Shit. Her father.
Oliver instantly dropped her hand, then peered over when Bijou chuckled softly.
“Doesn’t take much to intimidate you, does it?”
“Are you an angel?” he asked, though even as the words came out, he realized they sounded like a cheesy pickup line.
When she smiled, Oliver was awestruck, his eyes fixated on the pointed canines the move revealed.
“Vampire.”
“Vampire?” Confused, he waited for the punchline. When one never came, he cleared his throat. “You’re serious.”
“Very. Why? What are you?”
“Human.” Though he appeared to be in the minority here in this mansion.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Oliver the human,” she said kindly, laying her soft fingers on top of his hand.
There was an immense pressure somewhere in the center of his chest. It was difficult to breathe, though air seemed to be filtering in and out of his lungs just fine.
“Are you staying here? With the angels?” he asked, glancing up when one of the servers came over, carrying ceramic pots of coffee and a tray full of mugs.
“My father’s seeking refuge for me here,” she said, her gaze still moving over his face as though she was as surprised to see him as he was her.
“Refuge? Are you in danger?”
“Only from the demons hell-bent on eliminating the vampire race.”
Oliver let the words penetrate his gray matter. He tossed them around, but no matter how hard he tried, they didn’t make sense. Vampires?
“And you? Are you staying here?” Bijou asked.
He nodded.
“Because you’re in danger?”
“You could say that… I mean, no. Not anymore. I was. From my girlfriend. I mean, ex-girlfriend. She was a demon. Is. Sheisa demon. Or maybe she’s dead. I don’t know.”
Her soft laugh settled over him like an ocean breeze.
Oliver realized he sounded like an idiot, but no amount of acknowledgement was making his tongue work any better. He was completely awestruck by this … vampire. Bijou. She was lovely, in a way he’d never seen before.
When Bijou ducked her head, Oliver realized he was still staring.
“I apologize,” he said softly.
“Don’t,” she said, her hand resting on his once more. “I like the way you look at me.”
His eyes flipped back to her face. “You do?”
She nodded and he detected an innocence about her, one he didn’t expect to encounter this day and age.
He was captivated by the shiny black hair that slipped over her shoulder when she moved, the way her light green eyes surveyed the room constantly, as though seeking danger.
“How long have you been here?” she prompted after he passed her a cup of coffee.
“Almost three months, I think. Time seems irrelevant these days. One minute bleeds into the next.” He smiled as he reached for the small pot of cream.
