When Clare woke later that afternoon, her muscles had stiffened and her neck felt as though it had been put through a wringer.
She dressed for comfort in a burnt umber crushed silk dress with pretty beadwork on the bodice. She studied her reflection in the antique mirror in the bathroom. The dress color coordinated perfectly with her necklace of bruises. A few weeks ago, she'd have been horrified to be seen like this. Strange how a near-death experience rearranged one's priorities.
The bruising was too extensive to cover with makeup, so she ignored it. She added a brush of highlight to her cheeks and a touch of color to her lips, then made her way down the wide stone staircase to join the men on the terrace overlooking the garden.
As she approached, Pablo strode forward to greet her. He brushed his fingertips against her neck and clicked his tongue. "My poor Clare." Folding his arms around her, he held her gently. "How do you feel, mi amor?"
Clare accepted the embrace awkwardly, aware that Luka was only a few feet away, but unwilling to brush off Pablo's concern and hurt his feelings. She was slightly worried that he'd called her his love a few times now. It would be very awkward if he'd fallen for her when she had feelings for Luka.
Luka sat staring out over the garden. Why hadn't he greeted her? By now, he must have discussed the past few days with Pablo. Maybe he was angry with her, or disappointed. Then again, she might be imagining problems.
"Good evening," she said to him, and sat in the chair to his left as Pablo took the one on his right.
He glanced at her, but his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. "Salut. Do you feel better now?"
"Some." Was it her imagination, or was there a distance between them that hadn't been there before?
He studied her neck. "You have finger marks. Who did this to you?"
Clare briefly considered describing her strange encounter with Edward, but it didn't feel like the right moment to go into personal details. "Someone who works for Monique. He just seemed to go crazy."
"Pablo said this man wants you to send me to Taldom."
"Monique's waiting for you, so you definitely can't go back now."
Luka sipped his wine. "I don't know. Perhaps if I return, things will finally be settled."
Pablo grasped Luka's arm. "Walking back into the clutches of that woman is madness."
"Monique and I have unfinished business. Before I die, it should be laid to rest."
"Ay, ay, ay. Stop talking about dying or I'll strangle you myself. Let's stay here. This isn't such a bad life."
Clare braced herself to make things a whole lot worse. "Monique introduced me to one of your relatives, a Jaska Vlad?"
Luka's forehead creased above the sunglasses. "My cousin."
"This guy mentioned you owe a debt of honor."
Luka released a lingering breath. "I expected that."
"You might want to reconsider going back. He said the debt was death for death because you killed one of your brothers."
Luka's head jerked around. "That's a lie."
"I got the impression that Jaska was more interested in keeping Monique happy than the truth."
Luka removed his sunglasses and twirled them in his fingers. After a few minutes, he dragged in a breath and slid his glasses back in place. "What is Monique up to?"
"As far as I can make out, she plans to trade you for a supply of a red flower with youth-restoring properties so she can use it in Moray products. The flower extract certainly works. She's been using it herself. She looks hardly any older than me. It's creepy."
Pablo clicked his tongue. "Her skin looks young but on the inside she's putrid. Like an apple with a rotten core, she has a maggot in her heart."
Luka stared at his lap, apparently deep in thought. "Is this flower known as Red Death?"
"You know it?"
"This flower is rare and grows only on Vlad lands. It's too dangerous to be allowed into this world."
A little spurt of triumph made Clare smile. She had leverage to make him stay. "You definitely can't return, then. If she doesn't hand you over, your family won't give her the plants."
Something about Luka's expression troubled her. She wished she could see his eyes behind the sunglasses.
"Monique will always find a way to get what she wants," he said flatly.
"She'll try. But don't make it easy for her. Don't walk through that portal and hand yourself over to her."
"Listen, Luka," Pablo said, "the lady talks sense."
"I'll think about it, but right now I'm too tired." He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. In the unforgiving glare of the sun, the dark rings beneath his eyes looked as bad as her bruises.
Pablo went to him and crouched at his side. "We'll have a session tonight."
Luka raised a hand to silence him. "Not now, please."
"But I thought maybe Clare—"
"No!" Luka gave her a brief apologetic glance. "Will you give us a few moments alone?"
"No problem." Heat stung Clare's cheeks as she stood and strode away between the symmetrical flowerbeds. Luka seemed so awkward in her company. The rapport she'd had with him before she and Pablo went to Taldom might never have existed.
When she thought she'd gone far enough, she stopped and leaned against the trunk of a large walnut tree, sending a foraging red squirrel scampering away into the bushes.
She glanced back towards the terrace. Although she was about fifty yards away, the gentle breeze carried the sound of raised voices to her. Luka stood facing the château. Pablo was behind him with his arms extended in an exasperated gesture. After cutting his hand through the air, Luka stomped towards the front door as Pablo watched, hands on hips.
Pablo turned and scanned the garden, then jogged towards her.
Clare leaned her head back against the tree trunk. Part of her wanted to know what Luka had said, part of her didn't. It looked as though she would find out anyway. "Problems?" she asked as Pablo drew close.
Pablo slapped the heel of his hand against the tree trunk. "I love Luka, but sometimes he makes me mad. I wanted you to help me feed Luka tonight, but he says it has to be Lila."
"How do you know I'd have agreed? I don't even know how the feeding works."
The irritation on his face melted into a seductive smile. Stroking his fingers along her arm he whispered, "I wanted to make love to you…slowly. Once our pleasure peaked, I'd have passed the energy on to Luka. But he's proud and stubborn. He can't stand the thought of you seeing his vulnerability."
Clare opened her mouth and closed it again. She'd half expected the feeding process to be something sexual, but the fact that Pablo was so certain she'd agree to take part floored her.
Misunderstanding her reaction, Pablo went on. "Can you believe he used your bruises as an excuse? When I assured him I'd be gentle with you, he stormed off."
Pablo reached for her hand, obviously trying to console her, when all she felt was relief. Much as she wanted to help Luka, she would not do it this way.
***
Luka stood at his office window and watched Pablo and Clare under the walnut tree. Although every fiber of his being screamed to look away, he could not tear his gaze from them. Did she have feelings for Pablo? Perhaps they had grown close during their time together in Taldom. She had never really been his but he felt as though he had lost her.
He turned from the window and poured himself a glass of wine. The rich, fruity fragrance filled his nose, reminding him of the floral scent of Clare's hair. During their brief moment of parting in the dungeon, he'd memorized her fragrance and the fleeting touch of her hands. He'd thought he was leaving her forever. Instead, she'd left him behind and chased Pablo through the window to Taldom.
He walked across the room and dropped into a chair. In all the decades he'd known Pablo, his friend had never formed a strong attachment to anyone else, but the way Pablo spoke of Clare, of how she had stood up for him…
Pablo had served him faithfully for so long, it was unfair to expect him to give up this newfound relationship with Clare. It was time to release Pablo to enjoy a normal life—the life Luka dreamed of for himself.
Luka could not survive on Earth without Pablo, and honestly, he didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to be with Clare, but he couldn't even touch her. He was weary, so weary. He leaned his head in his hand.
It was time for him to return to the world of his birth, face his responsibilities, and put a stop to Monique's evil machinations.
***
Clare wandered out of her bathroom with a fluffy white towel wrapped around her wet hair. She cast an accusing look at the gold and red bed. The sensual ambience of her room seemed designed to taunt her. Unwanted thoughts of what Pablo and Luka were doing with Lila kept hijacking her mind.
Thanks to the ten hours' sleep she'd had earlier in the day, she didn't feel tired at all. She wandered across to the window and stared out into the darkness. The air was sweet with the fragrance of honeysuckle, while night insects buzzed, drawn to the dangling golden flowers.
Along the western boundary of the property, flashlights danced between the trees, where men patrolled the grounds. After her experience in Amsterdam, Luka had arranged for extra security at the château in case Edward decided to pay them a visit.
Clare plopped down on the edge of her bed and flicked open the book on supernatural beings she'd brought up from the library. While she had access to Luka's collection of arcane texts, she intended to learn as much as possible. The first task she'd set herself was to identify what Edward was.
Edward's lack of genitals seemed so extraordinary, she'd begun to doubt her memory. Maybe in her panic she'd kneed him in the wrong place, or he could have been wearing a sports cup.
She started to read, but thoughts of Luka and Pablo kept creeping into her mind. They had both been quiet at dinner. Luka hadn't looked at her once and even Pablo seemed subdued. When Lila served the food, Clare could have cut the silence with a knife.
As if she'd summoned Lila with her thoughts, a girlish giggle sounded in the corridor outside her room, followed by Pablo shushing. Clare stared hard at her book and read the same sentence for the fourth time.
Curiosity wormed its way inside her chest and wriggled around until she couldn't stand it. She slapped her book down and walked to the door. As she opened it a crack, she glimpsed Luka's back as he went into Pablo's room.
Unable to resist, she crept along the corridor on tiptoes and put her ear to Pablo's bedroom door. The silence drummed in her ears, then she heard the faint sound of a woman's voice.
Clare raced back to her room, fastened the door, and stared into space, trying to understand the turmoil inside her. She knew Luka couldn't touch the woman, but she didn't even want to think he was in the room with Pablo and Lila.
She'd put off arranging to leave, wanting to spend longer with Luka. But there was little point when there could be nothing between them.
Luka was still determined to sacrifice himself on the altar of some stupid male principle and return to Taldom. If he really wanted to go she couldn't stop him, but first she would return to New York and put a stop to the use of Red Death in Moray products. At least that would upset Monique's plans and maybe give Luka a chance with his family.
While she was about it, she would shut down the Dutch production facility and move it all to America where she had more control.
***
Clare woke with a start in the middle of the night. Unsure what had disturbed her, she listened intently and stared at the eerie shadows on the ceiling above her bed. Dread crawled through her. She couldn't shake the feeling that something had woken her.
She stretched her legs and wriggled her neck to ease the stiffness. As her eyelids drifted closed again, a brushing noise whispered through the half-closed bathroom door. She strained her ears. All was silent for a few seconds, then the sound came again. It could have been the curtain blowing against the tiles, except she'd closed the bathroom window after her shower.
Fear raced through her. Maybe she should go to Pablo's room, but what if Lila was still there? It would be embarrassing if she walked in on them. The idea of going to Luka was obviously out of the question.
Silence returned. Gradually, Clare relaxed again and closed her eyes. She was drifting on the edge of sleep when she heard a footfall on the tiled bathroom floor. There was no mistaking the sound. She tensed to move and nothing happened. She couldn't even turn her head. Another footstep sounded, then another, gradually getting closer. A scream filled her chest but her deadened throat and mouth remained closed.
An inky figure loomed at the end of her bed, a patch of darkness so deep it swallowed the pale glow of moonlight penetrating the drapes.
Blind terror raced along her nerves, demanding she move. Yet she remained frozen, laid out like a sacrifice on an altar. The male shape floated up, distorted into a dark cloud, and flowed over her. Red eyes glowed within the dark mass. "Clare," it breathed in a sibilant whisper.
Clare cried, a silent keening sound in her head, as the thing weighed down on her ribs, crushing the life from her. A putrid smell filled her nose and mouth. Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her face.
It touched her everywhere, pricking her skin like a million insects' legs. Pressure filled her head. Her eyes ached. Her temples throbbed as if they would explode.
She concentrated on each breath. In, out. In, out. Ignore the stench. Stay alive.