“Ah, yes. Long story.”
“Why did you ask him here?” Her mind swam with questions.
“To help with the painting. He’s an expert of sorts. Once upon a time, he knew the nun’s family. He most likely can verify its authenticity. Maybe give us insight as to why this thing is after you.”
Viktor stood and crossed the room. He swung open the doors to a large black armoire and retrieved a pair of gray sweatpants, dressing as he continued. “He knows about the works that the church commissioned. Spent time at the Vatican as well.”
“You don’t look alike.” The domineering vampire’s dark curly hair was a stark contrast to Viktor’s sleek blond mane.
“We weren’t born to the same human mother, but we were sired by the same master. And we’ve spent hundreds of years together. We have saved each other more than once.”
Waverly gave him a sympathetic smile. She’d seen the visions, the beatings. She couldn’t take away his pain, only attempt to understand. I’m sorry this happened to you.
“No worries,” he replied although she’d spoken no words.
“Sorry, what?” Waverly shot him a look of surprise. Did he hear me?
“I’ve survived all these years. It’s going to be all right.” Viktor moved toward her, reaching for her hand and pulling her to her feet. “I’ll be downstairs. You can join us if you’d like. Don’t rush. I have a few things to straighten out with him.”
Waverly gave a closed smile as he brushed a kiss to her forehead. With her arms wrapped around him, safely in his embrace, she knew their time was fleeting.
7
Viktor steeled himself as he strode into the kitchen, avoiding the conversation that was hundreds of years overdue. Determined not to take the bait, he’d focus on the current issue at hand.
“Jesus, Vik. Don’t you ever eat normal food?” Greyson commented, his back to Viktor as he rummaged through his refrigerator.
“You’re a vampire. Blood is normal food,” Viktor replied.
“Blah. There’s nothing better than homemade Sarmale and Țuică.” He slapped his hand on the outside of the appliance.
“We need to talk,” Viktor began. His brother would test his last nerve, but he needed his help.
“What’s with the lass? She must be a hellion in bed if you’ve brought her to your home.” Greyson looked over his shoulder and shot him a devious smile. “Oh yeah. You got a live one in there.”
Viktor took a deep breath, deliberately delaying his response. He tamped down his anger, refusing to allow his brother to draw him into a fight.
“With the way she was moaning, I’m surprised you hadn’t bit her already. I’d tap that—"
“Waverly. Dr. Waverly LaFleur is her name. She’s an art curator in San Diego.” Viktor dragged his fingers through his messed hair.
“So, you’re shagging her but not biting her? Interesting.” Greyson threw a block of cheese onto the counter and began opening kitchen drawers.
“None of your business. On the counter next to the stove.” Viktor sat at the kitchen bar staring at his brother. No worse for wear than he’d seen him years ago, he hadn’t aged a minute. Save for the modern clothes he appeared the same as he had the last day they’d spoken.
“Thanks.” Greyson withdrew a large chef’s knife and waved it in the air.
“I need your help. We,” Viktor corrected, “need your help.”
“Quintus said as much,” he grumbled. “All this time has gone by, and you call me when you need me.”
“You spent time with the nuns. There’s a piece here that appears authentic, but I’d like you to look at it for me. It’s been altered.”
“Why should I help you?’ He shook his head and landed a swift blow to the cheese, cleaving it in half.
“I give you my word that once Waverly is safe, we’ll have it out. I know we have our differences. But I need your full attention on this. Someone shot her at the museum. They’ve left a Satanic shit stain in her apartment. Demons may be involved but there’s also a human element driving this. I don’t know if it’s a coordinated effort or not. This painting. Someone arranged for her to get it without providing ownership documentation. I want to know everything about the piece. Where it came from. Who could have had access to it? Why would they seek out Waverly? Why did they want her to have it?”
Viktor heard her before she walked into the room. His pulse raced at the sight of her standing in the kitchen in his robe. The fabric brushed her feet as she glided toward him.
“Waverly.” Viktor smiled as he took her hand, bringing her protectively to his side. “I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Greyson.”
“Dragavei. Greyson Dragavei.” The imposing vampire extended his hand toward Waverly. “What a pleasure to meet you.”
Viktor glared at his brother, cold as ice. As Waverly responded to shake his hand, Greyson captured it, kissing the back of it briefly. Viktor dropped his fangs, and Waverly jumped backward, tugging her hand away.
“Possessive of a human, my dear brother?” Greyson laughed and returned to slicing the cheese. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d bonded.”
Viktor retracted his fangs, the words hitting him like a stake in the heart. Bonded? In truth it wasn’t as if the thought had not crossed his mind. From the second he met her, he’d gone out of his way to help her, to find her, protect her. Making love to her, he’d become obsessed with Dr. LaFleur, the craving to taste her lingering in the back of his mind at all moments. Had Greyson not interrupted, he’d have bitten her.
“Cat got your tongue?” Greyson laughed and shoved a piece of cheese in his mouth. “So, I guess you won’t be sharing your human with me?”
“Let’s get something straight. You touch her, I’ll kill you. We’re brothers but I won’t tolerate your disrespect,” Viktor bit out.
“Settle down. Despite what you did to me, I won’t ruin your fun.” Greyson turned to address Waverly. “Cheese?”
“No thank you,” she responded.
“We need your help. The painting is—” Viktor began.
“It was given to me to evaluate. Someone first contacted me while I was in Miami,” Waverly interjected, her voice calm but strong. “I’d gone there to look for a friend. She’d told me she was involved with a vampire group, and I was worried about her. I went to a blood club to look for her and well, I got into a bit of trouble. Your brother helped me and—”
“You met my brother at a blood club? How romantic.” Greyson rolled his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Enough.” Viktor pinned him with a glare.
“Before I’d left San Diego,” Waverly continued, ignoring Greyson. “Teagan texted me about the club. Told me she was going there. But I’m not like that…I don’t want to be bitten.” Viktor’s eyes met hers as the lie rolled off her tongue.
“Hmm.” Greyson shrugged. “I’m not one to judge but you’re looking pretty cozy with my bro.”