“Why not? Why couldn’t you call me?”
“We didn’t exactly part on good terms. Besides, you’re only there for me when it doesn’t risk your reputation. You don’t ride to my rescue unless it’s convenient, or you’re ordered to.” I felt guilty the moment the words left my mouth, and I glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. Lex growled in annoyance, and then drew me to him. He kissed me, fierce and possessive, his fingers tangling in my unbound hair. I leaned into him, too weary to fight and too hungry for his embrace. After several long moments his hands fell to my waist, intent on untying the cord that belted my robes.
“Don’t,” I said, pulling away.
“Why not?”
“Because when I wake up I’ll still be in the tower, and you still won’t know whether or not you want to be with me.”
“Then shouldn’t this be a good dream?” he countered.
“I need more than a dream. I either need you with me, or I need you to leave. I can’t live on the hope that maybe you’ll find a way to work me into your life.”
“I love you, Cat.”
“I know. But that’s not enough. It never was.”
I turned to walk away, and the dream faded. The rest of my dreams after that were a jumble of images. Cool hands slid over my bare skin, Harrison’s voice whispered to me, assuring me that everything would be better if I just stopped fighting. When I awoke I discovered a Gordian knot of sheets tangled around me, drenched with sweat, and the taste of blood in my mouth. A panicked dash to the mirror revealed that I’d bitten my lip, and because my neck was free of marks I let myself relax. The blood was just part of the dream, nothing more. I even managed to heal my lip completely by the time I was out of the shower.
After my shower, I emerged from the bedroom to find a gift bag tied with curling red ribbon next to my plate of pancakes. Fruit pancakes this time, I noted as I crossed over to the table. Untying the ribbon, I discovered several department store catalogues. Sitting down, I plopped the napkin into my lap and divided my attention between my food and the catalogues. Attached to the top one was a note, and I opened the envelope.
“Nice stationery,” I commented to the empty room. Even Harrison’s penmanship was polite. I’d never seen a man’s handwriting be so legible. The letter was short and to the point: Harrison requested the pleasure of my attendance at dinner at six o’clock that evening. I hoped Harrison would be well behaved after Lex had promised to kill him if he laid a hand on me. While I couldn’t speak for the vampire’s ability to restrain himself, I was pretty damn sure Lex could take him in a fight. Well, he could if he still had his guardian abilities.
Alone again with nothing but the television to entertain me, I looked through the catalogues and wrote up a ridiculously large order. Not that I expected to need that many outfits, but I was about halfway through destroying Laura’s fashion choices and had every intention of making Harrison replace everything I shredded.
I didn’t want to have dinner with Harrison again. I really, really, really did not want to have dinner with him again. It would only end badly. I had almost no faith in his assurance that I would remain unmolested. He simply couldn’t help himself-I was too much of a curiosity for him. I’m sure the supermodels he kept around as arm candy were more than happy to fall on their backs with their legs spread wide, and yet mousy little me couldn’t stand the sight of him. Harrison probably felt like he was living in the Twilight Zone.
Well, I wasn’t about to wear anything even remotely revealing. Hell, I would’ve worn a turtleneck if there’d been one in the closet. I settled on the most prim, proper, dowdy schoolmarm look I could manage with the wardrobe. Boxy khaki slacks, penny loafers, and a plain white long-sleeved blouse, buttoned as high as it would go. The white fabric washed all the color out of my face, not that there was much to begin with. I left my hair down for maximum neck coverage, and it looked limp and lifeless, as horrid as the “before” picture in a shampoo commercial. Gazing at my reflection, I decided I looked like a soccer mom out for dinner at a family restaurant chain. Fabulous.
I dreaded the arrival of six o’clock. Nausea invaded my stomach and camped out, refusing to leave no matter how much calm I mustered up. A few minutes before six the door opened and revealed, much to my horror, Lovely Laura Barrenheart.
“The hell do you want?” I asked, surprised.
Laura crossed the room and paused next to the couch, scrutinizing me with distaste obvious in her cold gray eyes. The vampire stood perfectly still, looking like an ice statue ready for a night on the town in a sparkling white cocktail dress. From her elegantly styled hair to the tips of her killer high-heeled shoes, Laura was the essence of grace and beauty. It was damn intimidating.
“I’m here to escort you to dinner.” Something in her tone hinted that she’d enjoy escorting me down a flight of stairs, face first. “You’re not wearing that.”
“Why not? The invitation didn’t mention a dress code.”
“You look terrible, it’s insulting to your host,” Laura said.
“Which is exactly what I’m going for.”
The vampire rolled her wintry eyes at me and turned, gliding toward the bedroom and the closet she had stocked with what she considered appropriate attire. Boy was she ever in for a surprise. Shutting off the TV, I got to my feet and followed her, eager to see her reaction to my closet renovation efforts.
Pausing in the doorway, the vampire gazed down at the pile of mangled fashion on the closet floor. I tried to destroy at least one article of clothing per commercial break, and it had been an advertising bonanza that day. Tension pinched her shoulders, and Laura turned toward me slowly. Expecting a fight, I’d put my shields up the moment she first entered the room, so I was prepared when she tried to slap me. Her hand bounced away, harmless, and I smiled broadly at her like a toddler inappropriately proud of the mess she created.
“We’re going to be late for dinner,” I pointed out. The vampire glared at me as though she hoped she could burn holes through my shields and reduce me to a smoking pile of ashes. After a long, tense moment, Laura sighed and walked around me into the suite’s sitting room. I followed her, slowed by the effort of keeping the shields up and hoping to give her some space.
Opening the door to the suite, she paused in the hallway. “This way please.” Laura motioned down the hallway, indicating that I should go first. Yeah right, like there was any way I’d let her get behind me.
“Oh no, after you.” I smiled thinly, and the vampire smiled with equal derision and strode away. The hallway looked pretty much the same as I remembered it: earth tones, unremarkable decorations, soft lighting. I tried to remember the turns as we moved from hallway to hallway, but there was just no way I’d manage to memorize it. The décor all looked the same, and there were no visible numbers on the doors like you’d expect in a hotel setting. We reached the silver elevator and stepped inside, her high heels clicking sharply on the floor. Laura continued to remain silent, probably plotting my slow and painful demise, and I continued to concentrate on keeping my shields up to prevent said painful demise. The elevator moved down, which surprised me as I’d been assuming we were headed up to Harrison’s penthouse office. Great, maybe she was taking me down to the parking garage to beat the sass out of me.
It was going to be a long night.
“Exactly how does a council member end up as an errand girl for a vamp who’s got to be, what, no more than five years dead?” I asked, my tone light and casual. The sting of dying smoke filled the elevator as Laura struggled to control her temper at my rude outburst, and I held my hand under my nose to stave off a sneeze.