“Yes, yes. Thank you.” She blushed.
“Let me get this for you.” Viktor took the keys from her hand and opened her door. With ease, he lifted her cart full of groceries and set it into the foyer of her apartment. “There we go. Right as rain.”
“If I say no, will you carry me across the threshold and be mine forever?”
“Forever is a long time, beautiful. Be careful what you wish for.”
As she waddled inside and closed the door, Viktor smiled, his thoughts drifting to his California girl. Waverly, Waverly. I do think it’s time we had a proper introduction.
2
Waverly paddled and ducked under a wave, the icy water rolling over her body. She sucked a breath as she rose to the surface. Her thoughts churned, replaying what had happened in Miami. She’d gone to find her friend, Teagan, who’d gone missing.
Months earlier Teagan had called Waverly and told her she’d begun dating someone. She’d met him in a gothic-themed coffee shop while sitting on a coffin bench and sipping a Drac-chai latte, and had instantly connected with the darkness he offered. He’d been involved with a ‘brotherhood’, a group who professed the virtues of drinking human blood. He’d not only promised her eternal life, but the excitement Teagan craved.
Waverly had warned her to stay away from vampires, real or otherwise, so when she’d received the cryptic text, she’d immediately booked a flight. I’ve found eternal life. Don’t look for me.
When Waverly arrived in Miami, she’d found her friend’s apartment ransacked. With no clues to Teagan’s whereabouts, she’d decided to look for her in the one place she swore she’d never go, the blood club that Teagan mentioned in her texts. But not only had Waverly not found Teagan, she’d managed to get in an altercation with a monster who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Though she’d been acutely aware of the dangers that lingered within seedy blood clubs, she hadn’t anticipated the valiant stranger who’d intervened, saving her from her attacker.
Otherworldly and strikingly handsome, he’d commanded her attention. Fascinated with the beautiful predator, she’d struggled to remain calm, but soon lost herself within his piercing blue eyes. Terrifying yet intoxicating, the hum of his infinite power danced through her palms. She’d kept silent as the vision struck, shocked that the stranger could break her reign over her visions. For ten years she’d successfully controlled her affliction, but at his touch, they’d come rushing back.
When he’d screamed at her to leave, for a split second the sense of impending doom washed over her like a wave. Her hands stung with the magick she had fought so many years to suppress. As she slid into the cheap rental car, the chilling vision swallowed her, a tunnel of blood closing in on her.
Although shaken by the violence she’d witnessed, she managed to make her way to her hotel, safely fleeing danger. Fearing the worst, she’d contacted the police and filed a missing person’s report with the Miami PD. With no leads and pressing work projects waiting for her on the West Coast, she’d reluctantly hopped the next flight to San Diego.
The strong pull of the undertow shook her contemplation, a huge swell rolling toward her. She paddled hard as the wave drove forward. Heart pounding, she jumped up onto her feet, adjusting her stance until she stood solid on her board. Exhilaration rushed through her as the wave curled around her. She shot through its perfect tunnel, her mind focused solely on the moment.
“Hell, yeah.” She smiled, her slick ride slowly easing through the surf. She gave a few last pumps to the board, edging it forward.
Screaming from the beach caught her attention. Two young girls laughed as they jumped back from the icy water. But it was a shadow near the bungalow that caused her stomach to drop. A beam of sunlight shone upon the vaguely familiar silhouette, illuminating the hard lines of his jaw.
What is he doing here? Waverley lost her balance as panic struck, sending her tumbling into the churning sea. As she broke the surface, air rushed from her lungs. She frantically treaded water, panting for breath. Waverly scanned the beach for the vampire. Where is he?
“Oh my God. What is he doing in California? This cannot be happening.” Waverly reached for her board and slid on top of it. “Shit.”
Waverly took off, paddling hard toward the shore. As she reached the edge of the surf, she slid off the board, her feet touching the sand, and slung it under her arm. Saltwater burned her eyes, her legs shaking as she left the ocean and reached the shoreline. With intense determination, she trekked toward the cliff. Aside from a few groups of teenagers, the sandy stretch was empty.
Oh my God. Is he stalking me? Where did he go? He can’t be here. No, no, no. Waverly spun around, confused. Fear and excitement churned in her gut.
There was no way he could have climbed up the cliffs without her seeing him. She turned to the ocean, scanning the horizon. To her right two college girls stood ankle deep in the surf. Engaged in a conversation, they paused and looked over their shoulder at her. Her friends, Barry and Kyle, waiting on a wave, bobbed in the water to her left.
Waverly took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She released her board onto the sand and sat, her arms leaning on her knees as her head lolled forward.
“What the hell just happened?” Waverly wiped her eyes dry and looked to the horizon.
Get it together. You’re just seeing things. It’s impossible. There’s no way he knows where you live. “It’s just the stress. It’s going to be okay.”
She took a deep breath. Her pulse slowed as the bright orange sun descended. It was as if all the world paused to give a nod to the sunset. Surfers floated in the water on their boards. Runners stopped running. Cars pulled over to the side of the highway. Conversations fell to whispers. As the sun touched the horizon, the ocean enveloped the bright ball of light, signaling the end of another day. Waverly sighed, a chill running through her, a cool breeze blowing in from the ocean.
“There’s no way he is in California,” she said out loud. Waverly shoved to her feet and brushed the sand off her hands.
Logic told her he was in Miami. There was no way he could find her. She hadn’t told him her name, and on the off chance he’d asked the maître d’, she hadn’t left her last name. You’re just being paranoid. Calm the fuck down, Waverly.
Convinced her mind was playing tricks on her, she picked up her surfboard and headed toward the stairs on the cliff. “He doesn’t know who I am. I’m just seeing things.”
Waverly smiled as she looked down into the museum’s atrium from the top of the wide marble staircase. A sea of benefactors milled about the lower level, mingling among San Diego’s most prominent citizens. Later in the evening, supporters of the museum would outbid each other in an attempt to win donated prizes. More donors meant more bids. More bids meant more money for the prestigious art museum which would produce unique, celebrated exhibits and provide more funding for community outreach, bringing art directly to the world.
“Dr. LaFleur. Dr. LaFleur,” a voice called out to her. The sound of heels tapping on the floor grew louder.
“Please, Sheila, call me Lee,” Waverly insisted as Sheila Hertz, the museum’s new event planner, hurried toward her.