Sweet Last Drop Page 14

  Since I was the only one of us who planned to fake cordiality, I smiled back. “Good evening, Bex. How was your day rest?”

  She waited a moment, still staring at Walker to gain his greeting, but when it became evident she’d be waiting a while longer, she flicked her gaze to me. “Good evening to y’all as well. My day rest went very well, thank you for asking. How was your day?”

  “No one died, so I can’t complain.”

  Bex blinked at me for a long, silent moment, her face bland, and then she laughed. Her face transformed like the spread of butterfly wings, one moment set still, motionless, and carefully sculpted to keep its true nature hidden, and then the next, it fluttered free and wide, flashing its genuine, exquisite, unmatched beauty. Her ringlets bounced with each tremor of her laughter and the sound, light and joyous, lit the air.

  I glanced at Walker, but his eyes never left Bex’s face. His expression looked pained.

  Her laughter settled on a sigh. “Rene was right,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve quite a sense of humor.”

  “Thanks,” I said blandly. I poked my thumb in Bex’s direction. “Did you catch that, Walker? The vampires appreciate my sarcasm.”

  Walker grunted. “That’s not a compliment.” He wiggled the harness impatiently. “It’s go time.”

  I shook my head at Walker, exasperated. “What part of ‘I can’t’ don’t you understand?”

  “The ‘can’t’ part,” Walker gritted from between his clenched teeth.

  “There’s no reason for Cassidy to suffer unnecessarily. Rene is on his way, and then we can bring y’all down to dinner. Both of you.”

  “The hell you can,” Walker bit out.

  “What he means is—” I amended, thinking fast, “—we wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. I’m sure we can manage on our own. Somehow.” I looked at Walker. “Without rappelling.”

  “This is the only entrance,” Walker whispered to me, although Bex, being Bex, could certainly hear him. “We either rappel down, or we don’t go down at all.”

  “It’s not an inconvenience in the least,” Bex assured, ignoring Walker. “It would be my pleasure to assist you. Isn’t that right, Rene?”

  Rene shot up from the depths of the cave on cue. His leather coat flapped around his knees with an audible whipping noise as he whirled past us and flew overhead. He descended slowly to land on the ledge next to Bex, and his landing—complete with flapping coat and whirling, chin-length, golden hair—was dramatic and flashy. He locked eyes with me, his grin cocky and daring, and I realized that just as Bex’s skimpy top was for Walker, Rene’s showmanship was for me. But what exactly he was daring of me, I could only guess.

  His features were very delicate and femininely handsome, no longer the gargoyle-like creature he’d been when we’d first met, which only meant one thing: he’d fed since waking from his day rest.

  “Yes, it will certainly be my pleasure to assist you, DiRocco,” Rene purred smoothly.

  The wound on his neck from my necklace garrote wasn’t quite healed. Feeding had obviously helped—the wound wasn’t bleeding or fresh—but when he spoke, his Adam’s apple moved beneath the split skin, widening and closing the wound as he spoke like a second mouth.

  I hesitated, simultaneously horrified by the sight of his wound and proud for successfully defending myself, but a nagging, cautious part of me wondered how Rene would retaliate.

  The direction of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Rene said, “I meant it when I told you to never apologize for surviving. I don’t hold a grudge against you for my injuries.”

  I nodded, trying to think of an appropriate response. My knee-jerk reaction was to flip him off, but that was the old me. The new me was a liaison for Dominic.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate your level-headedness, Rene. I hope that after tonight, I won’t feel the threat of survival. Our Masters are neighbors, after all. There’s no reason we can’t be—” I tried to think fast and ignore Walker as he gaped at me. “—neighborly.”

  Walker leaned in to whisper-shout in my ear. “I can think of several reasons!”

  Rene extended a hand across the cave, ignoring Walker. “You will trust me to escort you to dinner?”

  I stared at his extended hand, at the thin, nearly translucent webbing between his fingers, and swallowed.

  Walker shook the harness with a hard clank and held it out for me to step in. “We can escort ourselves, thank you.”

  I tried locking eyes with Walker, but he was glaring at Bex. I touched his hand holding the harness. He glanced at me, but his expression didn’t soften.

  I sighed. “Listen, Walker, I can’t rappel down. It’s impossible.”

  “Yes, you can. You just—”

  “You’re not listening. I physically cannot do what you’re asking of me.” I sandwiched one of his hands between both of mine. “I know my strengths and my limits. How many times have I ever told you I wasn’t capable of doing something?”

  Walker opened his mouth and hesitated.

  “How many times have you told me that I should rest, that I was pushing myself too hard, that I needed to recognize when to back down, so I could heal?”

  Walker let loose a deep sigh. “Too many times.”

  “You know how stubborn I am. You know I would grit my teeth and forge ahead if I could, but I’m telling you now that I can’t. My hip has worsened since we last saw each other, and I cannot rappel down this cave.”

  Walker nodded, finally accepting what I was saying as truth. “But it’s the only entrance into the coven.”

  “I know.” I turned away from Walker and locked eyes with Rene. “It would be an honor if you could escort me to dinner.”

  Rene smiled, his fangs long, sharp, and prominent in his mouth. He extended his hand again, his gaze darting to his outstretched palm and then back at me expectantly.

  I breathed in a deep, long-suffering sigh. This was going to be a long night.

  I took Rene’s hand, weaving my fingers between his webbed ones.

  “No, Cassidy!” Walker shouted. “Don’t—”

  Rene yanked me forward, and I fell into the cave.

  * * * *

  My heart clutched in that sick, suspended panic just before my feet left contact with the ground, and I thought I could still save myself. Walker’s hand was outstretched, and I felt the ghost of his fingertips at my back. I twisted and stretched my hand to his, the insurmountable distance between our fingertips the space between two heartbeats.

  And then I was falling.

  I was midair, the cave’s mouth suddenly overhead with the black shadows of Walker and Bex looking down at me. I thought I would have screamed. I think most rational people, when faced with their imminent and certain deaths, would scream. The circle and safety of the cave’s mouth was shrinking away from me, the cavern floor with its jagged stalagmites was rushing toward me, and I was going to die in the next breath, but my thoughts weren’t cohesive enough to scream. My thoughts were a snapped wire. Its frayed, mismatched ends couldn’t circuit the reality of smashing one-hundred and twenty miles per hour into the earth, so through the gut-wrenching panic, instead of screaming, I held my breath.

  Something cold and strong wrapped around my body. It couldn’t have been death, since I was still falling, but then I saw his face. In a sense, death was wrapped around me. Rene slowed my descent, his arms holding me safe and secure against his body, so by the time we hit bottom, we landed as gently as if he had carried me a step between rooms.

  He smiled down at me, and I could see his valiant efforts at trying not to laugh. I gasped for air, starved for oxygen and stability. Somewhere inside myself I was angry with him, but for the life of me I couldn’t feel anything but the excruciating need to breathe.

  Rene lost his own personal battle and laughed. “You should have seen your face. Priceless.”

  I pinned him with my best glare. “People
can die from shock, you know.”

  “Some people might, but not you.”

  I laughed, incredulous. “Believe me, I can die just as easily as all the rest.”

  “Cassidy-dy-dy-dy!” My name echoed in a deep bellow from above.

  I looked up. Walker’s shadow hovered over the cave’s mouth.

  “I’m OK! Rene caught me!” I yelled back.

  “I’m coming down!”

  “Be careful!”

  The rappelling rope fell from above a second later, and as soon as it hit the ground next to us, Walker was midair, cruising down its line into the cave.

  I shook my head. “I guess Bex won’t have the pleasure of escorting Walker to dinner, although I must admit, from experience, my escort leaves something to be desired.”

  Rene laughed, but it wasn’t genuine this time. He sounded bitter. “Walker will never allow Bex to escort him to dinner. Having you here as an example of how life could be with a willing night blood, maybe Bex will reconsider her choice.” Rene looked up to watch Walker as he rappelled. He shook his head. “We can only hope.”

  Bex growled. It echoed in strange, dissonant vibrations from above as she watched Walker from outside the cave.

  “You can hope all you want, but I wouldn’t place any bets.”

  Rene laughed, and he sounded like himself again. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you, but rumors failed to mention your delightful personality.”

  I frowned. My personality had never been described as delightful. “Heard from who?”

  “You know, just here and there.”

  No, I didn’t know. I’d only been in contact with Dominic and members of his coven. I hadn’t expected rumors about me to spread to other covens. “All lies, I’m sure.”

  “That’s what I had assumed when I heard how you could connect and control our minds, like we do humans, but that was true. What else is true about you, Cassidy DiRocco? I heard you helped the Master of New York City regain control of his coven when he didn’t have the power to stand against them alone, and with you as his added strength, he survived a coup to overthrow his rule. I heard you gave him your blood to help him survive.”

  When were rumors ever that accurate? I thought. To my own ears they sounded like lies, the events were so fantastic, but those last few moments beneath the city, fighting against Jillian and Kaden, witnessing Dominic’s heartbreak at their betrayal, and struggling to survive were etched permanently into my memory.

  I’d never forget the vibrating rumble of the coven descending on us. Dominic was unconscious, hemorrhaging after losing his battle against Jillian. I had slit my own wrist and fed Dominic my blood to revive him. Dominic wouldn’t have survived without me, but I’d never have survived against his coven without him.

  To Rene, I shrugged. “You can’t always trust what you hear.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.” Rene leaned forward. A golden blond lock fell over his face. “Until you controlled my mind.”

  Once I’d caught by breath, Rene set me on my feet, and I followed him deep into the cave, away from humanity and civilization, away from the safety of sunlight with only my status as Dominic’s night blood as protection. The cavern air was damp. I could taste its stale moisture from the stagnant water pooled at the cave’s bottom. Rows of stalagmites jutted from the water, some my height and others gigantic, towering over my head and nearly kissing the few stalactites hanging from above. As he led me through the cavern, I couldn’t help but compare this coven entrance to the only other coven I’d ever had the misfortune of entering. Dominic and his vampires lived in the bowels beneath New York City, within a labyrinth of abandoned subway tunnels and sewer drains. His coven’s entrance was dank and dark and underground as well.

  Although Bex and Dominic couldn’t enjoy the sunlight, I’d imagine that living underground in stale air and seclusion, was a type of prison all its own. If I were a vampire, despite all their enhanced senses, strength, and capabilities, I’d still want fresh air and moonlight if I couldn’t have sunlight, and I knew from experience—from Jillian’s betrayal and the other rebels in Dominic’s coven—that I wasn’t the only one who shared that opinion.

  Rene stopped in front of an Old World, brass and oak door. He turned the knob, and the door opened with an ear-splitting, scraping creak that echoed in shaming reverberations throughout the cavern.

  Rene winced. “It’s the moisture. The wood expands, and it’s hell to open.”

  “You could install a new door,” I said. I held back a giggle at the thought of Rene, with his long blond hair and black leathers, with a tool belt.

  “Bex loves this door, among other things.” Rene sighed. “This way, please.”

  Rene stepped inside, and I gaped. The coven wasn’t built from a natural cave. We were walking through a restored mining shaft. Dark, glossed hardwood had been laid as its floor, but the vertical beams and struts of the original mining shaft were sanded, stained, and finished. The beams lined the walls in four-foot intervals and every other beam sported an antique kerosene lamp. The flame in each lamp flickered hypnotically, creating a beating, romantic pulse. I walked forward through the entryway, out of the cavern, and into the hall, feeling like I was stepping back in time.

  The air was less damp in the hall. Rene closed the door behind us, and we walked through the mining shaft in semi silence. Our shoes clipped on the hardwood. The sound echoed, seemingly in pulse with the flickering light. I had questions, so many damn questions that my body felt stretched thin from their unspoken potential, but the flames flickering sedately against the wood beams pulled my thoughts inward. I swallowed my questions and simply absorbed the experience. This mining shaft was built long before my birth, was used for mining before the vampires had claimed it as their home, and would exist as their coven long after my death. Moments like this, when the world is narrowed and timeless and infinite compared to the blip of our existence, the only right answer to the many questions is silence.

  We reached the end of the hall, and Rene opened that door with significantly less ruckus than the first. It swung out gracefully and soundlessly to reveal the dining hall. I caught myself gaping again in open-mouthed awe and made a conscious decision to close my mouth. The hall was stunning. More dark glossy floors and vertical wooden beams accented the space to match the mining shaft, but the kerosene lamps were replaced by crystal candelabra. Their light sparkled over the walls, glittered across the floors, winked down the dark tapestries, and shimmered along the banquet table, brightening the entire hall in subtle iridescent hues.

  Rene strode directly to the banquet table. He pulled out one of the middle seats—a high-backed, cushioned number lined with brass tacks—and gestured for me to sit.

  I eyed the table speculatively. It was already set with four place settings.

  I walked to Rene at a more sedate pace compared to his purposeful clip—my hip was grinding against my last nerve—and sat graciously in the chair he offered.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  Walker joined us a minute later, led by Bex, seemingly no worse for wear from having rappelled into the cavern. He sidestepped Bex, scraped his chair out from the table, and sat next to me without waiting for her gesture. Bex ignored Walker’s mood, smiling as if we were all old friends finally gathered together to dine. Her cowboy boots, jeans, and strappy top were strangely modern and misplaced here in the world she’d created within the mining shaft. Dominic had created a whole city beneath New York City, complete with tunnels and passageways and a labyrinth of corridors and rooms. Bex, on the other hand, hadn’t just created a city. She’d created a passage in time, a world apart from the outside in which her coven could not only inhabit but also thrive.

  Yet Bex herself was dressed like a twenty-year-old cowgirl ready for a night out and looking for a good time.

  Rene removed his leather coat and stood next to the table wearing dark jeans and a button down. He tugged at the collar of hi
s shirt, looking uncomfortable with the top buttons against his throat. As Bex approached, he scooted the chair across from Walker out from the table. Bex sat, and Rene tucked her in place. She nodded, Rene left the room, and the timeless, candlelit silence turned suffocating.

  Bex met Walker’s gaze and smiled. “Thank you for joining me for dinner. Both of you,” she said, looking between the two of us. “I know y’all are swamped with a murder investigation, and I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to keep our dinner date.”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “As if we had a choice,” Walker murmured.

  I jammed the heel of my boot into his shin under the table. He kicked me back with his other foot.

  “There are always choices,” Bex said, her expression and tone still pleasant despite the edge to her words.

  Rene returned with two plates of salad for Walker and me. He filled our glasses with white wine and Bex’s glass as well as his own with a dark crimson, more viscous liquid from a separate decanter. The smell of her drink burned the back of my throat, and Jillian stirred inside me.

  I glanced sideways at Walker.

  He picked up his fork and glanced sideways at me, just as hesitant.

  “Please,” Rene gestured. “Enjoy.”

  I swallowed preemptively, speared a cucumber and spinach leaf in my fork, and took a bite of salad.

  The dressing was sweet and tangy and complimented the crumble of blue cheese over the greens. I swallowed, relief like the warm spread of wine through my limbs, and I forked up another bite. I don’t know what I expected. Despite being invited to dinner, I somehow hadn’t anticipated being fed. As Walker had once warned me, poison wasn’t their style, but as far as I was aware, neither was hosting dinner parties.

  “The dressing is quite good,” I commented truthfully.

  Walker grunted, having taken his first bite.

  Bex nodded. “So Cassidy, what brings you to Erin, New York? Surely Ian isn’t the only reason for such an unexpected visit.”