Setting boundaries. That was Claire. This wasn’t about spending the night, only about spending some time together before work in the morning. He smiled as he typed back.
See you soon.
When he stepped through the doorway, she grasped his shirt in both hands, pulled him to her, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Tai pushed his fingers through her hair and kissed her back with everything inside him—the coming-home feeling; the icy pleasure that coursed through his veins when her lips hardened, when she sighed; the leftover protective fury that pulsed at the memory of Broderick’s words, as if he’d been talking about Claire and not someone random. Tai’s heart thumped hard, once, twice, and Claire pressed her palm there.
“Tai?”
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
“It’s good to kiss you.” She smirked, then kissed him again.
They cuddled on the couch for a while, and then Claire sat up and tugged his tie, which had loosened bit by bit over the last minutes.
“So how was the work event?”
He’d let her think it was related to Josie Strong only because Dr. Levine’s “consortium,” as he called it, was sworn to secrecy on the identity of all members as well as all matters discussed there. Tai had objected to that in the beginning, but Laurence assured him it was an unwritten courtesy, not an enforced rule, and everyone understood that if ethical lines were ever crossed, their fellow members would be obligated not to cover it up but rather to expose it.
With all this in mind, he could tell her a little. It was Claire, after all.
“Not work,” he said. “I’m part of this…well, think tank, I guess you could call it? It’s a group of vampires who get together and talk about events—national and local—and strategize things like public policy and ethics.”
Her lips parted. “That’s…impressive.”
He laughed. “Laurence brought me in. I’m one of the least impressive vampires there and probably the youngest.”
“You’re in the room with senators and other influential people who want your ideas, your opinions. Otherwise Laurence wouldn’t have asked you, right?”
He shrugged, then had to nod. She had summed it up exactly, cut to the chase as she did so well.
“And whatever you contribute, it’s extremely valuable, because it’s you.”
Those words froze him from the inside out. He didn’t know how to process them, what to do with them. She kissed him again, proof she meant what she said. Claire always did. She framed his face between her hands and traced his cheekbones with her thumbs.
“My bloodfiend friend told me to give you his number,” she said. “His name is Peter Updike, and he said you’re welcome to call him any time.”
The prospect was terrifying, but if it could make him a safer vampire… “Thank you.”
Claire texted him Peter Updike’s number, and as his phone screen lit up, the gravity of it fully hit him. It was up to him now to call a stranger and ask for help. He needed a subject change and just then remembered a question he kept forgetting to ask.
“What happened with your dress? Did the dry cleaner tell you yet?”
She bit her lip and looked away. “The skirt had a bad tear in the back. I don’t know how I didn’t feel or hear it when it happened—I guess adrenaline. They said even mended, it would be obvious.”
Shoot. She’d been proud of that dress, proud of the purchase and what it represented. “What was the brand?”
She told him the brand as well as her size, then said, “I highly doubt they’re still making that exact gown.”
“Let me work on it.” He’d search the four corners of the earth if he had to, whatever it cost. “If I can’t get the exact color, do you want the closest option?”
“Yes, please, but err on the side of purple, not blue.”
“Not a cool green?”
“Not for this one. It was meant to be that color. Or maybe a more purple color.”
“I’m on it,” he said.
“Okay. Thank you, Tai.”
