Mulroney dropped his hands and took a step back. This time when he looked into her eyes, his features stretched tight with discomfort. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.” Breathless from his touch, Gillian shivered, instantly feeling cold. “There’s something else.” After she filled him in on the threatening email Lawrence had sent to her, she shrugged, trying to unknot some of the tension in her shoulders.
“Make sure you forward me that email. We have reason to believe that the murders aren’t being committed by Lawrence himself, but someone in his organization. Don’t let the bastard scare you. That’s what he wants. You have round the clock protection.”
Gillian nodded her head, refusing to let the threat rub her raw. She needed to change the subject. “What does this mean for Brooke? Any luck finding a house with a dragon gate in your database? I know it’s a serious long shot.”
“I’m afraid not. I’m still checking.” He stared at her long and hard. “We have people working day-and-night to find her. I know it’s easier said than done, but you need to be patient.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.” The news gave her a glimmer hope. “I have a question. When we do find her, what am I supposed to tell everyone after our fake relationship comes to an abrupt end?”
He shrugged. “Simple, I freaked out over commitment issues. We got serious too fast and rushed into things.” For reasons she couldn’t explain, his words left a hollow feeling deep inside her chest. He angled his head to the door. “Are you ready to go?”
“Let me get my coat, and then, I’m all yours.” Saying the words sent a ripple of cold fear coursing through Gillian’s veins because the more time she spent with Garrett, the more she wished this relationship could be real.
Chapter 15
Garrett walked up to Gillian and handed her a glass of water. The second they’d walked through the doors of his apartment, she plopped down at the dining room table and spread out her crystals. She pivoted between her tarot cards and the pendulum trick in what he guessed was an attempt to tune into her cousin once again. By the anguished look on her face, she wasn’t having much luck. He hated seeing her so tense and stressed. “Why don’t you take a break?”
She nodded, looking exhausted. “I suppose you’re right. I need to replenish my magick anyway.” She got up to stretch, and her phone pinged. She picked it up and glanced at the screen, her eyes flaring wide. “One of my followers spotted Kurt Lawrence in a black Range Rover at a gas station in Darien, Connecticut. Somewhere off of Boston Post Road. She posted it on social media.”
“I’m calling the captain.” Garrett picked up his phone and relayed the message to his boss. He ended the call and turned his head to find Gillian pacing the room. “He’s putting out an APB on the vehicle. For now, we do something to calm your nerves before you burn a hole into the rug.”
A half-hour later, Gillian nodded toward the TV, looking visibly relaxed. “Let me get this straight, the plot of this movie revolves around a Romanian knight who curses his soul and becomes a vampire to reunite with his lost love? It seems rather extreme don’t you think?” Gillian asked, taking a sip of her wine.
In pink PJ pants and a crème oversized sweatshirt—one side slipped off of her smooth bare shoulder showing a tantalizing glimpse of a black lace bra strap—she exuded softness and femininity. Even her damn feet were cute, encased in white fluffy slippers.
“It certainly runs contrary to the dating advice you give on your podcast,” Garrett pointed out, setting the open bottle of Bâtard Montrachet on the table.
After he checked all the windows and doors in his apartment, they retreated to the basement. They reclined back in theater chairs, surrounded by the glow of candlelight, cartons of Chinese takeout, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn, and a couple of glasses of crisp chardonnay while the opening credits for Bram Stokers’Dracularolled.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed spending time with a woman more. “Some might even accuse you of being a hopeless romantic.”
Her face flushed. “I guess you caught some of my podcast before I totally lost it?”
“I didn’t know why at the time, but you acted like a pro. I’m sorry for listening in. I admit I was curious. I found your advice quite interesting.” He wanted so much to tell her that despite the current trend to keep swiping right, any male who didn’t spoil her or cater to her every whim was a complete moron. He took a long pull of his wine instead. “Back to the film, in terms of Dracula, much like other besotted males who came before him, he became tortured when the woman he loved perished. Taking his grief to the extreme, he cursed his soul to avenge her death.”
Swirling the contents in her glass, Gillian motioned to the screen before her eyes latched onto his. “I’m guessing there’s no happily ever after for those two.”
“I’m afraid not. Their love ended in tragedy like most relationships between humans and the undead do.” Saying it brought Garrett back to the moment he relinquished his humanity all those years ago. The memory would stay with him forever, burned into his soul like a brand. She needed to hear the truth because he was starting to like this woman, and no matter how much he wished it wasn’t so, Garrett had nothing to offer her long term. But not now. He couldn’t ruin this perfect mood, couldn’t erase the smile from her lips. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen this movie. I don’t watch much TV. I favor the classics, and this is one of the best in my humble opinion,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
She pressed pause on the remote and swallowed. “There’s a question I’ve been dying to ask. I feel like you know so much about me, and yet I know very little about your past. If we’re going to pull off this charade successfully without raising suspicion, you should probably tell me how you became a vampire. I mean, it’s not something we’ve talked about, and if you feel uncomfortable, or if the subject’s too painful, I understand.”
The question turned his mood dark. His shoulders slumped forward. Living an immortal life meant forever moving forward, and yet, there were some things he’d rather forget. “No, it’s okay.” If he ever hoped to forge any sort of relationship with her, even if it could only be ephemeral, he’d have to come clean about his past. After what she’d been through with Lawrence, she deserved the truth. Although once she heard it, she might be repulsed by his misdeeds, at least he’d know where things stood.
“I grew up in Viscri, a small village outside of Transylvania with my family. It was a simple life for the most part. My parents loved each other deeply and my younger sister, Sadie, was the apple of my eye. She was the kindest, gentlest soul I’ve ever known, and by the same token, she possessed this fire inside of her, a vivaciousness to live life. Nothing scared her. You remind me a lot of her.” The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back. He only wished his voice didn’t sound so pained.
“I remind you of her?” Gillian repeated, surprise lacing her voice.
He nodded. “It was a happy home filled with laughter and love.”
Her face broke out into a beautiful smile. “You were lucky. Not all kids can say the same, myself included. It’s the main reason I moved into the coven after my mom died. I never had any siblings and it was a chance to have a family.” Her voice took on a wistful tone. “I’m sorry. Please go on.”
His fingers brushed the back of her hand, and she drew in a breath. An ache of deep longing filled his chest. “Don’t be sorry. Vlad Tepes was from Wachovia, a village not far from where I grew up. The year was 1850 and a disease known as Porphyria began to spread.” He gulped the rest of his wine and set the glass on the table. “When a person became infected, they grew sensitive to sunlight, and their gums receded, making their teeth appear fang-like. There was no cure and many were found half dead with blood seeping from their mouths. Death was everywhere, and the villagers couldn’t keep up with the bodies. They buried many in shallow graves. When some would wake up, dig themselves out and come back to town, they were labeleddracules,or devils. Gruesome tales of vampirism began to spread, and people lived in fear.”
“And that’s when all the hysteria began?” she asked, taking another sip of her wine. The firelight caught a glint of red in her hair and a flush of pink on her cheeks from the wine. He wanted to look away but he couldn’t, too captivated by her beauty.
He nodded. “When I turned twenty-six, I became ill with a condition known as Catalepsy, where a person lapses into a catatonic state. Their pulse and heartbeat become nonexistent, and they’re believed to be dead.” He picked up the wine bottle from the table and refilled their glasses. “My family had a funeral for me. You can imagine everyone’s shock when I woke up and emerged from my coffin. I too was labeled adracule,and the villagers wanted my head. Shortly thereafter, we were chased from our home. We lost everything.” He never planned to open up to her, but all that changed the moment he held her in his arms.
