Matters of the Blood (25 page)

To the right and centered against an oak framed floor-to-ceiling window, a small table set for two stood in solitary splendor. The window gave a view of the heavily-wooded terrain outside. At least it would if it were daylight. Right now, all I could see was the dark mass of a tangle of live oaks. No floodlights illuminated the outdoors. I suppose vamps didn't need the false comfort of lighting the night. Well then, neither did I.

Our reflections mirrored our movements as we walked to the table, both Adam and me, and that of the maitre d'. Another myth bites the dust. I had always wondered. Never could figure out that whole mirror thing. Vampires may be dead, but they were definitely corporeal. (Now ghosts and shades, that was entirely different story. No bodies, no reflection.) A few stereotypes seemed to hold though, the love of elaborate surroundings for one.

A low centerpiece placed in the precise center of the beautifully set table spilled red and black rose petals across the immaculate white linen. Aside from the spillover from the other rooms, the only light in the room came from a pair of intricately wrought black candelabra bearing crimson candles. The entire room continued the theme—walls lined in dark red velvet, the matching carpet thick and luscious at our feet—making me feel as if we stood inside a luxurious jewelry box. It was nearly overwhelming.

Adam pulled out my chair and I sat, murmuring my thanks, then he rounded the table and took his own seat. The maitre d’ performed the standard napkin, menu and water ritual in silence, bowed and left.

I studied the exquisite menu, wondering if there were a mundane version and a vampire version. Mine showed more than five pages of gourmet treats, from appetizers onward, but nothing you couldn't find in any expensive eatery in any large city. As I skimmed the selections, my thoughts turned to other things: the other reasons I was here.

"Adam?” I began, hesitant to say anything to ruin the mood, but I knew that we needed to have this conversation.

"Yes, Keira?"

"We need to talk."

"About dinner?"

"No, about—"

"Later, love,” he said, interrupting me. “We have all night. For now, let's just enjoy."

Our gazes met over the tops of the menus, and held. All night. We did, didn't we? I looked away, not wanting to get lost again. Lost in emotions too intense to deal with in public. I glanced through the menu again, now restless, wanting this dinner to be over.

As I turned the page, I couldn't help notice that a large group seated in the dimly lit bar reminded me of the people from my vision. Tall and slender, each seemingly blonder than the next, laughing, talking and drinking, obviously enjoying themselves.

The only one I recognized was Evan, the man from the loading dock. He was behind the bar serving drinks. His Nordic good looks weren't out of place among those others. He glanced over at us, and caught me watching him. A shadow of something crossed his face, then quickly turned into a smirk. He saluted me lightly with the glass he was polishing, then turned to one of the other men at the bar. A gust of laughter exploded from the second man.

"Have you selected a wine, yet, sir?"

The maitre d's voice interrupted my thoughts. He was back. I hadn't noticed that he'd given Adam the wine list.

"Red or white, Keira?"

"I prefer red."

Movement at one of the tables just inside the main restaurant caught my eye. A man was pouring a glass of a dark deep red. The bottle was the same brand of wine that Boris delivered last night. I'd never heard of it, but I couldn't go wrong with a good robust red.

"How about a bottle of the same wine that table's having?” I said.

"What they're having?” Adam's voice sounded peculiar.

"It must be good, right?"

"Why do you say that?"

I looked at him. “Because I've seen Boris Nagy delivering a van load of the same wine here. You must sell that a lot of it, ergo, it must be good."

Adam smiled. “You could say it's one of our most popular labels, but, if it's all the same to you, tonight, I'd rather have something else.” A slow smile crossed his face as he spoke, a look in his eye telling me he wasn't only talking about the wine.

I blushed a little, remembering the heat of our earlier kiss and the implied promise of more to come. I concentrated on the wine. Safer that way.

"Do you have a Llano Estacado Cellar Select Merlot?"

"We do. A ‘96, one of the best.” Adam nodded to the hovering maitre d', who scuttled away, hopefully in direction of either the wine cellar or the wine steward.

"Any idea what else you'd like?"

"Else?"

He motioned to the menu, grinning a little, enjoying our nonverbal interchange. “For dinner, love. You need to eat."

He flustered me so easily. Damn him. Oh yeah, too late, if you subscribed to popular theory. Vampires were damned already.

I glanced over the menu again. “I'm not sure yet,” I answered, “But it's definitely going to be beef. I am in serious need of some meat."

A deep chuckle came from the other side of the table. “That could be arranged."

More innuendos. This time, I tried to ignore him.

"Might I make a suggestion?"

I took a deep breath and risked looking at him. He was smiling a Mona Lisa smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

"Okay, I asked for that,” I agreed. “Suggest away."

"Our chef makes an exquisite mesquite-grilled rib eye. Would that work for you?"

I looked him square in the face, keeping a neutral expression. “I love my meat grilled."

Our waiter, a golden-haired, chubby-cheeked youngster whose name tag identified him as Travis, hovered nearby. He was obviously new and unsure of whether he should go ahead and approach us. I grinned. Evidently Adam Walker could unsettle more than just me.

"I think the waiter is trying to get our attention."

Adam looked at Travis and motioned for him to come closer. As he approached, I realized the boy didn't exude any power or feeling of otherness. Could he be human? Odd. He didn't even look like the typical Goth-wanna-be, more like the nerd next door. Maybe Adam did employ humans.

The young man cleared his throat and had barely started reciting the litany of specials when Adam raised his hand.

"Thank you, Travis, but I believe we already know what we'd like."

Adam looked at me as he paused, the enigmatic smile back on his face. The heat rushed to my face and I looked down at my place setting. He was going to have to stop this or we'd never be able to eat dinner. I was likely to grab him and drag him out of here.

"May I take your order then, sir?” The young man, eager as a puppy, was either better at ignoring the byplay than I was or just completely clueless.

"I'd like the mesquite-grilled rib eye,” I answered, disconcerting the boy, who'd been addressing Adam.

"I'm sorry, yes, of course.” He nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. “How would you like that prepared?

"Bruised and brought in. Blood on the inside. Barely warm."

"Yes, ma'am."

He didn't miss a beat. There was hope for the boy yet. “That comes with garlic mashed potatoes and baby grilled vegetables. Would that be satisfactory?"

"Garlic?” I looked at Adam.

"Afraid I'll stay away?” He grinned, barely flashing a glimpse of fang.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten before I spoke.

"That would be fine, thank you, Travis."

Travis turned to look at Adam.

"Your usual, sir?"

Adam closed his menu and handed it over. “Yes, my usual."

Travis nodded and with relief, collected the menus and made himself scarce.

"How old is he?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Only because he's human and I want to make sure he's of legal age."

Adam grinned. “No worries, Keira Kelly,” he said. “Travis looks rather young, but he's legal. He's the son of my daytime manager."

"Good.” I wasn't sure what I'd have done if the boy had been as young as he looked. It really wasn't my business. But it would have bothered me.

The sommelier arrived then. Adam played his part in the customary wine ritual, examining the cork, swirling the ruby liquid in the glass, and taking a small sip. He nodded his head and the man poured and left.

I tasted the wine. “This is fabulous."

The oaky plum flavor burst on my tongue and teased my palate. The start of what I hoped would be an excellent meal, that is, if Adam could rein back his impulse to tease me. Not that it really mattered, his very presence was enough to fluster me if I didn't concentrate on other things.

"It is a most excellent wine,” Adam agreed. He lifted his glass in salute. “It's only made better by the company."

I stared down at my wine stem and played with the edge of the glass. He was so very good at this and I was too long out of practice. I'd forgotten how to flirt. Maybe it was because now it wasn't a game anymore.

I changed the subject. “So, what's your usual?” I asked. “Not..."

I didn't really want to say the word out loud, it was just too open, too not-hidden. The idea of speaking about things like this in public was a little more than I wanted to handle. I'd spent too many years being raised in the so-called normal world, spent too much time mainstreaming in human society. My instinct was to hide who I was, to play the I'm-only-human game.

Adam smiled, leaning forward a little in his chair as if to whisper to me. “I can eat many things.” The smile broadened into an even white grin.

The words flowed like rich honey over me and I felt the heat sliding up my face. This was going to be a very long dinner.

Adam's usual wasn't a bucket of blood, but turned out to be a gorgeous filet mignon, delicate as a rose and served as rare as my rib eye. He'd dispensed with any of the side dishes, instead, the little jewel of a steak sat precisely in the center of the plate, commanding all the attention.

I took a bite of my own steak. The tender meat was exquisitely flavored, the woodsy taste of the mesquite complementing the beef. As I picked up my glass to take a sip of wine, Adam captured my gaze with a look and another one of his enigmatic smiles.

I watched him, wondering what he was up to. He lifted his knife with a bit of a flourish, and cut through the seared outer layer of his steak, parting the interior, revealing the tender red center, glistening with juices that ran across the pristine white china, staining its snowy perfection, red mixed with clear, enticing.

He speared the slice with his fork, and, still staring at me, transferred it to his mouth and chewed slowly, lips working sensuously, tongue flicking out to taste the full flavor as he swallowed. I'd come to a full stop and couldn't look away, captivated by his movements, catching a glimpse of extended fangs, prey captured by her predator. I watched, fascinated as a drop of the steak's bloody juices landed on his lower lip. I had to force myself to keep my hands still and not reach over to wipe the drop from his mouth, or worse, lean over and lick it off.

He smiled again, a wicked, knowing look in his eye. Instead of dabbing at the blood with his napkin, he ran his tongue slowly across his lower lip, licking it clean, leaving it shiny and wet. I shivered and found myself leaning forward, mimicking his gesture as my own tongue flicked out and gingerly touched my own lips.

"Well, looks like you two are having a great time."

Talk about freakin’ interruptus. I couldn't even look at Adam. Part of my brain cursed whoever it was, the other part breathed a silent “thank you,” knowing that I'd been so very close to losing control.

I turned to look at the man who'd spoken and was almost sorry I had. My skin flushed even hotter and I lowered my eyes in embarrassment, recognizing the young redhead of the other night. The one that stood in front of my car in my vision. The one who—Bloody hell. It
had
been a vision, right?

"What do you need, Niko?” I could tell from the tone of Adam's voice that he wasn't happy to have been interrupted.

So this was Niko the wildlife manager. Different. While Adam's power was completely contained, otherness surrounded this vampire, clinging to his skin, his clothes, his very self, a shimmering bubble of energy, a bubble that had weight and substance, almost tangible. Still not as powerful as Adam, but the potential was there.

Up close he didn't seem as young as he'd looked in my vision. The face was unlined and, at first glance, he'd pass for twenty, but there was a heaviness of experience behind the luminous blue eyes that only came with years. His pale skin shone against the deep black of his velvet pirate shirt floating untucked over equally black leggings tucked into low boots. A blood-red brocade vest embroidered with black traceries topped off the Goth ensemble. Long reddish-blond hair swept just past his shoulders, set off by the rich dark colors of his clothing. Niko was so definitely not trying to pass. The words “barnyard rooster” came to mind.

Niko's eyes flickered over to me momentarily, then back to Adam. “Just being courteous and greeting our ... guest."

He turned to me and smiled broadly, flaunting a hint of fang. “But now, I'm sure the young lady here would like to finish her meal. Perhaps indulge in some dessert?” I could sense the intended double meaning behind his so polite words. Niko was as much of a tease as his boss, if not more so. I hoped this wasn't typical behavior for all vampires. One teasing bloodsucker I could handle, and wanted to, but all of them? Not even a consideration.

"Go away, Niko,” Adam did not sound amused.

Niko's twinkling eyes crinkled at the corners. It didn't take a genius to know he was very well aware of just what he'd interrupted. I was convinced he'd done it on purpose. I already didn't like him much. Niko grinned again, and then snapped a small bow before leaving.

"Did he just interrupt us to be rude?” I asked, spearing a slice of meat on my fork.

"Niko can be a little impulsive,” he answered. “I think he wanted to check you out."

I raised an eyebrow. He'd done more than check me out in my vision, damn it. Even though it hadn't actually happened, I definitely got the feeling Niko was fully capable of playing the glamour ticket. His arrival alone had been a calculated act of passive-aggressiveness, intended to disrupt our meal and our rather heavy flirtation. Jealous? Or just too damned curious? I wondered what exactly his and Adam's relationship had been over the years. Employer and employee, friends, more? Niko definitely gave off some interesting vibes.