Page 62 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

“I will, as soon it grows dark. The sun is bright today, and I have not slept much.” He did sound tired.

“So I just wait here?” Alone. In this opulent bachelor’s den with a half-dressed vampire.

“ Oui . Can you manage that for me?”

“I’m not making any promises.” She watched the other vampire who pointedly had his back to her, even as he heard every word.

“Why am I not surprised? Look after her please, Gabe. I will see you later.” His voice didn’t rise, confirming how acute vampire hearing was.

“Sure thing, Antoine. She’s in good hands,” Gabe said from across the room, carefully holding a record by its edges.

Cally ended the call as Gabe placed the record on a modern turntable. The lever clicked into place, lowering the needle with a gentle hiss. The lyrical notes of classical music drifted through the room.

Not only did this vampire wink, but he listened to Mozart.

“What about you?” Cally asked, her voice sharp. “You ever been to Milton?”

He turned to her, drawing himself up. “I am delighted to say I have not, and I pity the vampire who has incurred your wrath.”

“Damn right,” Cally said, though she suspected Gabe was teasing her. “You all have territories, right? Whose territory is Milton?”

Gabe cocked his head, watching her with amusement. “Why do I get the sense that if you were to discover, you’d be driving straight back over there?”

Cally tightened her jaw. “Not right now.” Maybe tomorrow morning, when it’s nice and bright.

Gabe spread his hands. “Forgive me, I hate to be a poor host, but such information you will need to seek from Antoine.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic, and had no obligation to answer her. She gestured toward the wall of records, trying to change the subject. “Is your whole collection classical?”

“Oh no,” he said, coming over to retrieve his phone from her. “I like to think I have a little of everything. Do you like Chopin?”

Oh. Chopin, not Mozart. “Can’t say I’ve listened to it much, but this is fine.”

“Good.” He tightened the sash of his silk robe. “Well, we’ve got some time to kill. Let’s get you sorted first. ”

Cally tensed. His tone was light, but the double meaning made her uneasy.

Gabe stopped in surprise and held up his hands. “So sorry. I don’t entertain marked chattel very often. Terrible choice of words, wasn’t it?”

Cally grimaced. “As Antoine would say, why am I not surprised?”

“Nevertheless, I see you’ve been injured.” He gestured to her shoulder. “And please forgive another terribly inappropriate admission, but I can smell that you’re bleeding.”

Cally stepped back reflexively—like it would make any difference. “Do you need to feed?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Shall I stand in the corner until you feel safer?”

She stared at him, startled, then her cheeks flushed. “Um, sorry. It’s just…”

“—That you’ve been exposed to vampires, and some of us can be rather uncouth.”

She blinked. “Antoine isn’t like that.”

He grinned. “No. Our boy Antoine most certainly isn’t. But you’ve met Minh, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Oh, him . Yeah, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t listen to Chopin.”

Gabe’s grin widened. He gestured toward the sofas. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? We’ve a few hours until it will be conducive for Antoine to travel. Can I offer you food? A drink?” He looked pointedly at the shoulder of her hoodie. “Perhaps a change of clothes?”

Her stomach rumbled as she made her way to the nearest sofa. “You have food? I didn’t think vampires ate anything.”

“Not a morsel,” he replied, settling at the other end of the sofa.

“But my thralls inform me there’s a deli five minutes away.

Burger and chips? Caviar and champagne?” He paused.

“Apparently, their recommendation is a turkey and ham sandwich with lettuce and honey mustard. Does that sound good? I can procure caviar if you prefer.”

Cally relaxed despite herself. “You’re not French, are you?”

“ Moi ?” He laid a hand dramatically over his chest. “Madam, I am offended you cannot detect it from my accent. I’m Spanish.”

“Really?” He didn’t sound Spanish at all.

“Well, I was once,” he mused. “But it has been so long, the language has nearly slipped away from me. No, I’m from Virginia.”

That made much more sense. “Some food would be welcome if it’s not too much trouble. But I’m vegetarian.”

“No problem!” Another pause and a distant look. “Well, my thralls have no recommendations for that, but they’ll get the best they can.”

“That’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“Not at all,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “And to drink? You strike me as a coffee girl, but perhaps I’m mistaken.”

“Latte, please.” She leaned back into the sofa. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?” He scratched his chin. “I do have a black cape in my wardrobe with a very high collar. Should I put it on for you?”

Cally laughed, surprising herself. “No, it’s fine, but thank you.”

He nodded, eyes twinkling. “Now that the food is on its way, what about the rest of you?”

“I don’t want to be a bother. Some food will be fine, and I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “First, my Southern hospitality would be offended. Second, normally I’d be resting at this hour, but your presence is a breath of fresh air I cannot ignore.

” He sobered, his voice deeper. “And third, I promised Antoine I’d take care of you.

What would he think if I returned you still injured and covered in blood? ”

Cally shifted uncomfortably. “It’s a shoulder wound, and it’s mostly healed already.

” Which was unbelievable. She pulled back the cut edges of her hoodie to inspect the wound.

It was only a deep gash where two bullet holes had been.

It still hurt, but nothing like it had. How long had it been? An hour?

“And your thigh,” he said. “Forgive my forwardness, but you’re bleeding there as well.”

She’d almost forgotten she’d stabbed herself with Zoey’s knife. The blade was still in her pocket, folded neatly away. “It’s a newer wound but very minor.” If she could heal bullet holes so swiftly, a little cut was hardly worth worrying about.

“I can smell the metal. Are the bullets not out?”

Cally winced. “One is. The other… we got interrupted.”

“Hmm,” he mused, brow furrowing. “That’ll need to come out, I’m afraid. Otherwise, the body will reject it. It’ll ache for weeks instead of healing properly.” He sounded like he spoke from experience. “I can take care of it for you, if you wish?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “I suppose it was inevitable.”

“It’ll mean cutting those away,” he said, gesturing at her shoulder, “so we may as well get you some new clothes as well.”

She gave him a pointed look. “You mean to tell me you keep women’s clothes in your bachelor pad, Mr. Vampire?”

“That’s a rather personal question,” he said playfully. “But no, I was suggesting the thralls could go shopping, too. That way, I can learn your measurements.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Are all vampires this smooth when they want to be?”

“Heavens, no. You’ve met Antoine, after all. Though I can’t deny he’s charming in his own way.”

That wasn’t entirely fair. Antoine was smooth. She’d seen him be polite, kind and playful—not unlike Gabe, at least when he wasn’t making light of things—and while it was true he occasionally seemed awkward, she liked that about him. Smooth without trying. While Gabe? He was trying.

She shook her head. “I expected you all to be more like Minh.”

“In truth, most of us are. It so happens I never saw myself in that light, and our boy Antoine… well, he struggles along in his own way.”

“You keep calling him ‘our boy.’”

A flash of something fond passed across Gabe’s face. “Isn’t he?”

But there was a flicker of something else in his gaze, something briefly self-conscious, before it vanished just as quickly. It made Cally wonder. “Do vampires have friends?”

“Officially, we’re allies.” He grew more contemplative. “Unofficially, this is a good time for vampires to have friends.”

“Because of the Curia?”

He inclined his head. “You’re well informed.”

She hesitated, unsure whether to tell him, but figured there was no harm. “I spent much of last night with Belle.”

“Did you now? And what was that like?”

“It was… interesting.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Interesting enough for you to be on a first-name basis with one of the most powerful vampires on US soil?”

Cally blinked. “Is she really so powerful?”

Gabe shrugged. “It’s simple numbers. A vampire gains power as they age, and most of the truly ancient ones remain in Europe. To them, America’s still just a collection of colonies. Back home, Lady d’Aubigny may sit on the Curia, but she’s far from the top dog. Which is probably why they sent her.”

Cally thought she was here because Antoine was, but kept it to herself. Besides, Gabe could be right, and she could be wrong.

His eyes crinkled playfully. “I’m still going to need your measurements—unless you want to meet Antoine smelling of dried blood.”

She made a face. “Not a good idea. He wouldn’t take it well.” She gave him sizes for a new pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie, waiting as he relayed the information to his thralls.

“The clothes will not be long, but the food is already here,” he said, rising. As he reached the door, it opened, and a thrall she hadn’t seen before handed him a brown paper bag and a to-go cup.

While she ate, he entertained her with stories of nineteenth-century Virginia, making her laugh so hard she had to cover her mouth.

When she was done, he asked her about her past, particularly her interest in taekwondo.

At his prompting, she’d just begun explaining how she met Antoine when he interrupted her.

“Apologies,” he said with mock seriousness. “Deliveries.” A second later, there was a knock on the door.

Again, he got up to answer, and this time two thralls came in, carrying more shopping bags than Cally had ever seen in one go.

“I said a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie,” she said as soon as the thralls left, staring at the bags piled in the middle of the rug. “Did you have them buy the store?”

Gabe laughed. “I can’t remember the last time I got to play host like this. Let me have my fun. You can complain later to Antoine.” He held up another bag, this one smaller and made of thin white plastic.

“What’s in there?”

“Lidocaine, scalpel, forceps, needle and thread, cotton wool, gauze, analgesia.”

“They got all that from Macy’s too?”

“My thralls get injured from time to time.”

“Lidocaine? Not over-the-counter stuff, is it?”

“No,” he said. “It’s an injectable local anesthetic. I expect Antoine would just cut you open and apologize in French—very convincingly, too—but I thought you might prefer not to feel it.”

Cally couldn’t argue. “All right, Doctor. Where do you want me?”

“Best option would be to lie down on the sofa, I think.”

She looked skeptical. “It’s cream leather.”

“Good point, and how thoughtful. Let me grab a towel. Can you take your hoodie off by yourself?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

It hurt more than she expected, and Gabe was back by the time she’d worked it off her shoulder, a pile of large, fluffy dark green towels in his hands. He draped one across the sofa with a flick of his wrist, then pulled a syringe and a small bottle from the white bag.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” she said as she lay down. Zoey had cut through her T-shirt too, and it hung loose around her shoulder.

“Once or twice,” he said lightly, then frowned at her T-shirt. “I forgot scissors,” he said. There was a flash of movement and a light breeze, and he was back a heartbeat later, holding a sturdy pair of kitchen shears.

“You shouldn’t run with scissors.” She couldn’t help herself.

“I walked, but very quickly.”

“I do envy that ability,” she said, as he knelt on the rug beside her and began snipping her T-shirt away from her shoulder.

“In truth, the ability I appreciate most is my sense of smell,” he said, focused on his task. His hands were warm and gentle. “It’s almost like tasting things—both a boon and a curse, of course—but to perceive the world through the medium of scent? It never gets old.”

He was more open and talkative than Antoine, which made her want to ask a hundred questions. But she waited as he carefully filled the syringe, leaning over her once more.

“Little prick,” he said teasingly.

“Where did you learn to doctor?”

“Thralls, mostly,” he said. “Occasionally, my patient has been me. I’ve always enjoyed it. Another time, another life, maybe I’d have been a physician.”

“What do you do with your time?”

“I used to run a business or three. These days, they run themselves. I dabble in the stock markets mostly.”

Cally couldn’t help it. “Is this where you tell me about your portfolio?”

He laughed. “I could, but with the sun so bright, I fear I’d put myself to sleep before you.” He nodded toward her shoulder. “That will take a few minutes to work. I’ll fetch a basin.”

“We should’ve done this in the bathroom.”

“Not so comfortable, though.” He walked off, his voice trailing behind him.

Cally stared at the white ceiling while she waited, Chopin playing softly in the background. Gabe was right; the sofa was comfortable. Her shoulder was already feeling numb, but the rest of her wasn’t. She was still buzzing with the adrenaline of the day.

Watching the doctor die before her—and he’d be alive if she hadn’t gone to see him .

Noah and Zoey, limp and broken in the car.

Boots on the asphalt, walking across shattered glass toward her.

The gray SUV, its front end crumpled, spinning away after she’d shot the driver.

Her chest tightened. Her breath caught as the weight of events pressed in. Lying on another vampire’s sofa, her clothing cut open, a bullet in her shoulder.

But it was the truth about her mother’s death that truly broke her. She’d guessed in the end—but to have it confirmed? To know, now, exactly how she’d died…

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and then another, faster, unbidden. Gabe’s kindness hadn’t made It better. She wouldn’t be crying if she didn’t feel safe, which was one of the strangest thoughts of all.

Gabe wouldn’t appreciate the weakness of a chattel.

Cally’s throat tightened. She pulled another towel from the stack beside her, pressing it to her face to muffle her sobs. Her shoulders shook, and she didn’t hear him when he walked back in.