Angel at Dawn (38 page)

Read Angel at Dawn Online

Authors: Emma Holly

Tags: #Ghost stories, #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal romance stories, #Motion picture producers and directors, #Occult fiction, #Ghosts, #Occult & Supernatural, #Love stories

“So you
beat
her?” Christian said in disgust.
“I told her I was sorry. She left me.” He turned to Grace, who was staring at him with her mouth open. “I know it was because she secretly loves you. She’d rather do unnatural things with a woman than be with her soul mate.”
He’d begun to cry, which—in a way—was the most repellent thing he’d done yet. Knees buckling as he sobbed, he slid down the front of Grace’s wardrobe. Christian’s urge to kill him faded reluctantly. As homicidal maniacs went, this one was pitiful.
That, however, didn’t mean he would let him go.
“Loan me some clothesline,” he said to Grace.
Bless her, she closed her mouth and went to get it. Dare, by contrast, didn’t have the decency to resist when Christian trussed him up in it.
“What are you going to do with him?” Grace asked.
Christian’s close-lipped smile made their prisoner shiver. “I’m going to pass him on to your boss. She’ll find a way to exact an appropriate consequence
and
keep Viv safe from scandal.”
 
 
N
im Wei accepted Christian’s delivery with aplomb, first thralling Dare to glassy-eyed silence, then sitting him—still tied in Grace’s rope—on a little upholstered bench inside her front entryway.
The actor had been disconcertingly pleased to meet her, going so far as to suggest she ought to direct a suspense film pairing him with Kim Novak.
Even the queen didn’t have a comeback for that.
Ignoring the now-serene man, she leaned out the door toward Christian.
“I’ll take care of him,” she promised. “He won’t lay a hand on another soul.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I might even throw in a compulsion to confess his most embarrassing personal habits to the media. Unhinged over-the-hill actors do things like that sometimes. When I’m through, his life will be more hellish than prison.”
“Fine,” Christian said, satisfied to leave the details to her. He turned to go, but a nagging question tugged him around. “Why are you involved in this craziness?”
Nim Wei’s dark almond eyes widened. “He tried to kill Grace. He injured my female lead.”
“Not that. Why are you making movies?”
Nim Wei’s brows lowered. “I
enjoy
it. Directing is
fun
.”
This struck him as disingenuous. The queen he knew was a creature of plots and ploys. Seeing his skepticism, she crossed her arms. “Believe what you like,” she said.
He nodded and turned away for a second time. He felt Nim Wei’s eyes on his back, no doubt glaring coolly at him. Though he didn’t betray his awareness of her attention, he was privately relieved when she slammed the door.
Freed from her scrutiny, he glanced at Grace’s cottage. The bond between them was ephemeral but there. He sensed she was calming from her ordeal, thinking about him but not worried by his absence. Because his own nerves needed settling, he walked past Nim Wei’s Italian villa-inspired pool toward the overlook. The murmur of the Pacific called to him like the rush of blood through a human heart. Eternal and reassuring. A lullaby for all species.
When he arrived at the drop-off, he tipped his face to the sky. The consciousness he hoped to reach was further off than any he’d tried to contact before.
“I know it was you,” he said quietly. “I know you warned me to turn the car when Dare shot at Grace. You’re the Michael she called her angel.”
No voice responded from the cosmos, no sensation that couldn’t have been written off as the brush of the ocean breeze. Maybe the circumstances weren’t extreme enough for Michael to answer. Left with no clear reply, Christian wondered if his old friend approved of him relinquishing his grudge against Lavaux, if he’d wanted Christian to refrain from killing Montgomery Dare. After a moment, he let the question go. He couldn’t live by someone else’s standards, not even an angel’s. Christian was at peace with his decisions. That’s what had to count for him.
The gentle wind gusted in his face, lifting his hair like the motion of ghostly hands.
“All right, old friend,” Christian said to the diamond-bright sparkle of the stars. “Just wanted to say thank you. If you ever decide to come here with the rest of us, I’d be proud to know you again.”
As he walked around the house, lights went on in the wing where Charlie and the other boys had their rooms. Christian often felt like an outsider peering through the windows of human life. Tonight he took unexpected comfort in identifying the young actors. There was Charlie laughing at something Matthew said. Here was Philip brushing his teeth. Bonehead was lying on his back in bed, enjoying a daydream about a female extra. For now these mortals were a part of his life, and he was part of theirs. Maybe the ties would break when the movie ended. Maybe they’d last longer. Whether they did had nothing to do with Christian being a vampire. These boys took the same risks with each other.
Regardless of what he’d lost in the past, Christian could make new connections. If he chose to. If he dared to. It would be up to him.
He smiled to himself, lighter in spirit than he’d been in a while. Perhaps not everything in his life was perfect, but it was very good for now.
Eighteen
T
he next two months flew by like a dream for Grace. She was with Christian, and a stream of happiness bubbled under everything she did, almost frightening in its consistency. Viv had been a trouper, healing quicker than anyone expected. That this might be due to “special” treatment from her director, Grace didn’t want to dwell on. It seemed too much like something she might have to think better of her boss for. What mattered was that production on
I Was a Teen-Age Vampire
rolled onward mostly without a hitch.
They’d had one very exciting day racing north to shoot beneath a large scarlet maple before its leaves fell off. Grace was bowled over by her first looks at the developed film rushes, and everyone was buzzing over Montgomery Dare’s mysterious compulsion to humiliate himself any time he got within ten feet of a reporter. His sole response to questions about his broken-off romance with Viv was, “She was too good for me.”
Viv seemed to sense Miss Wei was behind this, though Grace doubted she attributed Dare’s behavior to anything more supernatural than a strong warning to back off.
All in all, despite her estrangement from her employer, Grace was enjoying her job more than ever. It might not be professional, but falling in love with a colleague did add spice to her days. Coming home with Christian was even better. The making-love part was very nice, naturally, but so was the companionship. Christian’s company suited her. He was quiet enough that she could work in peace with him there, not that quiet was always what she wanted. She liked the times he’d come out with little stories—events he’d lived through, people he’d known—as if he were testing the concept of sharing his past with her. The anecdotes unfailingly intrigued her. There were aspects of being a vampire that had never occurred to her. History was their playground, which meant it had been Christian’s.
Tonight he wasn’t sharing stories. Tonight he was sitting with his back propped on the opposite arm of the fat flowered couch from her. He thumbed through her copy of
On Acting
while she double-checked her list of things to do tomorrow. The lamp behind him brought out the blue highlights in his black hair. He was so beautiful she had to mentally pinch herself that he was really there with her. The other night, he’d treated the cast to dinner at the Mocambo. Their waitress must have called every friend she had. When they’d exited the nightclub, at least fifty girls had been waiting, all screaming Christian’s name. Though the boys had teased him mercilessly, it had taken everyone by surprise. And Grace knew Christian’s star was only going to blaze brighter.
But he was hers tonight, his feet resting familiarly in her lap. They were as graceful as the rest of him, his toenails shining and clear like glass. Grace was tempted to test how ticklish his arches were. Christian giggling was a marvel she’d like to see.
Though he’d sworn he couldn’t read her mind, his toes twitched and he looked up.
“You read this, didn’t you?” he asked, one palm covering the page he was on. He must have reached a passage she’d underlined.
“I took acting classes as well. It’s helpful for directors to understand the cast’s point of view.”
He considered her, thoughts she wished she could follow moving behind his eyes. In the time they’d spent together, she’d learned just how quick and intelligent he was. Relaxed now, he wasn’t keeping up his glamour the way he used to. Sparks of gold swam in his irises, and his pale skin gleamed like a shooting star. Every feature he had was harmonious with the others, the overall effect so pleasing it hypnotized.
Sitting across from him, Grace tried not to feel inadequate. Christian liked her humanity, or so he often said.
“It’s interesting,” he said at last.
“Directing?”
“The whole business. I was thinking that today when we were in harness and jumping off those platforms with the giant fan blowing back our hair—all so audiences will believe vampires can leap far. The average person has no idea what goes into making a movie.”
“Six burly men with a safety mattress?”
He met her teasing smile with a fond one. “I thought this acting thing would bore me, once I’d achieved what I set out to.”
Grace lifted her brows at him.
His expression turned serious but not cold. “I wanted to make you remember me. At the time, I believed I wanted to punish you, but I suspect my heart had its own ideas even then.”
He’d never said this so openly. Her throat was thick when she responded. “I’m grateful your heart won out.”
His smile flashed like sunshine, his single dimple making an appearance. He nudged her midriff playfully with his toes. “We know what
you
wanted back then: a fling with a younger man.”
“Too bad that desire was doomed to disappointment.” Grace caught his feet and squeezed them, their marble chill warming in her hold.
“Nim Wei gave you more second unit work to direct today, didn’t she?”
Grace’s face abruptly grew cooler. “It was no big deal. We took some exterior crane shots of the real mansion Joe Pryor’s house is based on. Miss Wei didn’t have time to spend on it.”
“It looked to me like it was a peace offering.”
Grace’s snort was acerbic. “That’s just another name for a bribe. She realizes I can’t warm up to her again now that I know what she is.”
“She’s a queen, Grace. She doesn’t need to court anybody’s favor unless they matter to her.”
“Why are you pushing me to forgive her!”
Grace would have flung herself off the couch if Christian hadn’t leaned forward to take her hands.
“I’m not pushing.” He pulled her fists close against his chest. “What you decide is your business. I think, though, that I’m more conscious of how forgiving your heart prefers to be. You forgave me quite a lot, after all.”
“That was then,” Grace said sullenly, “when I went back in time as a ghost. The petty human parts of me faded. Michael as good as told me I’d turn into an angel if I stayed with him long enough. I guess I’m just meaner now.”
Christian kissed her knuckles. “I wouldn’t call you
mean
. I admit, I didn’t like when Nim Wei suggested I shouldn’t hold a grudge, but what the queen did was a long time ago.”
“It’s that she did it to
you
,” Grace burst out. “That’s what I can’t forgive. I’m sorry if that makes me a small person.”
Christian’s eyes glowed in earnest. “If you’re small, what does that say about me for loving you?”
It was a question she’d asked herself. Not wanting to expose her insecurities, she tried to answer him jokingly. “Probably that you’re stupid and have no taste.”
Christian crawled up her torso and bared his fangs, eliciting the usual quivers between her legs. “I have plenty of taste,” he purred, bending to mouth her neck. “Maybe you need reminding how delicious you are.”
He’d coaxed her into smiling—and to wrapping him in her arms as his weight settled onto her. She loved the knowledge that he was wallowing in her warmth.

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