“Did you find it?” Noah asks.
“What?” I yawn as the night’s drama takes its physical toll. “Oh, the journal? No.” I give him a half-hearted smile. “Have you seen the state of that storage room?”
“Right,” he says, but his voice is distant, his tone troubled.
The sound of the front door opening carries through the apartment right before André calls, “Noah? You here?”
Aware of my red and swollen eyes, I rise from the couch. “I should go to my place.” But the chill of the catacombs still prickles my skin, and Ric’s wicked leer still haunts my mind.
Noah sees my hesitation and takes the decision out of my hands. “I have a guest room. The sheets are clean, and the bed is made.” He hands me the water and pills I still haven’t touched. “André can sleep in another room. He’ll be fine,” he says quickly, heading off my argument.
With a reluctant nod, I let him show me the way upstairs. After making sure I have all I need, Noah wishes me a good night’s sleep and leaves me alone.
My eyes are already closing as I crawl into bed. Still a little drunk and emotionally spent, I curl onto my side in the fetal position. Feeling safer than I have in days, I finally give in to exhaustion.
And sleep pulls me down like a cool, black lake.
35
I wake up to silence in Noah’s apartment. Still wearing the sweatsuit he gave me, I make up the bed, grab my discarded dress, and tiptoe downstairs.
There’s no sign of Noah. Or André, either. But I find a note on the kitchen island next to my purse.
Had to leave town for a couple of days. Family needs me to handle a business emergency.
Make yourself at home.
Noah.
Frowning, I stare at the note. I’d hoped to talk to him this morning, to apologize for getting so emotional last night.
Butthe familyinterferes again.
Like some curse I can’t get rid of.
Keeping the paper with me, I turn in a circle and scan the kitchen. Noah’s offer to stay was what I needed in the moment,but now I want a long, hot shower. In my rental, with my own shampoo, and my own clothes.
Plus, Clairee is probably waiting at the door, ready for her morning bathroom and breakfast ritual.
I check the time as I cross the courtyard. It’s after eleven, but the day is gloomy, distant clouds bruised and swollen. A sign that another storm is coming.
The perfect kind of day to stay inside, curled up with some snacks and a blanket and my cat and a book. But no lusty vampires this time. Only feel-good romances allowed. Maybe one with a puppy.
After last night, I need an emotional cleanse.
As soon as I turn the key and crack the door, Clairee slips out. She throws an unhappy mewl my way for leaving her alone all night.
“Sorry, girl. Couldn’t be helped.”
She does her business and is back in a flash.
A half hour later, I’m showered and downstairs, whipping up cheese toast and tomato soup. Comfort food. Finding a tray in the pantry, I carry it all up to the study. My laptop sits where I left it on the desk, so I have a seat and open the browser.
Unburdening myself to Noah was a good start, and my dark secret looks different laid bare to the light.
Still, whatever revelations I make in my personal life, the mansion isn’t good for my state of mind. I need to leave. Which means finding a pet-friendly hotel and moving out. That’s the plan. A solid plan.
But when the homepage loads, that solid plan crumbles.
