell for Sebastian,
then
snapped it shut. Shouting did get on his brother’s nerves—and Rhys supposed it was a tad rude. He needed to watch himself if he was ever going to succeed in making Jane believe she wasn’t marrying a total brute.

Tonight, he intended to make a good impression. Court her properly as she deserved. That was, of course, if he could get her to leave the house.

He walked to the library. The room was empty as well.

Where the hell was Sebastian? He paused and listened for a moment. He couldn’t sense Sebastian in the house.

He frowned, wondering how he could be so sure he wasn’t there just by listening. He didn’t know how, but he was positive his brother was out.

Sebastian was at his club again, Rhys was sure. He spent most nights there. Sebastian was obsessed with women.

For the first time, Rhys understood that obsession. He’d always enjoyed women, but he’d never been preoccupied with them—until Jane. He’d do anything for her—to have her.

He went back to the living room to wait for her. Settling in one of the chairs, he reached for the book Sebastian had been reading.
Salem
’s
Lot
?
He flipped the book over and read the back cover.

Vampires.

He grimaced and dropped the novel back on the table.

Rhys glanced at the doorway, wondering if Jane would even appear. She really was adamant that they should stay here. Was she nervous about being in such a large town? He knew
London
was probably far bigger than any place she’d ever been, but he really believed she would enjoy the bustle once she got used to it.

To his relief, Jane did soon enter into the room—and he was rather surprised to see that she had on warm clothes and carried her coat.

He stood. “Are you ready, then?”

She
nodded,
another one of those tiny bobs of her head.

“You will see so many fantastic sights that you won’t help but have a good time.” He smiled reassuringly. “I promise.”

Another slight nod, but when he turned to lead her into the kitchen, he heard her mutter, “They probably won’t be as fantastic to me as they will be to you.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, frowning. Why would she say that?

“I didn’t say anything,” she promptly replied, but he could see distinct discomfit in her eyes.

He decided to let the comment go for the time being. After all, she was going out with him, and he didn’t want to ruin that success.

Jane watched as Rhys grabbed a coat from the rack by the door. The same black coat he’d worn the night he’d saved her.

Guilt ripped through her—she didn’t seem to be able to save him. But she’d done everything she could think of—including offer to go to bed with him. She probably would have been offended by his refusal if she wasn’t so worried about him.

He shrugged on the coat and then opened a door off the kitchen, which led into a long, almost industrial looking hallway. Metal ducts and bare wallboard ran the length of it. At the end was a freight elevator, nothing more than a huge cage with a gate that manually pulled down once the individuals were inside.

How strange that the hall would be so different than the luxurious apartment. But what was even stranger was that she had no idea that this part of the building existed. It really was as if she’d been dropped into a fantasy world, unaware of anything outside of the apartment.

Not for the first time, it hit her how weird this situation was—and it was about to get weirder yet again.
And potentially damaging to Rhys.

She just couldn’t think of anything to get him to stay— outside of finding Sebastian. He was probably in the nightclub, but she didn’t think bringing Rhys into a club with flashing lights and loud music would be good for his mental state. And she couldn’t figure out how to get away from him. He was determined to take this outing.

They reached the elevator, and he easily lifted the grate, holding it for her to enter. Once she was inside, he got in and pulled down the metal grid. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the black button marked G for ground level.

Jane stared at the button,
then
looked up at
Rhys’s
profile. His face was composed, serene.

He wasn’t confused by the elevator. He understood exactly how it worked.

She frowned. Now that she thought about it, he wasn’t confused by anything modern.
Lights, plumbing, the digital clock this morning.
Why hadn’t she noticed that before?

“Do most buildings in
London
have elevators?” she suddenly asked him.

He considered the question,
then
shrugged. “I would think the bigger ones do.”

“And do all the buildings have lights?”

He nodded.
“Of course.
We are hardly primitives here.” He smiled at her as though he thought she must be daft.

Why hadn’t Sebastian noticed this? Had he? Had he asked the doctor why
Rhys’s
amnesia appeared to be selective?

“Here we are.” Rhys threw up the metal gate as if it was little more than a rolling blind.

They stepped out into another hall that matched the one upstairs.

He led her to a heavy steel door with several deadbolts. He unlocked them, then said loudly, “Mick, lock these behind us.”

Jane glanced around until she realized there was a small room, back up the hallway.

The huge Mick stood in the doorway; the faint bluish light of electronics flickered behind him. He nodded in greeting as she stared at him.

She nodded back,
then
quickly glanced away.

Rhys stepped outside and waited for her, his hand extended to help her down the step. She accepted it and joined him outside. The heavy door slammed, and they were in a dim alley.

Back where they’d begun, she thought ironically.

Rhys must have caught her wry expression. “Not the best view to start your adventure with, but come this way.”

Still holding her fingers, he tugged her toward the brighter lights of the street.

The faint rumble of bass sounded from inside the building, and Jane realized the noise must be coming from the nightclub.

They reached the street, and for the first time, Jane got to see the outside of the building where she’d been living.

It was a large, brick warehouse, although a gothic façade had been added to the front. Gargoyles and spires decorated the roof. The windows were stained glass, colorful patterns that glowed with each flash of the lights inside. Two more large gargoyles, crouched and poised to leap, guarded the front entrance. Over the double doors in scrawling blood red neon was the name
Carfax
Abbey.

She stopped, which forced Rhys to stop, too.

Again, she was struck by the surrealism of her situation, that she’d been living in a building that held three distinct worlds.

Two very odd looking characters, with ashen complexions, heavy eye makeup and black leather clothes, came up the sidewalk toward them. They gave Jane and Rhys curious looks before going up the few steps and into the club.

She hesitated a moment, then decided maybe she should risk taking Rhys inside the club to find Sebastian. She needed to tell him about
Rhys’s
selective memory. “Maybe we should go in and look for Sebastian.”

“Sebastian? Why would he be in there?” Rhys followed her gaze.

“This is his club.”

Rhys snorted and cast a disgusted look at another crowd of
goths
as they approached the club. “No, no. These are hardly the sort of people our family would associate with.”

Jane glanced at the group, giving them an apologetic smile. Once they passed, barely acknowledging either of them, she asked, “Where is Sebastian’s club?”

“White’s?
It’s not far. Although we cannot visit him there, it’s a gentlemen’s club.”

Rhys didn’t remember his own nightclub, the club he owned with Sebastian, but he did remember the name of a nineteenth century club. Why?

A yellow taxi honked loudly behind them, causing her to jump. Rhys didn’t even react, except to look over his shoulder and frown at the driver.

Then he asked, “Should we take a public conveyance, or would you prefer to walk?”

She stared at him for a moment. “I think I’d like to walk.” She needed the cold air to clear her head and help her make sense of all this.

They walked in silence, the sounds of the city making the quiet between them less noticeable. And it gave Jane a chance to watch him, to study his reaction to his surroundings.
A police car with its sirens blaring.
A youth with his ears, eyebrows and lips multiply pierced.
Brightly lit signs.
Skyscrapers.
Traffic.

None of it gave him the slightest pause.

He definitely had selective memory loss, which made her think, again, that there was something in particular he was trying to forget. But was this type of amnesia more or less severe?

Part of her thought it might be less serious as he had fewer things to remember, because most of his memories were still there. But another argument could be made that the ailment was worse, because it wouldn’t be as easy for something to jar his memory and force him to remember. He could just continue to adapt everything to his own belief system.

He needed a doctor. That much she knew for sure.
And not the quack who had diagnosed him over the phone.
He needed a specialist, and she was going to see that he got one.

“Look,” Rhys said suddenly, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward a large plate-glass window. The storefront was filled with
animatronic
elves and reindeer. The holiday decorations were still up until the New Year.

The creatures worked diligently and repetitively to build the toys to fill Santa’s sleigh.

“That is amazing,” he said, his golden eyes filled with amazement and delight.

She couldn’t help but smile. It was like watching a person see something for the first time. But he must have. Why would he forget something like that?

“Look at this one,” he said, tugging her on to the next store before she could consider a reason.

Hand in hand, they walked down the crowded street, stopping to admire the beauty and whimsy of the holiday decorations. And soon, Jane decided to put
Rhys’s
ailment out of her mind, just for tonight. He was obviously enjoying himself—and so was she.

“
Elizabeth
should be here,” he said suddenly as they peered through a window at more automated creatures—this time old-fashioned dolls in Victorian clothes, waving candles and singing carols. “She used to be crazy about her dolls. She had dozens.”

He glanced at Jane, an indulgent smile on his lips. “She was extremely spoiled being the only girl.”

“I can imagine. It must be nice to have three older brothers.”

“She is very easy to spoil,” he said, casting one last look at the dolls before gently squeezing her fingers and starting down the sidewalk again. “She is very fragile, often sick. But she’s always full of laughter, despite her health. She says that she can’t be too serious—that it is my job to be the serious one.”

Jane considered that description. The Rhys she’d met in the bar had seemed serious—more than serious, almost grim. But now, she couldn’t correlate that person to the one holding her hand. This Rhys could be determined and serious, but he also smiled, a lot.

“Maybe she mixes up serious with responsible,” she suggested.

Rhys’s
step faltered for a moment. “Why do you say that?”