It shouldn’t have surprised me when the thing swung open and nobody was behind it except for an inky, unfathomable darkness. The place smelled empty, of dust and closed-up rooms and food gone bad. The scent was strong enough to be overwhelming. I could have just turned around right then. I could have marched back to my shitty little car and signed the papers and started over, just like Holloway suggested.
But deep inside, a light glowed yellow, so I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. I could barely make out the form of an imposing man as he emerged from the lit doorway, then the shadows swallowed him up before I got a good look. His buttery-smooth voice floated down the hall to me as he murmured, “Selena Langston.”
“That’s me.” Internally I winced at my flippant tone, but I kept my back straight. I was a Langston, damn it, and I had nothing to be embarrassed about. It wasn’t my fault the company was drowning in debt, and if I could just convince this guy to…
I sensed him approaching through the shadows, but I couldn’t see anything in the darkness. For a breathless few seconds, he was nothing but an ominous shadow gliding silently toward me, and then Bastian Forge stepped into the light. That was the moment I realized I was completely in over my head.
At first glance, he was everything my family had warned me about, and then some.
I didn’t have much experience with vampires, but he was enormous. Tall and rangy, he stalked toward me, making the spacious entry seem claustrophobic as he filled it up with a pair of broad shoulders and a bad attitude. I deduced this by the half-snarl curling his lip—and his eyes. I couldn’t see the color, but I swear to God, they glowed. My heart stuttering, I couldn’t have run if I wanted to.
There was no doubt it was Forge.
Every line of his handsome face—the one I’d stared at longer than I should have—was exactly like the old painting. But unlike in the artwork, his high, sharp cheekbones and sweep of black hair were accented by an aura of careless arrogance. He filled the air with power—it seeped from him like a drug, intoxicating and frighteningly seductive, and despite my best efforts, it affected me. But it wasn’t his size or intensity that had me reevaluating my sanity; it was his cold, impassive tone.
“Miss Langston. I assume you were warned against contacting me? Which means you are not only reckless, you are incapable of following orders.”
I was neither of those things—mostly not—and bristled at his accusation.
“I’m perfectly capable of following orders, as you call them, but not when my company is on the line.”
His skin was paler than I’d imagined, so the painting wasn’t one hundred percent accurate. Or he’d spent the last few centuries indoors.
“Nevertheless, your ancestor swore an oath to me,” he said. “I expect that promise to be honored.”
“That was two hundred years ago. Surely there’s a time limit for honoring an agreement?” I plowed ahead, fueled mostly by fear and desperation, because maybe, if I got the words out fast enough, somehow, he might actually listen. “I’m losing the company. It’s about to revert to the board of directors, who will dismantle it and sell it off to the highest bidder. Langston-Forge is all I’ve got.” I raised the bottle so the amber liquid caught the light. “Except for this. Once I decant this batch in six months, L&F will be liquid again. Literally. All I’m asking for is a short-term loan.”
“Get out of my house.”
I bit my lip, probably a no-no when in present company, but I couldn’t help myself. “Please. I don’t have anyone else to go to.”
Menace flashed across his face before he schooled it into a calm, detached mask. “They don’t have banks these days?” Hostility emanated from him, filling up the hallway, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This was not a vampire to be trifled with, but I was looking at my very last hope. God, I wish he wasn’t so pissed off.
“But…what about the note? You left me a note offering your help.” My brain seemed to have slowed down.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, but let us assume that concludes your business here.” He took another step toward me, and this close, I had to look up to see his eyes. The hostility in them was nothing short of frightening.
My lungs contracted in fear as I debated my options. None. I had no options. This was it.
“No, it doesn’t conclude anything,” I said. The hand holding the bottle was slippery with sweat. I hoped I didn’t drop it on his floor. “I found a note on my desk. Signed by you.” My brain grabbed on to bits of information like they were life rafts. “You contacted me first. Aren’t you interested in saving the company you founded?”
“Not in the least.”
His answer threw me for a second before I recovered. “Why not?”
He frowned down at me, his eyes narrowing. “Because I was never interested in the business, not like your ancestor. Ambrose took my money and built his company, and the only thing I asked for in return was to never be bothered. You are bothering me.”
“Fine.” I shoved the bottle forward. “Taste this and tell me it’s not the best you’ve ever had. If it isn’t, then I’ll go away.”
For a second, we stared at each other, then his top lip inched up, revealing a glint of a fang.
Infernal humans. It’s a wonder they’ve survived this long.
That was Forge’s grumpy voice, in my head. I looked around, convinced I was losing my mind.
Incapable of following simple instructions.
That was definitely Forge speaking, even though his lips hadn’t moved and he was still staring at me like I was a fly he wanted to swat. His voice rang in my head, and not like
