“They have no reason to,” Nick snapped. “She didn’t see any of the men.”
Oliver met her gaze. “Did you hear anything?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Just a couple of thuds. I think it was probably when Nick caught up with the man who jumped the fence. By the time I looked outside though, they were out of sight.”
Nodding, he watched his friend mop.
Nick didn’t look at them while he worked. Face grim, he just mopped, changed the liquid in the bucket, mopped, changed the liquid in the bucket, and mopped some more. He seemed determined to eradicate every tiny speck of blood or dirt left behind, as though he could erase the whole incident by doing so.
She glanced at Oliver. He shook his head.
Maybe this was just Nick’s way of dealing with it. Everyone had their own process they used to make sense of things. She went quiet. Nick apparently cleaned.
Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and watched his friend. “Do you think this could be related to the old man?”
Nick didn’t look up. “No.” If he kept it up, that floor would be clean enough to eat off.
Kayla returned her attention to Oliver. “What old man?”
“When you were in the hospital and Nick was with you, someone recognized him—an old man by the name of Richard Roubal who was a very young man when he met Nick a long time ago. Nick feigned ignorance. But later the old man showed up next door, wanting to know why Nick hadn’t aged.”
Nick didn’t age?
Of course he didn’t. He’d told her the peculiar symbiotic virus that infected him healed almost any damage, including that caused by aging. And someone from his past had recognized him.
Crap.
“I don’t see how this could be related,” Nick said. “Seth handled that. And he didn’t just bury Roubal’s memory of me from the hospital and when he showed up next door, he erased it so there would be no chance of him ever recovering it. He erased the driver’s memory, too.”
Oliver frowned. “I’d ask if you thought a vampire had followed you home, but vampires don’t work with humans. Not anymore anyway. Not since we defeated the mercenary outfits.”
Nick nudged the bucket farther into the kitchen, chasing her footprints with the mop. “And not since we eradicated Gershom’s influence.”
“Right.”
Outside, the sun crested the horizon. Golden morning light spilled through the windows.
Kayla covered her mouth to stifle a yawn as fatigue crept in now that the adrenaline rush had ended.
Oliver touched her arm. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? We’ll take care of the cleanup.”
She hesitated. But something in his eyes drove her to nod.
Sending Nick one last look, she turned and reluctantly headed up to bed.
Nick returned the mop and bucket to the laundry room. When the dryer beeped, he removed the clothing and towels he had washed. A quick inspection confirmed he had succeeded in removing the bloodstains. Centuries of experience and instruction from Seconds had left him a pro at such.
Even the bathmats appeared to be free of stains.
He headed into the living room and folded the laundry to give himself something to do. Kayla was upstairs sleeping. He wasn’t sure if he should join her because he’d been too chickenshit to ask when she retired.
His cell phone vibrated. When he checked the screen, he frowned. It was Becca. “Hello?”
“What happened?” she asked without preamble.
“What do you mean?” Kayla hadn’t called her daughter. He would’ve heard it.
“I had a dream,” she said. “I know most people think dreams are just random nonsense generated by the mind’s subconscious. But if you know how to interpret them, they mean something. And my dream told me you were in danger. It also reeked of conflict and took place in my mom’s bedroom. Bedrooms represent intimacy or personal life. And since it was my mom’s bedroom, I assume it has something to do with her. So what happened? She isn’t answering her phone.”
“She’s sleeping.”
“But she’s okay?”
“Yes.” Physically.
“I hear a but in your voice.”
Nick swore silently. Since Kayla was a gifted one, her daughter was, too. And he now suspected Becca’s gift was prophetic dreams. He sighed. Well, he couldn’t exactly loose all his secrets upon Becca, especially when he stood on such shaky ground with Kayla. But he had to tell her something. “I revealed something about myself that she didn’t know.”
“So?”
“So… it caught her off guard.” Blindsided her would be a more accurate description.
Tense silence carried over the line. “Are you married?”
He frowned. “Of course not.”
“Seeing someone else?”
“No. I would never betray a woman in such a way.”
“Good. I would’ve had to cut your balls off if you were. Fair warning: I’m not letting another man cheat on my mom and hurt her like that.”
“I love your mother, Becca.”
“My dad claimed he loved her, too.”
“Your dad was a dick.” Shit. He probably shouldn’t have said that. But the bastard had hurt Kayla, and Nick was tired, damn it.
She laughed. “Yeah. He was. Still is, unfortunately. That’s why I cut him out of my life.” She sighed. “So… what—do you have a dozen children stashed away somewhere?”
“No.”
“A dozen ex-wives?”
“No.”
“Half a dozen ex-wives?”
“I’ve never been married.”
“Are you wanted by the police?”
“No.”
“Are you into guys? I mean, are you bi and want to date men, too?”
“Hell no.” He had never been attracted to members of his own sex and wanted a wholly monogamous relationship with Kayla.
“Then what?” she asked with some exasperation. “Do you like to wear women’s underwear or something? Did she catch you stretching out her favorite panties?”
He laughed. “No! Stop guessing!”
“Well, you made it sound like you dropped a heck of a bombshell on her.”
“I did.”
“You won’t tell me what it is?”
“I can’t.” As protective as she was of her mother, he didn’t think Becca would respond well to the knowledge that her mom was dating a shape-shifting immortal who looked like a vampire and had literally brought violence to her mother’s doorstep.
“If you won’t tell me what you told her, will you tell me how she reacted?”
He slowly paced into the kitchen. “She cried,” he admitted softly.
“Shit.” Heavy silence fell. “What did you do, Nick? Did you betray her?”
“In a way. I withheld information about my profession. It’s… more dangerous than I led her to believe.”
“Are you a criminal?”
“I already told you I wasn’t.”
“No. You said you aren’t wanted by the police.”
“I’m not a criminal.”
Thoughtful silence carried across the line. “Are you CIA or something? Not that you could tell me if you were, so I guess there’s no point in asking that one.”