Kiss of Death (21 page)

We're still just in earshot when Ward says, “Don't be too long, will you, Teresa. You must bring our new guest back to play.”

Play? Uh-oh.

Teresa keeps a firm hold of my hand. “The master's truly taken with you.” She opens the first door we come to. “This is the dining room.” She moves inside, walking backward and gently pulling me in after her, but all the while keeping extremely close.

“I'm just new, that's all.” I give her a girlish shrug.

She looks at me intently and smiles. “Mmm…”

The dining room is large, about thirty-two feet square, with a big wooden table and ten matching chairs. In the far corner of the room stands a crystal cabinet full of glasses.

The next room is the study. It's about the same size as the dining room, and the walls are lined with bookshelves that stretch right up to the high ceiling. The bookshelves are full, but there isn't a speck of dust in sight. Someone, perhaps the maid the others mentioned, is kept busy in this room. On the left-hand wall is a fireplace, framed by an ornate mantel with treelike branches extending from the sides and up the wall for about half a meter…or maybe the artistic branches are meant to be flames. Two cream leather armchairs sit on top of a burgundy rug, and on the far right-hand side of the room is a large oak desk. It's immaculate—an extreme contrast to my Bureau desk. But the pristine nature of the room and everything in Ward's house gels with what I know about him so far. The man
is a perfectionist and probably verges on obsessive. Not that I can talk.

I focus on the fireplace and the ornate mantel. A cold shiver runs down my spine, then searing heat across my arms. I stagger backward and lean on the desk behind me.

 

I'm in the study with Ward, holding on to the wrought-iron flames around the fireplace while we have sex. The fire is hot against the front of my naked body and his body is pressed against me from behind.

I tilt my head back and Ward sinks teeth into my shoulder.

 

When I come back to reality, Teresa is standing almost on top of me, her mouth slightly open and her breath uneven. “Wow, what was that? Are you okay?”

I move sideways along the desk to get away from her, trying to process what I just saw while also hiding its effect on me from Teresa. I nearly always experience the emotions in a vision from the subject's point of view, and this time it was pure sexual lust. These emotions usually linger with me, and this instance is no different. I feel both aroused and unfulfilled.

“Are you okay?” Teresa repeats.

“I'm fine.”

“Anderson, what's up?” Sloan's anxious.

Shit, Sloan. I definitely need to hide this from her. “Seriously, I'm fine,” I say for both Teresa and Sloan. “Just a dizzy spell.”

“Wow.” Teresa comes closer to me, despite the fact that I'm trying to increase the distance between us. She's staring intently at me, entranced. “That was some light show, Veronica.” The pitch of her voice rises and she traces the outline of my head with one hand.

I want to grab Teresa and shake her. I don't know
whether I want her to shut up, knowing that Sloan can hear us, or demand to know exactly what she can see.

Teresa takes one of my hands in hers and delicately runs her other hand up and down the inside of my forearm. She swings both ways; I can't imagine she'd be looking at me and touching me like this otherwise. I look down at her hand and pull away…again. As I do so, I notice a large ring on her middle finger—the woman in my vision was wearing that ring. This is confirmation that Teresa was the woman, and I somehow know that it was Anton Ward behind her. They were having sex in this room.

I make for the door. “Let's finish the tour.”

“We should sit down for a bit if you're dizzy.” She takes my hand in hers again and leads the way to the cozy armchairs. Sitting down, she leans back in the chair, her velvet dress molding to the cream leather. It certainly makes for an affecting visual—black dress, cream couch, red hair and burgundy rug. It's like this room was made for her…or maybe she's made herself up to look good against Ward's decor.

“You sure you're okay?” Teresa regards me curiously. “Want me to get you some water?”

“Thanks, water would be great.” Anything to get rid of her for a few minutes so I can think straight.

She leaves the room.

“Anderson, what's going on? No, don't answer that. I'm sure Ward's got cameras in the study.”

Sloan's right. I can't talk to her.

“Okay, clear your throat for yes and don't say anything for no. Are you okay?”

I clear my throat.

“Do you want to come out?” I'm silent.

“Or us to come in.”

Again, I maintain silence.

“Okay. It's your call.”

Teresa comes back into the room with a small glass of water. I take it with a smile and thank her.

She looks at me, head tilted. “It's finished now.”

I don't know what the hell she can see, but I smile. “Yes, I feel much better.” I take a few sips of water and stand up again. “Let's go.”

She studies me closely and seems to decide I'm well enough to resume the tour. “Okay.”

Teresa shows me the drawing room, the large kitchen and a massive marble bathroom before taking me upstairs. The second floor of Ward's house contains five bedrooms and one more bathroom. All are furnished and decorated in the ornate style of the rest of the house, with period pieces and lots of candelabras. The main bedroom is massive, as big as my whole apartment, with an en suite complete with a large claw-foot bathtub and a walk-in wardrobe. Along the length of the master bedroom runs a large balcony that overlooks landscaped gardens, a pool and a tennis court.

“Wow,” I say as we stand on the balcony. “Bet you love it here.” I lean on the balustrade.

She moves closer so our arms are touching. “I do. We all do.”

“Do you live here with Anton?”

She sighs. “I wish. Although I do get to stay over at least one or two nights a week.”

“So you're his girlfriend?” Although I know Teresa is one of many women Anton sleeps with, as Veronica I would not have this knowledge.

“Not exactly.” Teresa turns to me and smiles. “Like most of our kind we have multiple partners. If that hasn't been part of your lifestyle so far, you'll get used to it.” She gives me a little flirtatious grin. “You'll love it, in fact.”

“But some of you in After Dark must be boyfriend and girlfriend. Or married even?”

She laughs. “If that's what you're looking for you're in the wrong place.”

I shrug. “I'm not looking for marriage…I'm just looking for somewhere I can call home.” I'm trying to portray myself as younger, and as a little bit lost. Anyone can be attracted to a new religious movement, but certainly people in their late teens and early twenties are usually targeted. There's no way I can pretend I'm that young, but I can be naive for my age.

“If Anton takes you into After Dark, you'll always have a home. And people who care for you.” She strokes my arm and I resist the desire to pull away.

“It sounds wonderful.” I try to elicit the same dreamy air I get from Teresa. “I've known since I was very young that I wasn't like other girls. And now I finally feel accepted.” I partially draw on the story Teresa told Sloan.

“I know what you mean. It's great here and you'll fit right in.” She turns around, facing the bedroom. “Come on, let's get back to the party.” Teresa grabs my hand once more and keeps a hold of it as we walk down the stairs and back into the living room.

She leads the way over to Ward and puts my hand in his. “She's all yours.”

Ward takes my hand and as Teresa's hand drops from the exchange she runs her fingers across my butt. My body tenses and I have to stop myself from letting out a startled yelp. Not to mention stifling my instinct to take a swing at her. It may only be a light touch, but it was still unwanted.

Teresa's on her way across the room when Ward calls her back.

“Teresa.” His voice is icy.

She turns, confused. “Yes, master?”

“What have you done to our guest?” Ward examines
me closely again. “Did you feed from her?” He scowls at Teresa.

“No, master.” Teresa's face pales. “I would never.”

He stares at me again. “She looks…different.”

“Veronica wasn't feeling well, master…in the study. And something did happen to her. I saw it vividly.”

Ward looks at me, genuine concern on his face.

“I'm fine, Anton. It was just a dizzy spell.” So somehow, to him, I look different after my vision. So what changed?

He nods and returns his gaze to Teresa. “I'm sorry, my darling. I should have known you'd never feed from an unwilling donor.” He holds her hand in his and places a gentle kiss on it. “Please forgive me.”

Her face quickly flushes with excitement. “Of course, master.”

Ward gives her a small bow before guiding me over to a double sofa in the corner of the room. “Come, you must tell me everything about yourself. But first, a drink. What would you like?”

“A gin and tonic please.”

He quickly gets Stephen French's attention and orders my drink and a glass of Shiraz for himself.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine.” I lean back on the couch and cross my legs, hopefully looking a little more relaxed than I feel. Ward sits next to me but twists his body to one side, leaning his right arm against the back of the sofa.

I'm desperate to find out what Ward's picking up about me, but I can't afford to question him on it with Sloan and Carey listening in.

“So, Veronica. Tell me about yourself.”

I shrug. “What do you want to know?”

“You grew up in North Carolina?”

“That's right.”

“Brothers? Sisters?”

“I've got an older sister, Sarah. She still lives in North Carolina with my mom. My dad died when I was ten.” I make sure to say the American
mom
rather than
mum
.

“It's a horrible thing to have a parent die.”

“Yes.” I drop my head down and he places his hand on mine. “Are your parents alive?” I ask.

“No, both dead.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” I look up. “That's terrible. How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

Just like his file said. “What happened?”

He shrugs. “They don't really know. They think maybe Dad fell asleep—the car just veered off the road and hit a tree.”

“I'm so sorry, Anton.”

He runs his fingers through his hair and I'm both relieved and upset that he's no longer touching me. “That's very sweet of you, Veronica. But it was a long time ago.” He smiles. “And this is supposed to be about you!”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Are you working at the moment?”

“Uh-huh. I temp in admin. And I do have an early start tomorrow morning, so this won't be a late night for me, I'm afraid.” I'm already planning my exit strategy. I don't want to stay here longer than necessary, and I don't know if it's them or myself I don't trust.

“You keep regular hours?”

“Only just.” I laugh. “I'm not good in the mornings. I always wondered when I was younger why I was more of a night person.”

He smiles and looks around the room. “We're all night people here.”

“Yes. It's wonderful.” I raise my shoulders up and give a gleeful smile. “Like coming home.”

French appears with our drinks. As he passes me my gin and tonic, served in a beautiful crystal highball, he
gives me a crooked smile that reminds me of Riff-Raff, the butler-come-servant from
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
. I almost burst into laughter thinking about how two young, wholesome teenagers would react if they walked into this house. It would definitely be a
Rocky Horror
moment.

“What's funny?” Ward asks as we clink our glasses together.

“Nothing. I'm just happy.”

“Good.” He takes a sip of his Shiraz. “So, North Carolina and one sister who lives with your mother. Are you close to them?”

“Not really, no.” I take a deep breath. “They don't approve of my life choices.” I look down at my clothes and motion to them with my hand. “It is the South, after all.”

“Ah, I see. That's a common story within our group. You may not be accepted elsewhere, but here…here you are truly free. Free to show your true self.” He takes another sip. “We're special…you and I, everyone in this room. And other people can't understand that. This—” he motions around the room, almost spilling his wine “—is our birthright.”

I nod, urging him on.

“Over the ages vampires have always been misunderstood, rejected. And that's why we've had to fly under the radar for most of history.”

“Do you think…do you think the day will come when there'll be more of us than humans? When we'll…you know, rule?” Despite my gut feel that Ward is a good guy, I'm baiting him to see if he preaches any sorts of beliefs that could be about a specific upcoming event. That could signal a destructive cult.

He sighs. “I'm afraid not. The numbers have always been balanced against us and that will continue. But what's important is that we don't buy into their negativity
or disbelief and that we find each other. And help one another.” He puts his hand on my knee. “You've found us now.”

As seems to be the pattern with Ward, I find myself both excited and uncomfortable with his friendly intimacy.

“I know.” I stare into my drink.

“What is it?”

“It's just…well, I hope I really am cut out for this clan. I mean, I don't think I could hurt anyone. I do feel the thirst but with Crystal—”