“Good boy,” Marguerite said, and then gave the slightest pressure on his chain. The big dog stepped back from Pet and turned to his mistress as she gestured to Parker and said, “J, this is Parker and his cat, Mrs. Wiggles.”
The dog peered at the boy and cat and then tilted his head and moved it slowly forward until it just rested on the edge of Parker’s thigh next to the cat. Mrs. Wiggles sat very still, her eyes narrowed as Parker reached out to pet the dog’s head, but then unbent enough to lean forward and lick the dog’s snout once before relaxing back on Parker.
“I think she likes him,” Parker said with a grin as he continued to pet the dog.
“I think so too,” Marguerite agreed, returning his grin, and Pet sighed inwardly. Leave it to a cat to be contrary. She wanted it to raise a fuss and try to swat the big dog so she’d have an excuse to take Parker and the cat away. So, of course, the cat liked the damned dog.
“Eat your cookie, Parker. You need to get to bed,” she said quietly after a moment, and her nephew acted as good as gold, nodding and giving J one last pat before turning his attention back to his cookie and cocoa.
When Marguerite returned to her chair and sat down, the big dog followed and dropped to lie at her feet. The moment he did, the woman bent to remove the leash.
“He seems well trained,” Pet commented as Marguerite set the leash on the table. “How old is he?”
“Just over a year old.” Marguerite bent to pet the big beast. “Julius got him for me about three months after we lost his predecessor to cancer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Pet murmured, knowing how painful such a loss could be. They’d always had dogs as kids. She actually missed that.
“Thank you for the hot chocolate and cookie.”
Parker’s polite words drew Pet’s attention to the fact that he’d finished his snack . . . which meant it was bedtime, and she hadn’t managed to come up with an excuse to leave.
“I’ll show you to your rooms,” Marguerite said brightly, getting to her feet.
“Room,” Pet said quickly as she got up as well. “I can sleep with Parker and Mrs. Wiggles. It’ll be less work.”
“As you like,” Marguerite said easily as she headed for the door.
“Sleep well,” Santo murmured.
Pet glanced back at that soft rumble from the big man and saw that the dog had moved to sit by him rather than follow his mistress. She mumbled, “Good night,” as she followed her nephew and Marguerite out of the kitchen, but the truth was Pet didn’t expect she’d sleep at all. Once the house was quiet and she was sure everyone was sleeping, she might even sneak Parker and Mrs. Wiggles out and leave a note with some excuse or other . . . if she could come up with one. She set her mind to that task as she trailed Parker upstairs but hadn’t come up with anything when Marguerite stopped and opened a door halfway up the hall.
“This is the guest bathroom,” she announced with a smile.
“Oh, good! I gotta go,” Parker said with relief, and then hesitated before turning to Pet to offer her the cat and blanket.
Pet took the bundle of blanket and fur and watched solemnly as he closed the door.
“While he’s in there, why don’t I show you the room you will be using?” Marguerite suggested.
Pet hesitated, but then nodded and followed Marguerite to the next room down the hall.
“Here we go.” Marguerite opened the door and led the way inside. “Julius and I are just across the hall, and Santo is in the next room up from this one, so you know where to go if there’s a problem or you need extra blankets or pillows.”
“Thank you,” Pet said quietly as she set Mrs. Wiggles on the queen-sized bed. The cat clawed at the blankets briefly and then turned in a circle several times before settling down like a queen claiming her throne.
“Petronella,” Marguerite said gently, drawing her gaze away from the cat. “We have no connection to the Brass Circle in China. In fact, we work with Enforcers who would hunt members of that group down should they ever try to move their activities into North America. You really are safe with us.”
Pet’s eyes widened incredulously. She’d been trying hard not to think about that boogeyman from her childhood called the Brass Circle ever since spotting the silver flecks in their eyes and recognizing that they were the result of nanos that made them immortal. Obviously, she’d failed. Enough of her thoughts had slid through for Marguerite to read them, and she was trying to reassure her. “I—”
“Hey! You left without me!”
Pet snapped her mouth closed and turned to the door as Parker rushed in. Managing a smile, she explained, “Marguerite was just showing me where we’re going to sleep.”
“Cool,” he said, heading straight for the cat. Cooing soothing words, he gave the animal a gentle pet and then climbed into bed.
“Well, I should go and let you two sleep. Good night,” Marguerite said solemnly.
“Good night, Marguerite,” Parker chirped.
Pet murmured, “Good night,” as well and watched the woman pull the door closed.
Five
Santo knew Marguerite was coming long before she appeared in the kitchen. He heard the whisper of her gown and the sound of her heartbeat before she’d made the bottom of the stairs. J raised his head and watched the door a moment later as he too heard her approach.
“How did you know?” Santo asked the moment his aunt stepped into the room.
Marguerite paused and peered at him with a smile just beginning to bloom on her lips as she asked, “You cannot read her then?”
Santo shook his head. “But you expected that.”
“I did,” she breathed, her smile finally breaking out. “The minute she pulled up in her car and walked up to join us on the front porch with her sister, I just knew she was yours.”
“How?” he asked with curiosity. He hadn’t recognized her at first. Oh, certainly, he’d found her attractive. But that attraction had been distracting enough that, despite Marguerite’s suggestion that he read her, he hadn’t thought to try until they were sitting here at the kitchen table. He’d only done it then because Pet had seemed so stiff and tense. She’d kept her expression composed, but he’d sensed that she was braced to leap up, snatch her nephew, and flee at the first provocation. It had made him curious enough to finally think he should read her. His shock when he’d found he couldn’t . . . Santo still felt that shock again and closed his eyes briefly. His life mate. Dear God, he could hardly believe it. He had waited so long for her.
“It is hard to explain,” Marguerite said finally, drawing his eyes open. “It is a kind of energy that comes off of you both. It is . . . not exactly the same, but . . .” She shook her head helplessly.
Santo nodded solemnly, letting her off the hook. He was about to ask why Pet was afraid, and—more important—if it was because of him, when they heard the front door open and close. J was on his feet at once and rushing from the room with a soft woof of greeting.
“Ciao amico,” they heard from the hall and Santo sat back in his seat and relaxed as he recognized Julius’s voice. His uncle entered the kitchen a moment later, petting the dog as he walked, but straightened as soon as he reached Marguerite. Kissing her firmly in greeting, he slid his arms around her waist and smiled down into her face as he asked, “How is my goddess?”
“Glad to see you,” she said with a smile, placing her own arms around his neck. “Is everything okay at the house?”
“Mmm.” Julius nodded and kissed her again before saying, “We handled the police and then took care of the gaping hole where the front door used to be, and now the boys are watching the Purdy house from there.” Turning to Santo then, Julius arched an eyebrow. “Could you not have merely broken the door open without completely demolishing it? There was not enough wood left to even nail it across the hole. We had to break up a coffee table and a bed headboard and use them. Now we have to replace those as well.”
“I will pay,” Santo assured him.
“No, you will not,” Julius said firmly. “The Council will pay. We are here on their behalf.”
He didn’t let Santo argue the point, but started to usher Marguerite to the door, saying, “Now I am taking my wife back to bed. You should retire too. You and I are replacing Zani and Bricker at the Peters’ house tomorrow morning. Good night, nephew.”
“Good night,” Santo murmured as he watched them leave. For the first time, he didn’t feel the pinch of envy that normally assailed him when he saw mated couples together. There was nothing to envy. He had met his life mate . . . Now, he just had to figure out how to woo and claim her.
Santo blinked as that thought ran through his mind. Good Christ! He had to woo and convince her to allow him to claim her. How the devil was he supposed to do that? Unfortunately, Santo didn’t have a ready answer. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d wooed anyone. As in more than two millennia. He had some serious thinking to do.
Pet snapped awake and lifted her head, barely restraining a groan as her neck muscles protested. She was sitting at the top of the bed next to Parker and had nodded off, her head falling forward, so that her chin rested against her chest.
Grimacing, Pet rubbed the complaining muscles of her neck with both hands and peered around the room. She’d left the lamp on her side of the bed lit to help her stay awake. Sleeping had not been on the agenda. While Marguerite’s assurance that they were not affiliated with the Brass Circle had at first reassured her . . . well, talk was cheap. She didn’t know these people. Marguerite could be lying, so Pet had decided she’d remain on her guard until she could talk to the woman again and learn more.
Part of her brain was arguing that Marguerite had no need to lie. As an immortal, or what most people would mistakenly call a vampire, Marguerite could have just taken control of her and made her do whatever she wanted. That being the case, why would the woman waste her energy on lying? But the more cautious side of Pet, and much to her surprise there was a more cautious side, was arguing that it was better to be safe than sorry.