Needingsomethingtocoolmy nerves after visiting my sire, I stopped off at the Enchanted Teapot for a cappuccino. I sat at the table and breathed deeply, enjoying the steam as it curled up, even while I stewed over the information, or lack thereof, that I’d received from my sire.
If Dante Artois wasn’t involved, the next logical place to check would be the local vampires. Mason, their leader, hadn’t appeared thrilled when he’d found out that Lydia and I had gotten married. Not to mention the death stare from my ex, Sephira, at the Winter Festival. She was crazy enough for almost anything, and it was clearshewasn’t happy about my marriage.
Maybe they were setting me up as punishment for not following the vampire ways.
All the more reason Lydia and I should get an annulment. Everything might all go away if we ended things.
At the Enchanted Teapot, the coffee pots broke out in song at their whim. They sang four-part harmonies in the style of a barbershop quartet. With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, they had shifted to songs with a more romantic bent. At the moment, they were performingEchoes of a Maybe.Austen Heights was always a little strange like that. Though the holiday was still a month away, shop windows were already dressed in pink and red, and tiny sprites flitted about, delivering early Valentine’s cards.
I tried not to let their sentimental mood make me think too much of Lydia. I gazed out the window at the bright winter day, trying not to see Lydia’s smile in the way the sun glistened off the fresh powder, or the way her fire made me feel as warm as the drink in my hands.
A sigh escaped me. This was the compulsion from my sire. It had to be. I needed to see her; there was no use putting it off.
I froze. Lydia rounded the corner outside the shop, about to walk past the Enchanted Teapot.I moved, hunkering down inthe window display behind the sled and birch tree decorated with miniature paper hearts.
“Psst… what are you up to?”
I nearly jumped. Only another vampire could sneak up on me like that. I glanced over. Bradley crouched beside me. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”
He grinned. “Sorry, man. So what are we hiding from?”
While I’d mentioned nothing about the police or dead body on my doorstep, I’d spent the evening before filling him in on the murder of our band manager and our female lead singer, who offed him for stealing her lyrics. But we still hadn’t broached the subject of why I came back married. I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk about that, even with him.
I pointed out the window. “Lydia.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re hiding from Lydia, your wife?”
“Ha ha. Yes.”
“Okay… do I want to know why?”
“My sire compelled me to keep an eye on her.”
Bradley’s eyes widened. “Okay, now I’m really lost.”
Lydia walked past, and I sank lower, pulling Bradley out of the way with me. She stared at her phone as she hurried by without looking up.
After she was gone, I released a relieved sigh, giving up my hold on Bradley. Maybe I didn’t have to confront Lydia. I’d fulfill my sire’s compulsion by watching her from a small distance.
I rose from my spot, slapping Bradley on the back. “I’ll explain later.”
“You better.” He cocked his head. “Even for being… one of us… you are a rather odd one.”
I smiled, moving toward the door. “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”
He chuckled. “That’s true.” He lifted a hand and said a tad too loudly, “Have fun spying on your wife.” He cast me a mischievous grin.
I rolled my eyes as I headed out the door of the Enchanted Teapot.
The cold winter air hit me, chilling any exposed skin instantly. People strolled up and down the street bundled in heavy coats, dodging icy patches on the sidewalk. Icicles hung off the roofs of the shops, sometimes clanking together musically in the breeze.
It was rather easy to follow her. Lydia constantly became immersed in her pursuits and rarely took breaks to observe her surroundings. It was that single-minded determination,her unbending obstinacy that had gotten me out of my last predicament.
She’d do that again if I let her. Over and over.
But even though she was a witch, she was still half-human, which made her vulnerable. Eventually, she’d bite off more than even she could chew. I’d never forgive myself if I were the cause of it.
She sat alone at a table outside the Toasted Spoon, a small sandwich shop near the local church, still staring at her screen. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Seizing it, I moved the ringer to silent. I felt quite certain I wasn’t near enough for her to perceive it, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
