Part 11 (1/2)
”Yacht?”
”No.”
”Mansion?” I asked, then added, gleefully, ”Oh! A castle?”
”No.”
”A history at Yale that involves members.h.i.+p in Skull and Bones?”
”No.”
”You're violating all my stereotypes about rich people,” I said in faux exasperation.
”Good.” It was the first time since admitting to having money that Sebastian smiled at me. It was a warm look that made me grin back.
”You do realize that from now on if we go Dutch, I'll totally think you're some kind of Scrooge McDuck.”
Somehow the laughter that followed relieved all of the tension that had come up between us, and I forgot for the moment about the stolen book of shadows in the bag on my lap, Matyas, and even the Vatican agents hunting us.
We talked about nothing of any real consequence on the rest of the ride home: the weather, the strangeness of living in such a groovy-political town like Madison, and the appeal of manual over automatic transmissions.
He'd released my bike from the bungee-cord death grip and leaned it against the streetlamp. ”Right, well, then I'll pick you up tonight at say, eight?”
”Tonight?” I asked, clutching the grocery bag full of stolen goods to my chest.
”Dinner.”
Which is what he'd want to make of me when he discovered I had his grimoire. ”Uh.” Sebastian misread my hesitation. He rested his hands lightly on my shoulders, turning me toward him gently. ”You're not going off me, are you?”
I shook my head. What did I say at this juncture?Why don't we just wait and see if you're still interested in me in say, a half an hour or so when you've discovered I not only invaded your sanctum but also took your most personally valuable property? What I should do is confess , I told myself.Tell him now .
Of course, that's when he chose to kiss me.
It wasn't just a friendly peck on the cheek, either; it was full-body-contact pa.s.sion. My lips tingled, and I felt myself swept up into it, until the grimoire poked me in the ribs. It was smashed into the s.p.a.ce between our bodies. My heart pounded. Did Sebastian feel the sharp edge of the book? If he did, he never broke the kiss. Despite my nervousness, I delighted in the strength of his arms around my waist, the faint scent of cinnamon that always seemed to cling to him, and the way his hair tickled against my ear when the wind blew.
When he released me and looked anxiously into my face for a response, I was sure he could see the heat on my cheeks. ”It's not you.” Jesus, that sounds lame, I thought, and watching his face crumble a little, I felt the need to continue, despite a nagging sense that less was more. ”I mean, I want to, but...”
But what, Garnet ? What was the point of breaking his heart on top of stealing his stuff? Why not just end things happily before he came to hunt me down like a dog? ”But, nothing,” I finished, letting out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. ”That would be great, Sebastian. I'm looking forward to it.
Seriously.”
”I know I'm rus.h.i.+ng things,” he said. ”And you'd think with the long life I've had I could be a bit more patient, but, to be truthful, the longer I exist, the more I've come to realize that there's no point in not saying what you feel when you feel it. Seize the day, and all that. It's true, you know. I want to see you. I don't really want you to leave at all, but I understand that you have a lot to digest, what with Matyas showing up like that, and-”
I cut him off with a finger to his lips. ”I'll see you tonight,” I said. And, one way or another, that was probably true. ”Let's make it eight thirty. I need a nap.”
He smiled at that. ”Good. I'll be here at eight thirty, then.”
”I'm looking forward to it.” With trepidation, but, hey.
”Great.”
He gave me another kiss, this one quicker, though still pa.s.sionate enough that the grimoire poked me again.
After Sebastian carried my bike up the outside stairs, we said good-bye with a few more kisses. He was a good kisser. Part of me wanted to invite him upstairs for an afternoon of spooning on the couch. A corollary advantage to that would be to delay the whole discovery of my theft, but I was tired enough that a nap held a tiny bit of higher appeal. Besides, my apartment was a mess.
”Okay,” I said, finally giving his chin a light push, ”Enough now, you. You want me well-rested for this evening, don't you?” Sebastian flashed me a wolfish grin. ”I do.”
”Then you'd better go,” I told him, making shooing motions with my hand. ”Go on.”
He blew me a final kiss as he slipped out, and I felt a pang of regret as I watched the door close. We could have had a nice relations.h.i.+p, I thought as I trudged up the stairs. Or at least a lot of hot s.e.x.
At the top of the stairs, I reached into the pocket of the sweatpants for the keys to my apartment and came up empty. Of course, these were Sebastian's pants, and I just realized I'd left my emergency bag at Sebastian's.
Ihad to get it back.
That bag had my emergency-money in it, two thousand dollars' worth. It contained Jasmine's prayer beads, the only memento I had left of the coven. My mouth went dry at the thought of having to abandon it, but what else could I do? Sebastian would never agree to anything short of an exchange of property, and though it was not my idea to steal the grimoire in the first place, I was certain it was worth more than two thousand dollars and personal effects to Lilith.
I was wondering about the wisdom of a preemptive strike-maybe a quick taxi out to Sebastian's farm, some even quicker talking-when I heard a delicate cat sneeze from the other side of the door. What would be causing Barney's allergic reaction to magicinside my apartment?
Another sneeze, this time closer to the door. A paw stretched through the gap between the door and the floor.
Maybe, I considered, it was me that made Barney so miserable. Thanks to a pleasant chat with Sebastian, I'd successfully avoided thinking about the fact that Lilith now apparently rode so close to the surface that she could shove me out of the way whenever she wanted something.
”I hope it's not me, Puss,” I said. I hustled downstairs to grab the spare keys from where I kept them hidden behind a loose baseboard. I'd managed to lock myself out of my apartment enough times in the past to always keep a set on site.
As I opened the door, I set the grocery bag on the floor and reached to pick Barney up. She purred contentedly in my arms, but her claws dug into the skin of my shoulder. I looked up with the intention of finding a surface to set her onto, when I saw a figure shrouded in shadow sitting in the middle of the room. I reached for the light.
”Don't,” came a voice from my past. ”This place is already too bright.”
It was Parrish. Daniel Parrish, my long-lost vampire lover.
Fourth House
KEYWORDS:.
Home, Concealment, Addiction
Parrish had managed to make my living room surprisingly dark. The old Victorian had a number of windows, and since I was on the second floor, I never bothered with heavy curtains. The previous renters had abandoned lace ones, and Parrish had pulled those-for good measure, I guess, since blankets of all sizes and colors had been tacked to the window frames. Including, I noticed with some irritation, my grandmother's hand-st.i.tched quilt.
He sat in my oversized beanbag, which he'd pulled into the middle of the room. Compared to Sebastian, Parrish hulked. His body dwarfed the chair, making him look a little bit ridiculous lounging as he did on the black vinyl lump. With his auburn heavy-metal curls, poet-s.h.i.+rt, and leather pants, Parrish exuded s.e.xuality.
”You've been out all night,” he observed dryly. ”Should I be jealous?”
The possessive tone in Parrish's voice should have made me angry, but instead I found myself flus.h.i.+ng with a frustrating combination of annoyance and excitement. Mostly, I was annoyed at myself for still finding Parrish so d.a.m.ned attractive. He was such an obvious bad boy, and he played the part to the hilt.