Fangs for Nothing Page 8

  “You sound exactly like him.” I leaned towards the driver. “Stop the car. I’ve decided to walk.”

  My fiancé rolled his eyes out of his head. “Oh, don’t be a child. Driver, keep going. We’ll be late.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!”

  “Then stop dating men behind my back!”

  Ah. So there it was. Finally. The actual problem and the reason why he’d been so pissy ever since our coffee date.

  I adjusted the seatbelt and brushed a little fleck of dust from my dark dress. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

  “Because it’s true?”

  My heart contracted as I turned to look at him. “Do you really think that lowly of me?”

  Shame flashed through his blue eyes. “I—”

  “Do you really think I’d date someone behind your back? And then somehow, throw him in your face?” Hurt laced through my voice, despite me trying to stay calm. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to you, to our arranged marriage, and to our own rules. Yet, you accuse me of an affair?”

  William stayed silent for a moment, war waging on his face. “But you like him. I can tell.”

  “So? What if I do? I’d never act on it. Ever. I want to marry you, you idiot. Why would I screw that up?”

  A smile curled around his mouth, lighting up his face and blue eyes. “Did you just accept my propo—”

  “NO.” A blush crept up my neck and to my cheeks. We were supposed to be in a fight, and yet, all that tension was just erased by the grin beaming off of his face.

  “Yes, you did,” he teased, stars twinkling in his irises.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He stifled a chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further. “Alright. But one day, you will.”

  I shook my head in amusement. “Of course, I will. That’s the point. I do want to marry you and I wouldn’t go behind your back about anything. You’re my best friend.”

  “And you’re mine.” He took hold of my hand and pressed it against his lips in a tender kiss. “I’m sorry, Lucinda. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  I relished in his touch, warmed by his gentleness. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry too. I don’t know what’s going on with Derek or why he’s sending all these gifts. Well, I do know why, but I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.”

  “You do like him,” he said softly.

  “I don’t know. Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it. I’m going to marry you, that’s all I know.”

  “Luce… I love you.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I could count the times he called me Luce on one hand. But whenever he did… My, oh my. It set my heart on fire.

  “I love you too, William. I really do.”

  He locked eyes with me, a serious look carved in his features. “I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife. I long to be your husband, to be your guardian, but I’d never dream of being your keeper. If you want to date other men or women, then do so. Chase what your heart desires, chase who you desire. Love and be loved. And then return to me so I can love you too.”

  “William…”

  “I mean it. If you like Derek, then see where that’s going. But tell me about it?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You want to know about it?”

  “Well… Not the details, details. But yes, why not? I don’t need to possess you to love you. And I’d like to believe you can be with someone else and still love me too.”

  A lump formed in my throat. There was so much trust and hope in his eyes, it erased any anger or annoyance for him. He was disarmingly honest when it came to it and it was one of the things I admired about him.

  I took a deep breath and reached out to touch his face. “It’s a very generous proposition, but I can’t say yes to this. I’m not sure I can reciprocate.”

  “I’m not asking you to. My heart belongs to you and only you.”

  “But… isn’t that unfair?”

  He shrugged. “Not from where I stand?”

  “I get to date multiple people, but you don’t? How is that not unfair?”

  “Because I don’t want to. And you do. We both get what we want? How is that not fair?” he reasoned.

  “You and your logic…”

  He kissed the back of my hand again. “Just think about it, okay?”

  I nodded, a little overwhelmed. This certainly wasn’t how I thought the fight would end. Would he really be okay if I dated Derek? Or would I just be stuck in the testosterone-fueled fight forever?

  As I mulled it all over, the limo drive up to the gates of the Corentine property. The driver turned around and tapped his hat. “We’ve arrived.”

  William looked at me. “Ready for tonight?”

  I took a deep breath. “No, never ready to see Mother.”

  “And all of this for a watch? Are you sure it’s worth it?” he asked.

  Watson’s words echoed in my mind as I gritted my teeth. I wasn’t going to give up. No matter how small and insignificant Jonas’ request looked to people on the outside, it was important to him. Treasure was in the eye of the beholder and I was a modern day treasure hunter.

  “Yes, it’s worth it,” I said, sitting up straighter. I wouldn’t let one snooty, wannabe PI get to me. What he thought was irrelevant. I was going to find this watch and bring it back to its owner, no matter what it cost me.

  “Alright then. I’ll try and keep your mother occupied while you talk to the Captain.”

  “Thank you. Also… I don’t have to call Jonas’ father ‘the Captain’, do I?”

  William pulled a face. “Ehhh, I recommend you do. He’s a bit of a stickler for tradition.”

  “Well, what’s more traditional than using his name? He didn’t come out being called the Captain, did he?”

  My fiancé shrugged. “I’ve long stopped to question the oddities of nobility.”

  “I suppose. Ugh, I can’t wait for tonight to be over.”

  Chapter 12

  The thing I hated most about the people at mother's soirées was the people themselves. There were just so many of them, all dressed up in their finest formal wear and looking like they'd stepped out of Pride and Prejudice. No, that was unfair. Vampire fashion had moved on from then, but only by about a hundred and twenty years or so. If a Victorian human walked in the room, they'd only be minorly scandalised.

  "Are you okay?" William asked, echoing his earlier sentiments.

  "Never been better," I muttered. He knew how I felt about my mother. And more to the point, he knew how my mother felt about me. Probably even better than I did. Whether I liked it or not, I was still a little in denial about that.

  "We don't have to stay long." He rested his hand on the small of my back, a proper gesture which would almost be expected of a man escorting a betrothed into a soirée like this. It isn't quite a formal ball, but that hasn't stopped anyone from dressing in their Sunday best. Or what would have been their Sunday best if we could set foot in a Church without shrivelling up like the Wicked Witch of the West.

  "Let's just get this over with." I scanned the room for mother, knowing that if I didn't say hello to her immediately, I'd feel like a failure of a daughter. Of course, I was going to feel that way anyway, but sometimes, it's better to minimise the damage.

  I spotted her lording over everyone, a goblet of her favourite blood in her hand. At least, I assumed it was blood. It would have been out of character for it not to be. With any luck, she'd already be a little drunk. It would certainly be easier if that was the case.

  Slipping between the various guests, with William following close behind, I tried my best not to let my nerves get the better of me.

  "Mother." I dropped into a curtsy the moment she was within hearing distance. I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't.

  "Lucinda, what a surprise. It would have been nice if you'd called. You never do."

  Because I don't want to talk to you.

 
I bit my tongue, not letting my true thoughts escape. "I've been busy with work."

  "Still on about that, are you? That's not a real job."

  Neither was being a socialite and yet that was what she wanted me to do with my life.

  "Yes. I'm working a case at the moment."

  "Hmm." Her pursed lips said it all. She really didn't approve of my job choice. Or any of my other choices for that matter. It was something I'd almost come to terms with, but still struggled with on down days.

  "It's a good turn out tonight." My attempt at small talk even made me cringe.

  "I see you brought the fiancé with you." Ah, there was the jibe at William. I should have known it was coming.

  "Yes, he's my date for the evening."

  "You really should find yourself a better man, dear."

  William stiffened beside me.

  "William is everything I need." Though the echoes of our conversation in the limo lingered in my mind, they didn't make my words any less true. William was still worthy of my love and affection, just like I was of his.

  "Then why hasn't he married you yet, dear. A hundred and twenty-six and still unwed." She clucked her tongue before taking a sip of her blood.

  "I don't think that's any of your business," William said.

  I sighed. He tried this every couple of decades, and he always got the same response.

  Mother's withering stare came even faster than I'd anticipated. "Run along, William. I wish to talk to my daughter."

  A lead weight dropped in my stomach. What could she possibly want from me that William couldn't hear? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. As much as I didn't want to admit it, his presence when we were around her was one of the only things that kept me sane and not ripping out the throats of any unsuspecting people nearby.

  I turned to William and reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be okay," I mouthed, not wanting to even whisper in case mother was still listening.

  He hesitated, but then nodded, turning to go into the crowd. I knew he'd be back the moment I needed him. That was the beauty of coming to these things with him. He understood when I needed support and when it was better to disappear into the crowd.

  "What can I do for you, mother?" I asked, trying not to let my frustration show.

  "Did you have to bring him with you? His inability to get you to marry him makes the family look bad."

  "If we're not married, he's not part of the family," I pointed out, very much feeling like William was the lucky one in that situation.

  "You may be right there, dear."

  I did a double take. Did she just accept I was right? What was the world coming to.

  "Blood?" she offered as one of the servers came past.

  "No, thank you." I waved the man away. It wasn't that I didn't like the taste of the SM Bloodries product, but more that I'd rather not drink alcohol laced blood while at a formal event. It just screamed disaster.

  "Probably for the best, you've put on weight again."

  The sting of my nails pressing into the soft skin of my palm cut through the anger starting to build within me. At least I could still centre myself in the face of such derision.

  "Was there anything else?" I tapped my foot against the floor, hoping she'd dismiss me.

  Instead, she took another sip of blood. At least with every bit she drank, the chances of her getting drunk and leaving me alone increased.

  "I suppose at least William is better than that boy you used to hang out with. What was his name again?"

  "I don't remember," I answered, far too quickly to fool anyone.

  "Watson was it? Oh, he was trouble."

  He still was. But I didn't think mentioning that to mother was a good idea.

  "I don't remember," I said instead.

  "He's here tonight. Lady Doris brought him, goodness knows why." She waved her glass around as if she didn't care that she might spill it. Her dress was the colour of blood, which meant any stains wouldn't show up. Smart thinking on her part.

  "If that's all, mother, I have someone I want to go find," I said, already turning away from her. My heart pounded in my throat. No matter how many times I did this, each one was scarier than the last.

  She didn't say anything else as I walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as I was back in the crowds. Ha. That was something I never thought I'd think.

  Without looking where I was going, I shuffled through the people, knowing William would be waiting for me near the sculpture of some Greek gods. It was where we used to meet as teenagers when we thought the adults weren't looking.

  Something hard blocked my path, and I looked up to find Watson smirking at me.

  "No need to fall into me, Lucinda."

  "I thought I told you not to call me that," I growled, pushing myself away from him and straightening myself back up.

  "My apologies, it's Lady Lucinda here, is it not?"

  I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. If he was trying to push all my buttons, he was doing a good job of it. If he wasn't, then maybe he should just stay out of my way and stop doing it anyway.

  "Just Lucy will do."

  "Well then, just Lucy, why don't we go somewhere and talk?" There was a twinkle in his eye that I couldn't quite work out.

  "I think Lady Doris wouldn't approve of that," I countered.

  "What is it with all you nobles and your need to use lord and lady all the time?" he asked, louder than I was entirely comfortable with.

  Against my better judgement, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into one of the alcoves, pulling the curtain shut behind us. I didn't think the private spots were supposed to be used for telling people off.

  "Doris will like this even less." His voice dipped low, almost suggesting a promise of some kind.

  Not one I was going to take him up on. I already had a fiancé and potentially a Derek, I didn't need anyone else. Especially not annoying-former-childhood-best-friend, Watson.

  "What are you doing here?" I hissed.

  "I came to party." He leaned back against the wall, the devilish grin revealing one of his fangs. "You do understand the concept of a party, right?"

  "You mean an exhausting event to wear uncomfortable clothes to, and use the drink as an excuse to flirt with people you're not supposed to?"

  "You're the one that's in here with me instead of out there with dear William." He shrugged and affected a nonchalant air.

  "My apologies. I forgot my place. Enjoy your fun with the bike of High Society." I balled up the curtain in my hand, ready to draw it back and escape from the torment of having to talk to him. This was worse than drinking diseased blood when I thought I was getting the good stuff.

  "Please don't go." The words were soft, almost vulnerable. It reminded me of the Watson I knew as a child, and that was dangerous.

  "Then you need to start talking," I demanded. "I'm no one's plaything."

  "And don't I know it," he muttered. "Just be careful, alright."

  "What?" I shook my head, trying to make sense of his odd warning.

  "I know you're working on Jonas' case..."

  "Yes, you made that clear." I crossed my arms and waited for him to hurry up and get to the point. If he had one. For all I knew, this was nothing more than his newest way to torture me. Yes, that seemed likely.

  "How well do you know the man?" he asked.

  "Not at all." There was no point lying about that. One question to the right person here and he'd know the truth anyway.

  He grimaced but didn't say anything.

  "Just spit it out, Watt," I demanded.

  His grimace turned into a smirk, and I realised seconds later what I'd done. Not that I was going to make a deal about it. We were just going to pretend that it hadn't happened.

  "I just think he's bad news, Lucy. You should be careful."

  "I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself," I bit out. Since when did he even care? I wasn't his friend. That had ended the moment he'd stopped sp
eaking to me when we were fourteen.

  "I know you are. Fangs do I know it. But I think there's more going on and I don't want to see you hurt."

  "Thank you for your concern," I responded coldly. "I'll take that into account when I'm doing my casework. Now if that's all?"

  This time, I didn't wait for him to stop me, and drew the curtain back in one swift moment.

  My heart sank. "William," I whispered. "It's not what you think..."

  He raised an eyebrow as he studied the scene. “I see you’re already making yourself comfortable then?” he quipped, his voice a lot lighter than I expected.

  “Watson Xavier Smith, pleased to meet you,” Watt said, stepping forward and extending his hand.

  Without even deeming him worthy of a look, William dismissed him. “I know who you are.”

  “I don’t believe we’ve formally met,” my childhood friend, now-nemesis, said.

  A darkness flashed through my fiancé’s eyes as he bore his gaze into Watt. “Believe me, you don’t want to.”

  An air of danger surrounded my gentle William, adding a palpable tension to the atmosphere.

  I gulped a lump in my throat down, even though I knew he’d never address me with such coldness. He didn’t even really mean it, it was just one of the things he inherited from his father. Unlike him, William knew how and when to use it.

  Watson shot a nervous look at me, one eye twitching slightly. “Ummm…”

  “Don’t look at her. Look at me.”

  The two men were caught in a testosterone fueled stand-off, something William seemed to be getting quite good at.

  For a moment, the tense silence hung between the two of them. A low growl rumbled, but I couldn’t tell from who it was.

  Just as I feared that my fiancé would make Watt a head shorter, the two burst out in laughter.

  “Oh, man. This never gets old,” Watson chuckled, slapping William on the back jovially.

  “Good to see you, Watson.”

  Huh? What was this? They knew each other? Well, I knew they knew each other, I just didn’t realise they were on a first-name basis. More so, they seemed friendly. Why were they friendly?

  “It’s been a while. Where’ve you been?” Watt asked as he tapped his head. Any vulnerability was long gone and made place for his cheery, cocky attitude.