He glanced at me as we stepped into the elevator, looking adorably puzzled. “What happened? It must have been serious if it had to wait.”
I frowned. “I wanted you to be fully awake and focused because you’re not going to like it,” I replied as the elevator stopped at ground level. We stepped out into my fake master bedroom, and I could practically feel the tension coming off him as we followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen. He said nothing as he poured a cup for himself and then offered me one. I indicated a half cup with thumb and forefinger only out of politeness and we took our cups to the couch where we sat. I could practically feel the thrum of anticipation from him as we took our seats.
“Well, what is it I’m not going to like? What happened?” he asked, getting right to the point.
“I’ll tell you, and then you’ll explain to me why you returned to the house smelling like death and werewolves last night, okay?”
Romeo nodded, and I cleared my throat.
“I had three unexpected visitors at the store yesterday afternoon,” I said.
“Who?” he asked.
“Three vampires, two of whom I’ve known a long time, and a new one, made vampire less than a hundred years ago. I didn’t know him,” I rushed to explain.
Romeo frowned deeply. “Who are they and what did they want from you?”
I sighed again, hesitating only a second. “Honestly?”
“Vincent…” he growled under his breath.
“They wanted to kill me.”
Chapter Five
Prosper Woods Chronicle. Letters to the editor:
“Last night, Curly and me couldn’t get into the old drive-in ‘cause the lot was full to the brim with ghost cars. Mama says that ain’t a thing and that the drive-in’s been closed for years. I think we’ll need more Budweiser to know for sure.” Signed, “Another twelve-pack or two.”
Romeo
It was with more than a little dread that I stared at Vincent with my mouth hanging open. More vampires? I rolled my eyes thinking that the last thing this town needed was more vampires. Vincent hadn’t said much about his encounters with other vampires over the centuries, but from what he had shared, the meetings hadn’t been good. A better description might be confrontations.
Also, I had the feeling Vincent preferred the fact that he’d moved through life untethered to others of his species. From a law enforcement point of view, I was certain more vampires in a town full of werewolves who hated them would only bring more misery to the citizenry. It certainly couldn’t be good for the humans, shifters, or for my vampire.
Recently, Vincent had been able to escape certain death from a pack of werewolves, and at the very least, a war between species because he had a unicorn mate. I was but one person and knew I couldn’t possibly do the same for others of his kind. Besides, hadn’t Vincent told me that he was unique among vampires? I knew the man had a heart of gold in his chest, beating or not. He’d explained that his maker, Robert, was a monster who fed off fear and horror in his human victims, making them hurt and killing with great cruelty. The last thing Prosper Woods needed was a band of vampires like that.
“Tell me what happened. How do you know these vampires?” I asked.
“While you were at work yesterday, I got a call from Scott, the manager at my store. He told me he’d unpacked a box of very old books, and there were customers in the store who wanted to buy them.”
“The customers were the vampires?”
“Yes.”
“How did Scott know that?”
“Know they were vampires?”
I nodded.
“He didn’t. Let me start again. I’m not explaining this right,” Vincent said. “When I packed up my home in preparations to move here, I had a box of books and other belongings that were once my maker’s. These books date back centuries. They are a set of eight books bound in brown leather and hand copied on parchment paper. In fact, they are some of the oldest manuscripts ever written and are museum quality.”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, they’d belonged to Robert, and he told me that within their pages were secrets, and I was always to keep them safe.” He blinked at me. “I made a terrible mistake.”
“What did you do?”
“I guess they somehow got loaded into the truck with all the other antique books which are being sold at the store. When I asked Scott to open the boxes and stock the bookshelves before leaving yesterday morning, I didn’t realize these books were among those boxes. The moment the box was open, the vampires swooped in and demanded Scott sell them to them.”
“I don’t understand. How did they know about the books and the exact moment the box was opened and put on the shelves?” I asked.
“There is something magical about the tomes,” Vincent said. “I don’t know what it is or even what the books say because they are written in an ancient vampiric language that only the eight oldest living vampires can read and write. They were never supposed to be exposed to the public. I’ve kept them for over seven hundred years because they’ve been packed away, hidden from all prying eyes in my private library. I thought they’d been delivered here to the house with my other belongings, but they somehow made it into the van being driven to the store.”
“These old vampires…why don’t they own these books? Why do you still have them if they’re so important and coveted?”
“Robert was once the consort of Victoria, one of the Conclave of Eight—the oldest vampires—and it’s my understanding that she gave them to him much like
