Chapter 16

D ominic

Three hours in a car with Trixie Gardens was a sweet kind of torture.

I made the mistake a few minutes into the ride of glancing over at Trixie. One look at that mussed hair and those swollen-kissed lips, and I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since. Literally. For even a second. It was this compulsion, this desire to pull her close unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

I also felt sort of deliriously happy. At one point, I reached over and grabbed Trixie's hand, just holding it as I drove for no reason at all. The last time I'd held a woman's hand was... well, a long time ago.

About two hours into the drive, Trixie glanced down at us holding hands, her ears turning red. She studied me with some side-eye, which was probably warranted. I wasn't a smiley sort of guy, and it was like I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. Literally, I'd tried. It was stuck and I was at a loss for what was happening to me.

Once, she'd ventured a careful, "Are you okay?"

"Yep," I chirped, that smile glued to my lips. I could practically feel my incisors fighting the smile going on around them.

"Can you pull over here?" Trixie asked, giving one more glance at my oddly long-lasting smile when I shifted uncomfortably. "I need to do something. "

I glanced at the stretches of cornfields that went on for miles on either direction. "Here?"

"Yes, please." She wiggled her phone. "I have service."

I pulled over. We'd been the only car on the road for miles and miles. I waited while Trixie stepped into the sunshine. She shut the door behind her, and despite my best efforts not to eavesdrop, I couldn't help but hear every word of her conversation. Vampire senses and all. That, and the fact that Trixie was practically shouting.

"Gran?" Trixie ran a hand through her hair, the color of it glittering beneath the sunny blue skies. She looked like a princess. "Yes, it's me. What the hell did you put in that hex?"

"The usual," Gran said over the phone line. "Why? Is it working? Has Dominic been deliriously happy?"

"You're making the poor man miserable. It's like he's got this smile fixed onto his face that won't go away, and the way he's shifting in his seat has me thinking he's been happy in his pants for so long he's requiring a trip to the emergency room. Not to mention the fact that the vampire is holding my hand. Holding my hand, Betty!"

I winced and turned to glance out the other window. Trixie wasn't wrong. My body was doing a few things I wasn't exactly proud of, and I wasn't sure what was happening. A growing suspicion told me it might not entirely be the fault of biology.

"Oh, how very interesting," Gran muttered. "I didn't realize my Happy Hex would have so many side effects. I did add a spoken enchantment on top of the actual potion, and I've never been the best with word specificity. I suppose my words could've been twisted a bit."

"Gran," Trixie groaned. "What enchantment did you use exactly ?"

"I don't remember the specific language used."

" Gran ."

"Okay, okay. I do recall the phrase "put this vampire in a state of constant excitement" being used. In retrospect, I suppose I didn't specify which part of his body should be in constant excitement. I'd assumed, you know, he'd be happy in the head."

I groaned.

"I did not realize that it would apply elsewhere."

"Yeah, well, now he's grinning and holding my hand like we're engaged. Among other things."

"I should've probably left the enchantment off," Gran admitted. "But I usually fix these Happy Hexes for old folks, and they don't mind a little boost in that general vicinity, if you know what I mean."

"This is a disaster."

"It's fine," Grandma Betty promised. "It'll wear off in twenty minutes."

Trixie hung up. When she climbed into my car, she glanced at me. I was pretty good at hiding my emotions. But even I wasn't built to hide my surprise at the fact that the sly old fox had hexed a very powerful vampire to feel happy . What a conundrum.

"You had your grandmother hex me?" I asked. "Seriously?

"You heard all that?" Trixie said weakly .

"I tried not to," I said. "But even a mere mortal could've heard you and your Gran shouting in the middle of this godforsaken cornfield."

Trixie licked her lips. I felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her. Stupid hex. Now I wasn't sure which parts of the things I was feeling were real and which were courtesy of Grandma Betty.

"I'm sorry," Trixie said. "Grandma Betty makes these Happy Hexes for all her neighbors. She convinced me to let her make one for you because I was telling her about our hate hex battle, and she suggested trying to kill you with kindness—not literally kill you, obviously. I did double check that she wasn't trying to kill you. Twice."

"How thoughtful of you," I drawled.

Trixie blew out a telling breath of relief. "Anyway, I let her make me a potion, and I'm sorry. I had my doubts, and I tried to stop you from drinking it when she put it in your coffee this morning, but then I got carried away by our conversation. By that time, it was too late."

"The kiss earlier—"

"That wasn't affected by the potion," Trixie assured me. "Gran was positive the potion wouldn't work for an hour. She purposefully delayed it so you wouldn't know exactly when you'd been hexed."

"Trust me, I felt it kick in like I'd been rammed by a Mack truck," I grunted. "My cheeks hurt from smiling so much."

"Smiling looks good on you."

I turned toward her. "Seriously?"

She winced. "So it does look a little unusual, I admit. I suppose there's a happy medium between grouchy-you and happy-you."

I gave a nod as I pulled back onto the road. "Twenty more minutes before I can finally stop to get you that coffee you've been wanting for half an hour without getting out of the car and looking like The Joker. I hadn't stopped because I'd been afraid of startling the mortals."

"I'm sorry," Trixie moaned. "Maybe we call off our hex war? Things are spiraling out of control."

"I think that's a solid plan. Now that your grandmother is involved, I officially forfeit. No telling what she'll try next."

Twenty minutes later, like clockwork, the smile dropped off my face. Trixie glanced over, and I pinned her with a stare that could've obliterated a lesser woman.

Trixie's face colored gently, like a sweet pink poppy. "So, about that coffee then?"

Once we'd procured Trixie's caffeine, we got back on the road. I could tell Trixie was working up the nerve to ask me something. It took her twenty more minutes after her coffee kicked in.

"Why would your brother be trying to target people close to you?" Trixie blurted. "People who look like me?"

I glanced her way, a deflection at the ready, when I realized that this was not the time to play coy. If I was putting Trixie's life in danger by merely being close to her, then she deserved to know the truth.

"It's complicated." I felt my knuckles gripping tighter on the wheel. "My brother loved being turned into a vampire. Still does—he thrives on immortality, unlike me. I hated being a vampire, really hated myself for a long time."

"Do you still?"

"I've learned to live with it," I said. "I don't love what I am, but I've accepted it. Maybe started to believe that it doesn't have to define me."

Trixie nodded as if that made a lot of sense to her.

"My brother has been on the run from the law for a long time. He's killed a lot of people. Allegedly," I added darkly. "Sebastian hates that I've amassed a small fortune, all of it through legal means. He hates that I own nice things. That I can date pretty women. That I have a life. Now with the wildcard nomination, I think it's more than he can handle. He's retaliating, showing me that he's willing to ruin my life—just because he can. He, on the other hand, has nothing to lose."

"He sounds like a psychopath."

I shrugged because she wasn't wrong. My brother had let the bloodthirst get to his head. Sebastian had never tried to practice self-control when it came to feeding off mortals, and it had driven him to a level of dangerous insanity. He hated that I could control the one thing that had driven him to madness.

"I want to hire you to be my driver," Dom said. "I also think you should stay in my penthouse until I locate my brother."

"No."

"We'll discuss that later, then," I said on a sigh. "I'm sorry that you're getting dragged into this."

"It's not your fault."

"Maybe not, but it's definitely not yours. "

Trixie chanced a glance at me. "Does your brother have something to do with you wanting to sell the apartment building?"

"As a matter of fact, he does. Over the years, Sebastian and I have tried to be business partners. About a decade ago, he resurfaced swearing he was trying to get clean. I offered to go in on some business ventures with him to give him a leg up—to give him something to live for outside of the bloodthirst."

"You tried to save him, but it didn't work."

"Sebastian never managed to get it under control. Now, he's trying to make my life a living hell with any arrangements we have together—like the fact that both our names are on the apartment building paperwork. I'm dumping any deal I have with him because I can't be tied to my brother in any way."

"I understand," she said. "It's ironic, isn't it? I want to keep the apartment because it reminds me of my mom. You want to cut it out of your life because it reminds you of your brother."

"I'm sorry the decision affects you. My brother has screwed up a lot of lives."

"For what it's worth, I don't hate it quite so much."

"Hate what?"

"I understand why you have to sell the apartment," Trixie said quietly. "I think I might be holding onto my home for the wrong reasons."

I kept my eyes on the road, sensing she wasn't done talking. I was hoping Trixie would keep sharing so long as I kept quiet.

"When I was little, my mom used me for my magic," Trixie said. "She asked me to do some pretty crappy things for her with my powers from a young age. I grew up trying to hide my magic, thinking that maybe she'd love me for me instead of my powers if I didn't have any."

"I'm so sorry, Trix."

"She did love me though, and the apartment where we lived was the one place I felt safe." She shrugged. "I guess that's why I was always so attached to it. Why I never wanted to let it go."

Now I felt like Satan incarnate, selling the one thing about her crappy childhood that had been a positive light for her.

"It's not all my mom's fault. She had some substance abuse issues with products from behind The Veil. I could always tell when she was using because her magic took on this weird tint."

"You can see magic?"

"Sort of. More like sensing auras. Not anymore," I said quickly. "I learned to block that out along with the rest of the magic."

"So you don't know what my aura is?"

"Haven't looked," she said shortly.

I let the conversation sit. She seemed to need a moment.

"Would you give it all up?" Trixie asked a few beats later. She stared out the window, purposefully not meeting my gaze. "Would you go back and avoid being changed into a vampire if you could?"

I considered. It was a good question. Up until now, until these last few weeks, I would've said yes without hesitation. The wealth, the lifestyle, the immortal years—I could do without all of that. Given the choice of a normal life, a family, a home, and then a natural death over what I had now, I'd have chosen a normal life.

But that was then, and this was now.

Now, things were different.

"Not anymore," I murmured. "There was a time when I would've given anything I had to get my mortality back, but that time has passed."

Trixie swallowed hard as if she could tell that I was hinting at something deeper. Something she wasn't quite ready to hear. I wasn't ready to face the truth either, but I was ready to start being as honest as I could with Trixie. It was the only way I could hope to move forward.

"Anyway, now you know my sob story, or the gist of it," Trixie said with a wry glance in my direction. "All these years, I've been clinging to the good parts of my mom."

"And the apartment was one of those good parts."

"The best part."

"When did you lose your mom?"

"Right after I gave up my magic." Trixie gave a shuddering sigh. "I almost killed a man. My mom's boyfriend at the time wasn't a good guy. One night, he was getting violent, more than usual. We were living with him, and when I came home that night to his place, I found him with his hands around her throat, and that was it. I just... I blew up at him."

"Was he going to kill her?"

"I thought so," Trixie said. "Then I thought I'd killed him for a few minutes. When I saw he was breathing, I ran away. I was sixteen. "

"That was self-defense," I argued. "There's nothing wrong with you saving your mother's life by using your magic."

"It wasn't just the attack," Trixie clarified. "That was just the culmination of it. My whole life, I'd been used for my magic from the one person who was supposed to love me and keep me safe. Sometimes it felt like she only loved me when I was doing things for her, using my powers in a way she couldn't do herself."

"That's awful."

I shrugged. "I didn't realize it at the time. But that night, it hit me. Magic was just an unstable, dangerous tool. Even when I tried to use it for good, it was uncontrollable. I decided I was just better off never touching it again."

"Did you see your mom again?"

"She found me after I ran away. She promised that it was all over. That I'd be safe with her."

"Was it all over?"

"Never got to find out. She died three days later. Possible overdose."

"I'm so sorry, Trix. It's no wonder you don't use your magic."

She raised her eyebrows to acknowledge my point. "All that to say, I've been feeling unsettled for a long time. I've been in survival mode since the day I ran away from home, if not before. Maybe it's time for me to try and start fresh, to live more intentionally, without the memory of my mother hanging over my shoulder for the wrong reasons. "

I reached over, rested a hand on her thigh, gave a squeeze. "Whatever you need, Trix, I'm here for you. In any way."

Trixie looked down at our touch as if gently surprised. She didn't recoil. Instead, she reached a hand down, rested it on mine, gave a gentle squeeze back. This time, it felt natural. This time, there was no stupid Happy Hex behind it.

"Thanks," she whispered.

We drove like that for a while, my hand cocooned between her leg and her hand. My chest felt like it was ballooning outward from a swell of something resembling real emotions. I felt weaker than I'd felt in years, and I wanted more of it.

"Now we need to discuss your job," I said finally, as we turned toward the local streets within The Hollow. I could feel the end of the ride approaching like a cloud of doom. Once the wheels stopped, our bubble of privacy would be broken.

"My job?"

"As my driver. Before you turn down my offer," I continued quickly, "let me preface by saying that it would just be for a few weeks. Okay, go ahead and spit out your negatives before I continue."

"No, Dom," she said, right on cue. "I don't want your pity or your money."

I expected the rebuttal. "Right, and this is neither pity nor a handout. If you don't agree, I'd feel the need to put a security detail on you. Not to be invasive, but just to keep an eye on you while my brother's near."

"Still no. "

"I know what my brother is capable of," I said. "And trust me, you don't want to be killed by Sebastian Kent."

Trixie just blinked as if she'd never really considered the details of it. I didn't want to scare her, but on the other hand, Sebastian Kent wasn't a man to be taken lightly.

"On the positive, if you accept my offer, you will have secure employment for the foreseeable future that is safe and predictable. I will pay you a handsome but fair salary that I'd pay any other personal driver. It should be enough to get you on your feet for a new place—wherever you desire to live."

Trixie's face changed, and I could see her leaning into the negatives as I'd expected she would. Which was why it surprised me when she nodded.

"Fine."

"Fine?" I glanced at her. "That was easier than I expected."

Trixie flinched, looking both smaller and braver than ever. "I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, and the thing is, I need a job. I need an apartment. I can't have either if I keep living the way I've always been living. I especially can't do any of that if I'm dead."

"Very logical." I winked at her. "I approve. So it's a deal?"

"Just until the campaign ends, and I get a new place," Trixie said. "When your brother sees that neither of us is elected to the wildcard seat, and that we're parting to go our separate ways, I doubt I'll be a target anymore."

"But—"

"Final offer," she said firmly.

I took a deep breath as I considered, stalling for time. "You start tomorrow. "

When I pulled over to the place where Trixie had abandoned her car yesterday, I was loathe to pull my hand away from her leg. The only thing that made it a little better was the fact that Trixie didn't move her hand either.

"About the kiss in the kitchen," I said. "I meant what I said. That wasn't because of some geriatric potion."

"I know, Dom," she said, a smile twitching at her lips. "But if you're going to hire me, and if we're really trying to prove to your brother that we're not a couple, then I don't think it's a good idea to explore anything right now. I think we should keep a professional distance."

"Sure." The word felt like acid. "Very logical."

"Logical," she repeated, like logic in and of itself was stupid.

I agreed. Right now, I hated logic.

"I'll see you tomorrow." A half-smile bloomed on Trixie's face as she slid out of the car and gestured toward her own junker sitting abandoned on the side of the road. "Your chariot will be ready first thing in the morning."