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That thought led to another—a rather inspired idea, if she did say so herself. Her friend might actually kill her, but it was worth a try. “Your options are limited. But there’s a concert tonight in the jazz hall. Do you like country?” And before he got the wrong idea, she added, “A bunch of us are going, and you’re welcome to come along.”
Her friends wouldn’t mind at all. Well, with the exception of Toni, who would see right through her. She’d be mad, sure, but she might also be grateful, if only for the eye candy.
“Country. In a jazz hall?”
Before she could explain that the club had once played primarily jazz but was now home to all sorts of music, he said, “Sure,” and then pointed to a curve in the trail. “How far are you running?”
Holy shit. She couldn’t believe they’d come so far already, and she didn’t feel even the slightest bit out of breath. So strange.
“Normally, I’d turn here since I’m out of practice, but I’m feeling pretty good today. I can keep going if you can.”
Lawrence’s smile reminded her of the cat who ate the canary. Actually, she’d never seen a cat eat a canary, but she imagined it would look a bit like him now. One with very, very green eyes she’d somehow overlooked earlier.
“I can go as far as you’d like, Alessandra.”
* * *
Kenton watchedAlessandra and her friends from the balcony of the jazz hall, chuckling to himself as his eyes strayed to Lawrence. The bastard hadn’t left her side once all day. Well, let him think she was protected. Kenton wouldn’t kill her until he could be sure she was the only one in her line.
It hadn’t taken him long to find the rest of her family. A mother who lived alone. A brother in college. A father who’d left when she was seven and later turned up dead. No aunts. No uncles. None he’d discovered yet, anyway.
As the crowd sang to the beat of a half-decent three-man band, he leaned against the balustrade and waited. He would need to speak to her, get close to her. From there the information he needed would be easy to obtain.
He stood a bit straighter, seeing something that made him smile genuinely for the first time all night. It had been a subtle move, but Alessandra had shifted so Lawrence was now standing next to her redheaded friend. Was she doing what he suspected? Sure enough, she kept glancing back at the redhead. He couldn’t see her face, but the gesture was plain enough.
The chit was trying to get her friend together with Lawrence. Which meant, shockingly, she’d not yet succumbed to his charms.
An interesting development.
One he planned to take full advantage of.
Heading to the bar, he put down the full gin and tonic and ordered a beer instead. Ignoring the bartender’s appreciative glances—he couldn’t allow anyone, no matter how comely, to distract him from his mission—Kenton positioned himself directly opposite Alessandra’s gang. He watched as she moved her hips to the music, his view of her face somewhat obstructed by the man in front of her.
Kenton cursed the pull that drew him to her. The pull only a Cheld could claim. Surely that was the reason he stared at her full lips, watching as she wrapped them around the lip of the bottle. She reminded him of a Hollywood actress, one from another era. Dark features, a seductive smile likely to entrance legions of fans.
When he’d first felt her presence in New Orleans, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her as she boarded the plane. Even since finding her here . . . this was the closest he’d gotten to her yet.
If his brother Rowan were here, he would have a grand time teasing him. Italian women had been Kenton’s undoing well before he was made. The daughter of the king’s royal messenger had entranced him in his human life. The obsession had only ended because he’d accidentally killed a lovely Italian lady. He regretted every death, even those he should not mourn, and hers had been especially painful.
He, his family, the bastard Scot he’d hated since childhood . . . none of them enjoyed hurting innocents, even if Lawrence believed otherwise. The impulses the curse had instilled in him could not always be controlled, much to his regret. The evils he’d done had stayed with him, each leaving a mark on his soul.
If only we’d had the control back then that we do now.
Unfortunately for Alessandra, she was not an innocent. By virtue of the very blood coursing through their bodies, the Cheld could not claim innocence.
Finally, she saw him.
And although her kind were not drawn to vampires as vampires were to Cheld, her eyes found his and lingered there.
Pushing aside an answering jolt of lust, he raised his bottle to her, attempting to ignore Lawrence’s glare. He could approach her now, but something told him to wait. Song after song, he watched from a distance as she laughed with her friends. When one of them slung his arm casually around her, Kenton stood up straighter, filled with a sudden urge to snap the man’s neck like a twig, but no reaction was needed. She disengaged herself and darted another look his way.
Interesting.
She didn’t want to give the impression she was attached.
But he already knew she was not. Kenton had learned much about her since he’d come to Stone Haven. His instincts also told him it would not be much longer. Indeed, moments later, she made her way to him.
A bold move, but not unexpected based on what he’d learned about her thus far. Alessandra Fiore was a woman of action. That much she’d already made clear.