Textured black wallpaper decorated the walls, dotted with golden sconces and frosted glass. Vintage fixtures were everywhere, right down to the embellished grating on the heating vents and elaborate crown molding. Though they weren’t turned on, there were lighting fixtures shaped like picture frames in spots—the kind that called to mind an old-fashioned dressing table. Big, bulbs surrounded where the mirrors used to be. Lauren Bacall would have sat in front of one in a silk dressing gown, reading the note on a dozen roses from Bogart.
“There aren’t actually fish in that tank. We move around too much to have pets, but Tucker thinks it gives the place atmosphere,” Jonas said dryly. “There’s no kitchen,” Jonas said at her side, gesturing to the left side of the room where a stainless steel appliance hummed. “We do have a refrigerator, so we’ll be able to keep your food from spoiling.”
“How will I cook the eggs?”
“Huh.” He gave her a boyish half smile. “I didn’t think of that. It’s been a while since I had to worry about meal preparations.”
“It’s okay. I won’t be here long, right?”
“Right.” His smile faded. “As soon as I eliminate the danger you’re in…I’ll bring you home where you belong.”
Ginny advanced into the room, worrying over the emptiness in her chest. If she was already sad about leaving, how would she feel when the time actually came? And far more importantly, Jonas had just admitted to thirsting for her blood every second of the day. Why wasn’t she screaming for help?
Why did she want to lean against his solid chest and exist quietly inside the silent, unexplainable bond between them?
“Are you going to give me a tour?”
“Sort of.” Jonas came up beside Ginny, taking her warm hand in his cool one, guiding her through the apartment and into a wide hallway. “I’m not sure you want to see more of what Tucker considers design choices. And Elias is extremely private. I’m going to give you my room while you’re here, so I’ll take you there.”
“Where are you going to sleep—” Ginny caught herself. “I mean…how often do you sleep?”
“Every couple of weeks.” His thumb traced the veins in the back of her hand. “I won’t be sleeping until this situation is resolved and you’re safe, so my bed is free.”
“Is it always free?”
His eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”
“What?” She turned her head so Jonas wouldn’t see her self-directed eye roll. What is wrong with you? “I’m not curious about your love life at all.”
“Aren’t you?” Jonas moved back into her line of sight. “I definitely wanted to know about yours.”
“You don’t want to know anymore?”
“You’ve never kissed…” His upper lip curled with distaste. “…Gordon and he’s the only date you’ve been on. You’re not the casual affair type. I think I’ve got it figured out.”
He knows I’m a virgin. Great.
Amusement crept across his face, which was half illuminated in the blue glow of the fish tank. “You’re speaking out loud again, Ginny.”
“Oh.” She shifted. “Well, do you want to tell me about your…”
“Love life.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek. “I’d rather not.”
“Why?”
He seemed to be thinking hard about his answer. “I felt something like love once, a long, long time ago. Probably before your parents were born. Between then and now…” He searched for words. “I definitely wouldn’t use ‘love’ to describe any of it.”
An unpleasant shock ran through her. “Oh my Lord. Are you a player, Jonas?”
“What? No.” He shoved impatient fingers through his hair. “No, Ginny. I am not that. Not at all. I’m just finding it difficult to admit I’ve been with anyone at all. Ever. When you’re near me, I just want like hell to undo everything.”
The shock dulled to a slight pinch. Honestly, Ginny. Was she actually jealous? It would be ridiculous to expect a man who looked like Jonas to be celibate, especially considering he’d been alive almost ninety years. “They were…other vampires?”
Jonas’s nod was almost non-existent as he crowded her against the hallway wall. “Even though I can’t have you, God help me…” His palms molded to her hips. “If I’d known you were out there, I’d have easily abstained—”
A door slammed open just ahead in the hallway and Ginny was swept behind Jonas’s back in the blink of an eye. “Do my senses deceive me?” rasped a voice. “Or is that the human?”
The human?
“Elias,” Jonas said in a measured tone, as if gauging the other vampire’s reaction to her. “This is Ginny. It sounds like you already knew Roksana and I have been protecting her.”
“Roksana?” Slowly, footsteps creaked closer. “No, I’ve been smelling this one on you every time you walk in the door. Whatever and whoever you do in your spare time is none of my business, but I never imagined you’d bring her here.” The footsteps stopped. “What the hell does Roksana have to do with her?”
Ginny tried to peek out from behind Jonas, but he sidestepped, thwarting her.
“She’s facing a threat—and there’s no doubt it’s one of our kind. An Elder. I tasked Roksana with keeping her safe.” Jonas’s paused. “She was unsuccessful, so I brought Ginny here.”
“Roksana was unsuccessful?” Elias’s entire demeanor had been almost bored until now. His energy was instantly alert. “Where is she now?”
“Training apparently,” Jonas said. “I don’t know where.”
Ginny was backed up against the wall as Elias thundered past, his booted feet whapping on the floor. She only managed to catch a flash of angry forehead above a flipped overcoat collar, before Elias threw open the front door of the apartment.
Tucker was standing on the threshold with brown paper bags in his arms, the cigar trapped in the corner of his mouth. “Aw, honey.” A puff of smoke went up. “You came to help me carry the groceries?”
“I can smell it rotting,” Elias grumbled. “Is this going to be a regular thing?”
“It was kind of nice playing human,” Tucker said, striding into the room and setting the bags down on the couch. “Where you headed, El?”
“Roksana,” he growled.
The door slammed behind Elias a second later.
“He’s even more chipper than usual,” commented Tucker, shifting items around inside the bags with his hands. “Hey, prince. Look at this shit.” He held up a circular baked good wrapped in plastic. “They make pie crusts out of Nilla Wafers now. Where was this kind of thing when we had a working digestive systems, right?”
Jonas slowly let her out from behind him, but kept her tucked to his side. “Did you get anything practical?”
“Peanut butter and Ritz crackers. That’s all I remember eating when I was human.” He took out a six pack of Miller Light. “And beer to wash it down.”
Ginny perked up. “I’ve never had beer.”
Tucker gyrated his hips, apparently dancing to music only he could hear. “Well hot damn. This calls for a party, sweetheart.”
“I’ve never had a party, either!”
“Call her sweetheart again. I dare you.” Jonas tossed her face down over his shoulder and continued down the hallway. “No one enters my room under any circumstances while she’s here.”
“Party pooper,” Tucker called, then to himself, “Nilla Wafer pie crust. The human race might make it after all.”
A smile bloomed on Ginny’s face—and only partway because she was eye level with Jonas’s flexing backside. “I like Tucker.”
He grunted.
Her world turned right side up again when he settled her feet flat on the floor. A light came on—the bedside lamp, she turned to find.
Jonas’s room was nothing like she expected. His regal bearing had her picturing expensive bedding, thick oriental rugs and possibly a butler. What she saw instead was sparse, functional. Almost empty.
There was a small bed, devoid of anything but a fitted sheet. An antique dresser with glass knobs. The walls had been painted a melancholy silvery blue and she could almost picture him holding the paintbrush, stroking the wall in lonely silence. A chair sat in the corner by a closed closet door and there was a single shelf hanging in the center of the largest wall, small and out of place, like a single freckle in the center of a pale back.
On it sat a gold picture frame.
She was too far away to make out the photo, so she ventured closer, feeling rather than seeing Jonas’s tension mounting.
Ginny slowed her progress and sent Jonas a questioning look. “May I?”
“Yes, of course.”
Inside the frame was a faded sepia photograph of two people who appeared to be in their fifties, sitting at a table with a half-eaten birthday cake in front of them. Jonas stood behind their chairs, smiling. “Is this your family?”
His nod was uneven. “By blood, yes.”
“What do you mean, by blood?”
He sat down on the corner of the bed, his fingers loosely hooked together. “Those are my parents.” His stare was far off. “Once I became…like this, I couldn’t have any contact with them. After hurting them so badly, I’m not sure I deserve to call them my mother and father.”
Ginny set down the picture from and sat down beside him on the bed, noting the way his nostrils flared at her closeness. The way his whole body seemed to constrict. “You don’t seem the type to hurt them if you could help it.”
“At the time, it seemed like it couldn’t be helped. You know what they say about hindsight, though.” He looked down at his loosely clasped hands. “Another lifetime ago, I was an entrepreneur looking for an investor in this invention of mine.”