Page 31 of Blood Claims (Garnet Dagger Mafia #2)

It was a building immersed in French Renaissance charm, with its rich heritage keeping up that elegant standing for those that could afford to stay here.

When she saw the white brick building with its grand entrance, she started to look panicked.

“Don’t fret and try to smile, sweetheart, after all, we don’t want the world thinking we kidnapped you,” I said with a wink, tucking her arm in mine as my brother did the same.

This at the same time as the cameras started flashing as we knew they would.

The press went crazy at our appearance, and the gossip column would have its fill after tonight.

And to give Vanessa her credit, she composed herself well, smiling graciously as the reporters called out to her, asking for her name, and questioning if she was our date.

She never spoke a word, just put on a brave smile for them all.

The way she gripped our arms tighter as if we were her shields against it all gave me a sense of pride.

I even heard my brother lean down and praise,

“You’re doing great, not much further now.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, her smile never slipping as we made it the rest of the way to the doors.

“Well done, baby,” I told her when she released a big sigh and admitted,

“I don’t think I took a single breath.”

As we stepped inside the building she gasped, thoughts of the intrusive reporters a thing of the past.

“Wow, this place… it’s amazing.”

I glanced around the lobby and saw it with fresh eyes as she did now. What with its gold crown moldings, white paneled walls and beautiful mosaic floor, I questioned if there were many times she had seen a place like this. From the looks of it, I guessed not.

I was now captivated with her big eyes, as the blue and green flecks danced under the crystal chandelier. A large display of flowers at the center added a pleasant aroma to the room, but not one powerful enough to mask the delicious scent of her.

But if she thought this was elegant, then I couldn’t wait to see what she would think of the Plaza’s fabled Grand Ballroom.

One that had been the location for numerous extravagant events.

This including Truman Capote’s famous 1966 ‘Black and White Ball’.

An event we attended all that time ago as it was to honor Washington Post publisher, Kay Graham.

The hotel still quotes to this day that Capote said that he chose The Plaza ‘because it has the only beautiful ballroom left in New York.’ And in many ways, he wasn’t wrong.

But for quite some time now, I had grown tired of the stuffy social events my brother still had no choice but to attend, seeing as he was the face of the family. And as for me, I had been more than happy to let him.

“I don’t suppose any of you have my phone, do you?

I would love to take a picture and send it to Stacey, she would freakin’ love this place!

” she said excitedly, making us both tense next to her.

Because of course my brother had informed me what had nearly happened to her friend.

Meaning that it had been a good job Andras had been there.

Good job he had taken to stalking her. The kidnappers had gotten close enough to break into the apartment and attack her before Andras had taken care of the situation.

Of course, none survived, as his rage had been uncontrollable the moment he saw the attack on his Fated.

Something confirmed when my brother had accused at the time,

“And you didn’t think to leave any alive to interrogate?”

“She’s my fated. So, no,” was Andras’s reply. Something my brother had to concede, replying with a short,

“Fair enough.”

This had all been said on a phone call with him, once we knew our own Fated was in the shower and out of hearing distance. As we didn’t think telling her would do any good. Not yet anyway, as it would only worry her more.

So, we had instead agreed to Stacey being taken to a safehouse, where Andras refused to leave her side. He had also refused to rid her memories of it, as he stated that it was a line he would no longer cross. His words spoke volumes, considering I had been convinced the brutal asshole had no heart.

Clearly, we were wrong.

Because it had started beating for the first time for his little gothic Fated.

As for Stacey, she had been hit a few times, received a busted lip and a black eye, but other than that, it could have been much worse.

As for the ones stupid enough to try and use her as leverage of some kind, they were in pieces and the apartment in need of a clean-up crew.

Not surprising seeing as Andras was a different breed to us.

One who had found his famed berserker rage at the hands of a demon who owned his soul.

It was a complicated business, and one he had not fully divulged to us.

And we didn’t ask, for it was clear he was as loyal as they came.

Meaning that should the claim on his soul ever get in the way of his duties, he would simply walk away without it ever touching us.

Now as for finding himself Fated to a mortal, well…

that fucking complicated shit for him. As for us, the attack on her friend also complicated shit for us.

Because if Vanessa knew we were keeping this from her, then the trust we had built would shatter.

So, we were trying to navigate it carefully, waiting until we were home tonight and once our own problem was taken care of, as we couldn’t risk her slipping free of us in the night again

Fuck, but finding her gone once more had ignited pure fucking panic within us both.

So no, we couldn’t risk it, and we knew she would have fought us on the extra security.

Shit, but she already felt like a prisoner, what would she think knowing she was forced to sleep behind locked doors she couldn’t open without us.

And she wouldn’t stay in the apartment knowing something had happened to her friend.

No, she would have insisted on being there with her. She would have beaten herself up, blaming herself that this was all her fault. That she had brought trouble on her friend and so forth and so forth. She would have been a mess.

So, we had delayed the inevitable.

And now we continued to do the same as my brother handed her his phone, telling her to take the picture with his. That she could send the picture to her friend later, playing his part perfectly in the ruse that everything was fine.

Her eyes widened when she saw the screensaver was a picture of her sleeping, and even more so when he told her the pin code was the day he had met her.

My code was the day before, and my picture was the same one, but taken from the other side of her.

And fuck me, but the way her eyes took on that tender softness made me run a hand down the open back of her dress, words not needed between us.

However, now there was that undercurrent of an emotion I wasn’t used to feeling… guilt.

Guilt of what we knew and kept from her. My knowing glance found my brother’s as again, words weren’t needed between us to know we both felt it.

“Come, let’s venture inside and see what the night holds,” my brother said after she had taken her pictures. My mind now questioning the very same thing…

What would the night hold, indeed?