He nodded to Trey and Knight before he led me down the long hallway into an office that had more of a sitting room feel to it. The carpet was thick white, and I had no idea how he kept it so immaculate. Two red velvet armchairs bookended a dark mahogany coffee table. The only business-like thing about the room was the laptop that stood unattended on the coffee table. With the black of the walls and ceiling, the white curtains, and the red chairs, I felt like I was in a newspaper with a nosebleed. Bram pulled out the plush velvet chair for me as he took the one opposite. “Did you question Dagan about my massage…” “It’s all yours,” I interrupted. “He said he has no interest in it.” “Very good news, although I am not convinced I believe him.” “That’s between you and him.” He laughed and eyed me curiously. “I am intrigued, Sweet. Tell me why you are here.” I cleared my throat, not exactly sure where to start or how. “I um, I’m interested in writing a book about you.”
Bram leaned forward, his eyes wide with surprise. “I must say, I was definitely not expecting that! I did not know you fancied yourself a writer.”
I shrugged. “I wrote a…historical novel. When I sent it out, the feedback I got was that paranormals were in demand. Especially about vampires, if you can believe it.”
He leaned back against the red velvet of the chair. With his black hair and light skin, he looked like part of the room’s scenery. “I see. Will this be a biography?”
“No, more a…a romance.”
I swallowed the humiliation that was choking me and wanted to shoot myself for even considering the ridiculous notion in the first place. He bobbed his head enthusiastically. “A romance? I like that even better.” “But it will be biographical, too. I bet in your nearly three hundred years, you must’ve seen a lot?” “Yes, of course.” He paused. “I would be honored to be your muse, Sweet.” “Great, thanks.” “Who will be my love interest?” “I don’t know. That part I can just make up.” He smiled. “Perhaps a fairy?”
“Oh, Hades,” I grumbled and stood up. “I’ve gotta get going, Bram, but thanks. Can we make some time to get together this week? I’d like to start interviewing you.” He laughed. “I am available whenever you are.” I bit my lip. “There’s just one other thing…” “Anything, Sweet.” “Would you mind coming to my apartment?” Since I was stuck watching Trey for a while, it would be easier if Bram came to me. “Of course. Shall I see you tomorrow evening?” “That would be great. Thanks, Bram.”
Bram opened the door for me. Trey and Knight were in deep conversation with Angela, and the surge of jealousy that warred through me gave me pause. Why the hell did I give even the slightest of craps that Angela was flirting with Trey and Knight? Hmm, better rephrase the question: why did I give even the slightest of craps that Angela was flirting with Knight? It was an answer I didn’t want to know. “We can go now,” I said. “Angela, what do I owe you for the drinks?” She glanced at Knight. “Nothing, on the house.” I just shook my head.
THIRTEEN
Two hours later, Trey was passed out on the couch, and Knight was trying to find something on TV. He surfed the channels, stopping periodically to watch something seemingly intriguing, only to change the station yet again. I’d been working on the intro to my new Bram book, and the background noise was becoming an issue. With a sigh, I focused on my first page and read the opening paragraph again:
Raven was a vampire, and like most vampires, he was tall, dark and handsome with curly locks and caramel eyes. But he was one man you didn’t want to rub the wrong way. With his superhuman strength and bewitching eyes, his wish was my command. And now, as I realized the vampire was about to sink his fangs into my carotid artery, deep inside, I was scared.
Okay, so I was using myself as the narrator and, yes, the love interest-so what? It wasn’t like I had the hots for Bram.
I didn’t realize I’d been softly reading out loud until Knight glanced up. He scrutinized me like an old woman squinting at an eye chart. “What are you working on?” he called from the couch.
“Just a…book, that’s all,” I grumbled, not pulling my eyes from the monitor.
“About what?”
Goddamit. I’d brought this on myself-working on it when he was here in the room with me. But even with privacy at a premium, I had to get my writing in somehow. “I, uh, I’m working on a paranormal book.” He sat up and dropped the volume of the television to a gentle drone. “I didn’t know you were a writer.” “I’m really not much of one,” I said, shaking my head.
As I refocused on the page, I glimpsed Knight still watching me. Okay, so he found me more interesting than the TV-that was a compliment. I swiveled around in my chair, so I could face him, and thought maybe a break was just what I needed. “Is this your first book?” he asked. “No, I wrote another book and tried to get an agent but no one was interested.” “Sorry to hear that.” He nodded toward the computer. “What’s this one about?”
I blushed, not entirely sure why I was so embarrassed. A writer shouldn’t be self conscious about her own work, right? “It’s a paranormal.” His brows drew together in what appeared to be confusion. I sighed. “My first book was historical, but I was advised that historicals are out and paranormals are in.” “You still haven’t said what it’s about.” I dropped my gaze. “It’s about a vampire.” Knight’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Was that the business you had with Bram, then?”
Well, if nothing else, he was astute. I bobbed my head, and Knight’s eyes narrowed in what appeared to be resentment. “He hardly warrants a book,” he said. “He’s…unimpressive.” “Well, that’s your opinion.” Knight chuckled. “Why write about vampires? Why not something more…unusual?” “What, like a Loki?” I laughed as Knight shrugged. “One agent told me everyone likes vampire stories.” “Can’t say I’m a fan, myself.” I picked up a pen and tapped the tip against my lips. “I can’t say I am either.”
We both fell silent as I debated whether or not to continue working on the book. It was already getting late and I’d lost my inspiration, what little I had anyway. Besides, I had all the time in the world to get it done.
“So, if you’re from the Netherworld, why do you sound like you’re American?”
Knight laughed a deep and rumbling sound. A nice sound if I had to judge. “You’ve never been to the Netherworld, I take it?” He leaned back against the tiny section of couch Trey wasn’t occupying and folded his hands behind his head, revealing the great width of his chest. I gulped and feigned interest in the sleeping Trey. Holy Hades, Trey was unsightly, but it was damned easier looking at him than Knight.
Then I remembered Knight had asked me a question. “No. I was born here.”
“Are your parents still here, then?”
I shook my head and dropped my attention to the floor as I thought about my parents, something I hadn’t done in the last six months, at least. “No, my father’s still in the Netherworld…as far as I know.”
“But you’ve never been?”
I picked at a loose thread in my shorts, only managing to weaken the seam. “No. My mother came to California from the Netherworld when she was pregnant with me. I was born in Southern California. I moved to Splendor after Mom died and… some other things happened.” “Other things?” I cleared my throat. “A bad relationship.” “I’m sorry to bring up a painful subject,” Knight said and finally dropped his arms. “And your mother?” “My mom died a long time ago.” Even now, eight years after my mother's death, the words still rang through me empty and hollow. “Dulcie, you don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to.”
He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs and glanced up at me, a lock of black hair obscuring his left eye. He pushed it aside, but I couldn’t tear my focus away from it. It was as if that little wavy lock of jet black hair would help me get through the memory of my mother’s untimely demise.
“I haven’t talked about it in a very long time,” I said, amazed by the upwelling of emotions within me. “She was killed by a goblin. That’s why I became a Regulator.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Your mother would be proud of you. You’re smart and very perceptive.”
I smiled and thought he sounded like Quillan. And thoughts of Quillan led to thoughts of that one kiss. Suddenly I wondered what kissing Knight would be like. Yeah, we’d kissed in Dagan’s club, but it wasn’t like a real kiss. I glanced at Knight again, at his full, pouting lips which looked like they'd been made for kissing. I sighed, trying to force the thoughts from my mind, as I expelled the air from my lungs.
“So, tell me about the Netherworld.”
Knight shrugged. “What would you like to know?”
