Page 14 of Vampires and Violas (A Vampire’s Guide to Gardening #2)

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Larissa opens the back door of her car, gesturing for us to get in.

But that’s one of the first things you learn as a kid—don’t get in a car with strangers. And Noah isn’t having it.

“We’ll follow you,” he says.

The elegant vampire looks like she wants to roll her eyes, but she shuts the door with a curt nod.

As soon as we’re following her out of the drive, Noah calls Cassian. When the vampire answers, he says, “Piper and I are going with Larissa to meet her boss.”

“Piper’s with you?” Cassian asks through the vehicle’s speakers, startled.

“Larissa said someone’s been watching the house. I didn’t know how far away you were, and I wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone.”

“I’m home. I didn’t have business in Glenwood today.”

“Piper will send you an invitation to join our circle so you can track us. As soon as we stop, call Daniel and give him our location.”

I do as Noah instructs, pulling up the family location app so I can add Cassian to our circle.

“I just got the notification,” Cassian tells us. “Are you armed?”

“Yeah, but they might search me when we get there.”

“You know there’s a good chance you’re walking into a trap,” Cassian points out.

“That’s why I’m calling you. I need to go. You downloaded the app and all that?”

“I’m working on it,” Cassian says. “I’ll text Piper when I’m finished.”

They end the call, and then Noah hits another speed dial in his phone. “Daniel,” he says, “Hey, I know it’s late…”

He explains the situation to his friend at NIHA, requesting hunters to be put on standby. The whole thing feels big and official. Maybe I should have stayed home, locked my doors, and hoped for the best.

“Cassian just texted,” I tell Noah when he ends his call. “He’s in our circle, and everything appears to be working correctly. I can see his location, and he says he can see ours.”

“Tell him to text you every fifteen minutes after we stop. If you don’t answer, he needs to tell Daniel to send people in right away.”

“So, you know those action movies?” I say. “With the spies and the guns and the intercom things? I don’t really watch those, and I’m not sure I’m qualified for this.”

Noah flashes me a wry smile. “You said you wanted to come.”

“I mean, I didn’t want you to go alone. But what’s the chance I’m going to wake up tomorrow as a second-stage pre-vamp?”

“Larissa’s boss, whoever they might be, isn’t in the business of giving handouts. I highly doubt they’re going to bite you.”

“Right.” I’m reminded of something Ethan said that was very similar, and I frown at the red taillights ahead of us. “We’re headed toward Aspen.”

And closer to Cassian, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

It’s past midnight when Larissa pulls into a large, old hotel at the edge of town. Landscape lights shine on the building, showing off its Victorian architecture and red roof.

“I’ve been here before,” I tell Noah. “It was on Mother’s Day a few years ago, for afternoon tea. It was ridiculously expensive.”

“It looks ridiculously expensive.” Noah follows Larissa to the parking area. “Grab my phone. Ask Daniel to do a quick search on the address.”

He gives me his passcode, and I find Daniel in his contacts. Noah is parking when a text comes through on his phone.

“Go ahead and read it,” he says.

“Daniel says this place belongs to Alfred Staulington. Does that mean anything to you?”

Noah frowns, looking thoughtful. “Alfred is a son of the Staulington line—a wealthy branch of British vampires that came to America in the early 1800s. He’s a playboy and a cad, and he buys up hotels like he’s playing a board game. Though he has unsavory acquaintances, and we know he’s providing safe havens for unregistered vampires on his properties, we’ve never been able to pin him with anything illegal.”

“A son? Like…an actual son?”

“Yes. His father is Jameson Staulington, the head of the line. He was changed not long after his son was born. He and his wife waited until Alfred reached adulthood, and then they infected him.”

“Are there many true families at the head of the houses?” I ask.

“No.”

“Did they pay to be infected?”

“I believe so, but there wouldn’t have been laws against it at that time.”

“How did vampires function before the prescription blood was created?”

“Before laws were made against it, many well-off families had donors in their employ.”

My stomach crawls. “You mean people ?”

Noah opens his door. “It was a dark era.”

I shudder as I follow him out of the SUV. He pauses next to the vehicle, looking at his phone.

“What is it?” I ask, not liking the dark scowl on his face.

“Daniel texted again. Apparently, Alfred bought the hotel from Brennan Properties two years ago.”

“But that’s…”

Noah meets my eyes. “Ethan.”

“Is this safe?” I whisper. “Should we go?”

Noah looks torn. The answers he’s been searching for might be just inside the building. But like Cassian said, it could be a trap.

“Cassian knows our location, and Daniel has men on standby,” he finally says.

That doesn’t specifically answer my question, but I nod, and he continues toward the entrance.

Larissa meets us outside the doors and then leads the way inside without a word, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

Despite the hour, the foyer is brightly lit and filled with patrons. They sit on the furniture and at small tea tables, chatting. They’re all wearing business attire, much like Larissa.

Noah and I look out of place, him in his leather jacket and me in my jean shorts. But it doesn’t seem to bother him.

People pause to watch us cross the space and then return to their conversations, their noses tilted slightly higher into the air.

“I think our attire is offensive,” I joke quietly so Larissa won’t overhear.

“They’ll get over it.”

“Are all these people vampires?” I whisper, my senses prickling.

“If Alfred owns the place, then probably a good portion of them,” Noah answers.

Larissa leads us up the grand staircase at the back of the room, down a hall, and then to an elevator. She presses the button for the fourth, and highest, floor. I’m secretly hoping we’re going up to a penthouse because I’ve only seen them in movies.

To my delight, the elevator opens to a small antechamber with a single door. Larissa produces a key and lets us in.

“After you,” she says, gesturing us forward.

I half expect her to slam the door with an evil cackle, but she closes it softly and follows us into what looks like a sprawling 19th-century parlor.

There’s a fireplace and Persian rugs, along with wingback chairs, couches that are probably called something fussy, like settees, a baby grand piano, and several stately parlor palms.

All that’s missing is a long-haired cat with a snowy white coat and a butler named Winston.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Larissa says. “Sophia will be out in a moment.”

Sophia.

I jerk my eyes to Noah and realize he recognizes the name as well. We’ve done it—we’ve found Cassian’s crazy ex-girlfriend.

Or rather…she found us.

I sit beside Noah on the couch, eyeing a man dressed in a black suit when he appears from a hall. He wears white gloves and a dour expression, and he can be nothing but…a butler.

I hope his name is Winston. I really do.

“Good evening, Mr. York, Miss Edwards,” he says with a gracious dip of his head. “May I offer you refreshment? Coffee? Tea? Broth?” He pauses. “Blood?”

I’ve been taking my prescription regularly for about a month now, and that still freaks me out.

“No, thank you,” Noah says, and I shake my head as well.

“If you change your mind, please let me know.”

He then takes his place on the side wall, crosses his hands behind his back, and stares straight ahead.

I glance at Noah, unsure what to think of all this, but he’s the picture of ease. Maybe it’s practiced—or perhaps he’s used to these fussy vampire gatherings.

I think back to Ethan, realizing all those people in his restaurant were likely vampires as well.

A text drags me out of my memories.

Cassian: You good?

Piper: Fine so far. But I think we’ve found your ex-girlfriend.

Three little dots come up as Cassian starts typing, but a door opens, distracting me, and Larissa and another woman appear.

Sophia is nothing like I expected. Larissa looks like a Parisian villain.

Sophia looks like Little Miss Muffet.

She’s petite and lovely, with shoulder-length golden curls and the sweetest face you’ve seen outside of Mother Goose stories. She wears a light pink chiffon dress and pearls, with blush-colored high heels.

Her eyes sweep over us, catching on Noah. Her smile falters momentarily, but then she extends her hands in greeting. “Hello and welcome. I’m Sophia Barrington. I’m so pleased you could make it.”

I glance at Noah to gauge his reaction and have to swallow a laugh. He looks both confused and incredulous, but to his credit, he’s trying to school his surprise.

She turns toward the butler. “Richard, did you offer our guests refreshments?”

Richard, not Winston. Bummer.

“I did, Miss Barrington.”

“Very good.” She beams at him. “You may go now. I’ll call if we need you.”

He gives her a silent bow, gives us a silent bow, and then finally leaves the room.

“That’s Richard.” Sophia motions for us to join her in the seating area and chooses one of the wingback chairs. “He’s working off his set—already to stage two. He’s actually quite lively, but he’s having such fun with the solemn butler persona he’s adopted. I’m going to surprise him with his third dose tomorrow because I’m afraid I just had a concerning chat with his doctor—a lovely woman who moved her practice to Mexico a few years ago. Her name is Dr. Albright. Do you know her?”

I try to keep up as Sophia tells us more about the doctor. By the time she’s done, I know the woman’s age, background, and favorite type of blood. (Organic, farm-raised elk.)

Sophia, it appears, is a bit like a hummingbird. She talks fast, and her hands flutter quickly. We couldn’t respond if we wanted to.

Her face falls as she returns to Richard. “His cancer is spreading. He has few symptoms thanks to the Vampiria B that’s already in his system, but Dr. Albright doesn’t think his body will hold out much longer.”

Noah is silent, so I nod. “That’s awful.”

“Isn’t it? Do you want tea?” Sophia frowns. “This feels like a conversation for it.” She flashes Larissa a sorrowful look. “But I really hate to ask too much of Richard right now.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Larissa offers, picking up on Sophia’s subtle signal. “What would you like?”

“Earl Grey, I think,” Sophia answers, then she looks back at us. “Do you like Earl Grey?”

Noah shakes his head, looking baffled—probably because our hostess just flippantly admitted, without qualm or question, that she’s been spreading the virus—and to the local chief of investigations no less.

“No, you don’t like it? Or no, you’ve never had it?” Sophia smiles warmly, and it hits me there’s a good dose of southern accent in her tone. It’s strong, hinting at time spent in Alabama or Georgia.

“I’ve never had it,” Noah answers.

“Oh, it’s my favorite.” She pauses again, briefly. “You can drink tea, can’t you? I knew a vampire who couldn’t stomach it…”

Sophia looks like she’s holding her breath, watching us with her big, blue, hopeful eyes.

“I think we might know him as well,” Noah says carefully, taking her obvious bait.

“Yes.” She suppresses a smile, and her eyes flutter to her hands. “How is Cassian?”

“Sophia,” Larissa reminds her employer. “The tea ?”

“Oh right, yes. Earl grey, four cups—you’ll join us, won’t you, Larissa? Of course you will. Be sure to bring milk and half and half—I’m not sure what our guests prefer.”

Personally, I prefer my tea to be coffee unless it’s iced, but to each their own, I suppose. It sounds like it will at least taste better than the dusty old tea bag Officer Kerrington gave me at the police station.

“Of course,” Larissa says. And with the clack, click, clack of her stilettos, she leaves the room.

Sophia turns her attention back to us. “What were we talking about?”

What weren’t we talking about?

“You were about to tell us why you wanted to meet,” Noah says, his voice edging on curt.

Sophia is either oblivious to his tone or simply doesn’t care, because it doesn’t faze her. “Ah, of course. Well, let’s cut to the chase then. As I said before, I’m Sophia Barrington. And you are Montgomery and Piper, is that right?”

My phone vibrates in my lap, alerting me I have another text. I read it and become very nervous.

“Is something the matter?” Sophia asks, her eyes watching me a little too closely. Before I can answer, the phone on the desk rings, startling our hostess. “That’s odd,” she says. “It must be the front desk?”

She then looks at us in question, like we would know.

“Usually,” Noah says.

“They’ve never called before.”

The moment she rises to answer it, I quickly whisper to Noah, “Cassian’s here.”

“What?”

“I made the mistake of telling him we found Sophia, and apparently, well. He’s here. ”

“What did you say his name was?” Sophia says into the antiquated handset, sounding breathless. “Well…yes. Send him up.”

She hangs up the phone slowly. “Did you invite Cassian to join us?”

I squeeze my phone in my hands. “I…I only told him you were here.”

She exhales slowly, her hand moving to her perfect curls, looking frantic. “How do I look?”

“Uh…”

Before I can form an answer, there’s a knock at the door, making me think Cassian must have been headed up before Sophia gave the okay.

I hope he didn’t kill anyone on his way.

“Will one of you…” Sophia frantically gestures to the door and then hurries to the piano, placing herself next to it like someone is about to take a photo.

“Is this good?” she stage-whispers to me.

“Yes?”

“And my hair?”

“It looks nice…”

“Okay.” She flashes me a wide, nervous smile and then looks at Noah. “Open the door.”

Noah barely turns the doorknob when Cassian barges in. His eyes lock with the petite vampire woman’s, and the air practically crackles between them.

“Hello, Cassian,” Sophia says nervously. “I…” She swallows when her voice quavers. “I didn’t know you were joining us. I had hoped when I invited Montgomery that I might…I mean, that we might eventually?—”

“Sophia.” Cassian says her name like it’s a death sentence and he’s the executioner.

He then pulls a stake from inside his jacket and crosses the room.