25. THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN HIS ROOM

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN HIS ROOM

A ndras's mind took us to his bedroom again, and I wanted to smack him for a second, thinking he was trying to be funny. The full moon spotlighted his bedroom window and the veranda, where a dark-haired beauty, Nadia, waited with her hands on her hips in an unmistakable "go fuck yourself" power stance. It was cold out, and I felt something, looking at her. Love? Was I feeling his feelings, too? Or not necessarily feeling them, but sensing them second-hand?

One of Nadia's six-inch heels tapped against the ground impatiently. Andras threw open the double doors and stepped into the light, locking his sights on Nadia. They took each other in for a moment, he narrowed in on her sharp cheekbones and large almond eyes. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, and I could feel that she knew it from the way she looked down her nose at him despite being a few inches shorter. She stepped forward, her expression resolute and severe. Andras slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back slightly on his heels.

"Nadia," he spat. Then his body began to shake, his lips twitching as a smile broke free, and they both burst into laughter. Then Nadia was on top of him, on top of us, her long legs wrapped around his waist. I tensed. Did I really need to see all of this? Nadia gently cradled his head in her hands, kissing his cheeks all over, leaving sticky red lipstick marks. He set her down lightly, and she sauntered right past him into the bedroom, like she owned the place, with Andras following close on her heels, hands back inside his pockets. If I were able to feel my body at that point, I knew my skin would be crawling, and my heart would drop in anticipation of what might happen next. If they were gonna fuck, I didn't want to see it.

"I've missed you," she cooed, twirling to face him with an ethereal grace that had clearly been honed over centuries; after all, she'd jokingly referred to Andras as "an infant," a reminder that she was so, so much older than him. She reached out and touched his shoulder gently.

"I've missed you," he said, absolutely beaming. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Everywhere," she shrugged, looking down at his pants and wrinkling her nose. "Never thought I'd see you in loungewear," she teased.

My eyes flicked towards a wall mirror and there Andras stood, shoulders back, head high, sapphire eyes twinkling. Okay, was she insane or did she not notice how absolutely incredible his ass looked in those pants?

He followed her disapproving gaze down the length of his body, then smirked. "A sign of the times, old friend," he cocked his head, "and I caught your scent just as I was heading to bed. There simply wasn't enough time to change into something more acceptable."

Nadia's smile faded, and she bit her lip nervously. She clicked her fingernails together a few times.

"Listen," she cleared her throat quietly, "before we catch up." She winced, "I've got some extraordinarily shitty news and you're not going to like it one bit."

Andras's entire body went rigid. Staring at her mouth, he waited for whatever damning words were about to fall from her full red lips.

"Well, it seems you might have some ex-boyfriend problems soon."

"What does that—"

Nadia raised her brows and dipped her chin to indicate that he fucking knew exactly what it meant.

"Oh no," Andras whispered, staggering back. His legs felt weak, and his fear became my fear. I wanted to hold him. He began to pace from his bed to the fireplace and back. "No, no, no," he chanted. "Bloody hell, no. That's not possible." He dragged my hands through his hair. I could feel his face twisting with rage. The room came into hyperfocus, and I knew that meant his pupils were expanding, like spilled ink, rubbing out the blue, just as they had before he'd pulled me into his mind to watch all of this unfold. He clenched his hands into tight fists at his side, still pacing, and his eyes narrowed into two hateful slits focused entirely on the floor.

"Yeah," Nadia agreed as she blew out a breath. "I'm sorry."

She took a step toward him. "It appears that your psychotic ex is free from that lovely cement pit we dumped him in. And apparently, yet unsurprisingly, he's holding a bit of a grudge." She examined her ruby red nail polish, which anyone else would have taken as a gesture of indifference, but Andras seemed to view it positively. He knew her well enough to know that she was focusing her attention elsewhere in order to give him time to process without her eyes on him.

He paced some more, and then we were in a different memory, a darker one, grainy and old. The smell of wet cement overwhelmed my senses, followed by gargling, furious screams and threats of revenge hurled up at Andras from somewhere low, somewhere nearby. A pit, a quickly filling pit. Nadia stood to his right, grasping his hand so hard I thought she might break it off until the rage and roaring stopped. They slept there, seated in the shadows, until the slab was thoroughly cured.

Then we were back in his bedroom, facing Nadia, whose eyes were silver-lined and full of sorrow.

"How?" Andras pressed, his deep voice quiet and steady in a way that promised violence. He gestured to the carpet between them, "tell me how." He quickly scanned the room, then went to the window to peer out. Nothing. Nothing but trees.

Andras whispered quietly to himself, "he could be anywhere. He could be on a branch, on a roof, hiding in a car. Anywhere."

Nadia closed the distance between us, or between them, coming so close I could see every one of her long, sweeping lashes. "Humans," she grimaced. "They freed him. Some students…" She trailed off then threw up her hands, "and that's why they can't have nice things!"

Andras glanced at her disapprovingly.

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

Sauntering over towards Andras's bed, the same bed he'd touched me on the last time he'd pulled me into his mind, she leaned against the mattress, and my heart dropped, thinking of where this might be going. Nadia casually brushed a piece of lint away from her red dress. She scented the air.

"Something happened here recently," she crooned, looking around, distracted for a moment. And…oh, Gods, could she smell that I'd been there? Could there even be a scent from that? Or…had other women been there recently?

I didn't want to know.

she seemed to remember that she was in the middle of delivering bad news. "As I was saying," she cleared her throat, "some archeology students studying the old way of making Roman cement accidentally freed him while excavating the site, and, unfortunately, wound up very dead. There was barely anything left of them, just a mess of husks shredded to pieces after they'd been drained dry."

Andras stalked past Nadia, out of the bedroom, and down the stairs. He moved towards the study, Nadia traipsing behind him like she had all the time in the world.

"I've tracked his mayhem to this continent, Andras," she went on. "He's already here, maybe not yet in Denver, but here." I felt a chill skitter up Andras's spine and neck, and I wanted to cringe, to hide. He was afraid, very afraid, and I wondered: how evil is this person if both Andras and Nadia are terrified of him?

Andras bit back nausea as he beelined straight for the bar cart against the back wall, lifting a whiskey decanter from its place and filling a heavy crystal glass to the rim with the amber liquid. He handed the glass to Nadia without looking up, intentionally avoiding the concern in her eyes.

He poured the same glass for himself before offering the side of his glass to Nadia. The crystal rang out beautifully as their glasses gently collided.

"Cheers." They said flatly, without any cheer at all.

Andras knocked back his whiskey in two enormous gulps, then poured another while still swallowing. For fuck's sake, this man knew how to drown his feelings. Nadia frowned at him, but he didn't seem to care. She made it a point to take her whiskey in small mouthfuls, sending a deliberate and judgemental message with each sip.

"You realize that you need to be sober to deal with this, right?" she gently chided as Andras depleted his second glass. "And considering your black-as-night lord-of-death eyes, I'm guessing that you're not at all in the right headspace for this conversation yet. Carry on, then, keep drinking." She lowered herself to the side of the armrest of the sofa, legs crossed at the ankle.

"What is it?" Nadia demanded. "Something is bothering you. I can feel it."

He scowled at her, then downed yet another glass of whiskey as if it were a cold glass of water in the desert. Adding one more splash of liquor to his glass, he blew out a breath and then turned to face her, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Not too long ago," he began, "I saw a halfling. I wasn't entirely sure because it's been such a long time since I've scented one, but I'm certain of it now.

"You saw a halfling where ?"

"It's a long story. A man broke into a neighbor's house very close by, and I happened to hear the struggle and went in to help. He was unconscious when I leaned in to get a closer look at him, but his scent was…weird. Human, but not."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. I even tried to find him again after, tried to track him down and couldn't. I've kept an eye on the house, and on the woman he attacked, but nothing so far."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He suspected the thing that attacked me wasn't human. And he'd been keeping an eye on my house ever since? I didn't know whether to be flattered or horrified.

Andras scrubbed at his face and cracked his neck.

"It's been what, centuries?" he bit out. "You don't think there's a chance that he might just want to, I don't know, fucking move on?"

Nadia's eyebrows went up at that.

"Weak men have held on to grudges for a lot less than a broken heart, Andras. Well, a broken heart and a knife in the back."

Andras rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Does it honestly count as a betrayal if he was trying to kill us?"

"In his deranged mind, yes."

Andras paced back and forth on the rug as if his vampire senses had gone haywire, nearly knocking into the coffee table.

"How much time do you think we have?" he asked, glancing at the windows again, tapping his pinky against the glass in his hand like a tiny nervous woodpecker.

Nadia shrugged.

"I don't know. Hours. Or days. He's fast and insane so it's possible he's already right outside of your house. I came to warn you as soon as I found out. It would have been faster to call, but I really don't trust phones, you know that. Never have."

Andras stopped pacing and his shoulders relaxed.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "I have missed you." He smiled with his teeth, "I am happy to see you, even though I wish it were under better circumstances. Please, tell me you're going to stay a bit?"

I felt Andras's eyeballs tingle. I wondered if he was going to cry, or…or was that what it felt like when his pupils shrunk back to normal after his eyes went black?

"Ah, you're calming down," Nadia observed.

Yep, must have been that. I laughed to myself.

Nadia stood before him as beautiful as any model and as proud as an empress, with the same eternal grace as a God.

"I've missed you, too, Az," she said, taking Andras's hand in hers and holding it. "We haven't been in the same place together in centuries, not since we both lived in London, with all its unimaginable indulgences." She grinned like a cat and Andras chortled. "We drank everything and every one , danced all night, and were mostly happy. Weren't we?"

"Mostly. Everything would have been perfect if it hadn't been for Callum."

"So you won't leave right away, then?" Andras questioned, peering down into her eyes.

Nadia tilted her head up and smiled wickedly, "Leave? Me?" She clicked her tongue against her teeth, "and miss out on all the fun?" She motioned around the room, "Never. I didn't get enough of you back in whatever century. The Middle Ages? So long ago, gross." She wrinkled her nose at that. "Plus, I'm curious about the life you've built here."

She dropped Andras's hand to turn away from him, pointing a ruby red nail at the bookshelves filled with way too many books, an occasional piece of art, and one succulent shriveled nearly to death.

"Still reading everything you can get your hands on, I see." Her lips curved up in a teasing smile.

"Oh, much worse," Andras teased. "I'm a book editor."

He went to the leather couch to perch on the armrest, resting his forearms on his thighs.

Nadia spoke to the bookshelves, "From feared mercenary to publishing? It's essentially a lateral move, I suppose?"

Nadia sauntered over to join him on the couch. She slipped her heels off, letting each one tumble to the floor with a thud. She flexed and pointed her slender feet, toes painted red to match her fingernails, before swinging them up onto the couch and lying down. Crossing her long legs at the ankle, she pulled a throw pillow toward herself and fluffed it behind her head.

With her eyes closed, she breathed,

"I'm awake. Just need to rest for a minute. I haven't slept in days. I had to get here–to Denver, to you–as fast as possible." She hummed quietly to herself for a time, "I know that this is terrible, Az. I know that Callum is a dangerous lunatic, but something else seems to be weighing on you, too. Something…no…some one , is making it all that much worse, no? What's their name, this person you're worried about?"

Nadia briefly opened one eye to peer up at Andras from the couch, then closed it. Her lips revealed the slightest hint of muted amusement as she waited for him to answer.

"You're obnoxious," he said, teasing, "and her name is Danny."

My heart thundered. He was worried about me? I didn't want to see this. It felt wrong to watch this, like an invasion of privacy, eavesdropping on them talking about this, about me.

His jaw worked, and he rubbed at his temples.

"I think about her all the time, almost constantly, since the first night I met her. She's beautiful and curvy, with a full gorgeous ass and modest, beautiful breasts that fit perfectly in my mouth." He smiled wickedly at Nadia, who grinned with her eyes still closed. I wanted to smack him; I was flattered and proud that he thought me beautiful, but I wanted to smack him. The bragging lout.

Andras went on, "Her eyes are sometimes the color of evergreen, other times golden yellow and weary but warm. Her laugh is breathy and sincere, and she isn't afraid of me, even knowing what I am. She isn't scared to rage at me, something that I don't encounter often, as you well know. Not as a mercenary or soldier, and certainly not as a vampire. Well, other than with you, of course, Nadia. You've never had a hard time in that regard." He huffed a laugh, and my Gods, I wondered if my body was swooning back in his foyer.

"I barely know her," he continued, "but she's special. I feel like I've come home when I'm with her."

"Huh," Nadia breathed thoughtfully. "Did you feel that way instantly? Like you'd been infected by her?"

"That's an odd way to put it, but yes."

"Fated," Nadia whispered.

"That's just folklore. It's not real."

"How do we know that?" Nadia raised an eyebrow in question.

"I've never seen it. Have you?"

"Just once. I think just once."

"She's also human." A pause. "And a mum to two little girls."

He tensed as if waiting for Nadia to react as if he expected her to leap to her feet and pummel him.

Her lids flicked open, and she growled.

"You're a bloody idiot," she scolded.

Almost too fast for me to track the movement, she yanked the pillow out from under her head and flung it at him, but he snatched it out of the air and winked at her.

"Have you gone mad?" she hissed, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Apparently, yes," he said, setting the pillow down next to him. "You'd like her, though. She's kind and determined. A real ball buster." He huffed another laugh.

"Well in that case, I would like her," Nadia agreed. "But you're still a bloody idiot."

"Yes. And now it's all a mess. Now I'm afraid I've put her in danger."

"You absolutely should feel terrible," she said flatly, but then she grinned. "I'm teasing. Andras, you had no idea this was going to happen. And what a horrible life you'd lead, we'd both lead, if we spent every day thinking about that vampiric equivalent of asbestos we call your ex. I'd rather hoped he'd just rot until the earth boiled and put him underwater."

"Yeah," Andras ground out.

Nadia's smile faded as she studied him.

"Can I ask you a question?" she whispered.

"Anything," he whispered back.

"Alright." She blew out a breath, and Andras stilled, waiting for something terrible. "As an editor, are you specializing in…paranormal romance?"

"Oh, fuck off," he said, throwing back his head to laugh. He grabbed a pillow with vampire speed and hurled it at her, but she curled up like an armadillo to deflect the hit, her red dress hiking up to reveal red panties. He threw back his head and laughed and laughed: a warm, deep, belly laugh. Nadia leaped to her feet and grabbed another pillow, but by then, he was running towards the door. She gave chase, bare feet smacking against the floor, across the entryway, up the stairs, and to his bedroom where he dove onto his bed, howling. She bounced after him and clambered onto his back, as she growled and pretended to nip at the nape of his neck. They shook with laughter. Nadia rolled off of him and removed her leather harness, dropping it off the side of the bed. Andras rolled onto his side and propped his head up on an elbow to watch her. I wasn't sure I wanted to see what was about to happen next, but I kept looking anyway, peering out from behind his eyes. Nadia peeled off her dress and threw it across the room, her ample breasts bouncing in her red lacey bra. Climbing under the blankets in her underthings, she rolled to her side to face him, hands under her cheek, eyes hooded with sleep. She yawned.

"Tell me everything about Danny," she said, barely a whisper.

Everything went black as the memory faded.

It took me a second to figure out what memory we were visiting next. The world lay cloaked in darkness and shadow. When the shadows receded, Andras sat at his dining room table, the room still in one piece, with his face in his hands.

"Andras? You did the right thing, Az," Nadia was saying.

She sat across the table from him, stretching her neck from side to side and adjusting the strap of her white slip. Andras groaned, then dropped his hands from his face. He clasped them together under his chin and watched Nadia drink her coffee. She flipped her hair to one side and angled her head, offering a small warm smile.

"Az?" she said, again.

Andras simply raised his brows in answer.

"I don't know if lying to her was the right thing to do," Nadia said, "But I guess lying is better than endangering her kids. Her ex-husband, well…I honestly don't care if Callum shows up to disembowel him. He sounds like an ass."

Andras huffed a laugh.

Nadia tapped her long, claw-like fingernails against her mug, as if she were thinking of something more supportive to say.

This must have been what happened right after Andras texted me that he would be leaving. So this was moments before, oh…before Callum came here and destroyed everything, moments before Nadia and Andras were injured and kneeling in rubble.

"Look, you know how I feel about men running around making other people's decisions for them," Nadia went on. "It's not okay. But in this case, it's that, or she ends up torn to pieces. And he'd make it last, too, you know—"

"—I know. You're right. But it doesn't feel good."

"We both know you can handle plenty of pain and somehow be mostly fine. So have all of the feelings you need to have and then—"

An explosive crash echoed from the second floor and reverberated across the hardwood. Nadia and Andras were on their feet, legs wide and ready to fight. They craned their necks towards the ceiling, listening and waiting. Then light footsteps sounded as something or someone made their way to the staircase. Nadia's chin lifted, and she caught Andras's eye, motioning for him to scent the air and mouthing, "Callum." Her canines were already elongated and ready to rip his throat out. Andras caught Callum's scent and I could feel his eyes and gums tingling as his own fangs descended, his pupils widening into hateful blackness.

The footsteps paused at the top of the staircase, and then like lightning something smashed into Andras, sending his body back, back, back until his head cracked against drywall. The sound of bones crunching rang out, along with Nadia's roar.

"Fuck!" Andras spat blood and got to his feet. He scanned the room. Nadia bared her teeth and jumped onto the table with catlike elegance. Callum came out of nowhere–a blur, an icy wind–and went for Nadia, but she was ready. With cat-like elegance, she backflipped off of the table, landing in a crouch. Callum appeared near the back wall, leaning against it like he had all the time in the world. He would have been handsome–olive skin, black hair, dark brown eyes–if it weren't for the bitterness twisting his features into something hideous and cruel. The psychotic, dead eyes. He wore a black suit and a skull cap, like he'd based his look off of a British gangster film from fifty years ago. His arms were folded across his chest. He sneered at Andras.

"Callum," Andras said, with an acidic bite. He took a step forward, "you look well."

"Given the circumstances," Callum spat. His accent was strange and old. He went on, "imagine waking up in a cement block like a bloody dinosaur and remembering that your partner and his pet put you there."

"Darling," Andras drawled, wiping dust from his arms, "let's not forget that you tried to kill us first. Some would say you kind of deserved it." Andras squared off his shoulders, chin high.

"Ah, there it is," Callum sang, "the arrogant bastard I once loved."

"Get on with it," Andras ground out.

Callum laughed performatively, letting his head fall back ever so slightly, like he was trying out for the role of villain in a community theater production. Andras glanced at Nadia, a portrait of amusement, as she rested on the table with her arms crossed over her chest, legs crossed at the ankles, and the faintest hint of a smile on her dark rose lips.

"Are you…dramatizing your own brand of evil?" Nadia asked, disbelieving, "you don't have to bloody exaggerate it. You are actually a fucking demon from hell, you narcissistic shitbag."

Callum's head whipped to Nadia. "Shut up, whore," he spat. "You won't be so clever after I rip your teeth out of your bloody head and make a fucking necklace out of them."

"Oh, Callum, you say ‘whore' like it's a bad thing." She shrugged, "I'm actually quite proud of my history. You, on the other hand," her black eyes fixed on him, cold and damning, "are a spoiled prick. And that is fucking tragic, considering how bloody old you are. I mean who lives this long without stumbling into a bit of self-reflection?"

The muscles in Callum's jaw flexed as he narrowed his darkening eyes on Nadia. The absolute hate that radiated from him seemed to seep into the space, eating up all of the light in the room, but Nadia didn't seem to notice or care. She examined her nails and sighed. Callum cracked his neck from side to side. In a flash, he stood face to face with Nadia, their noses nearly touching. Yet she didn't so much as move, didn't so much as blink. Callum's arm shot out, trying to grab Nadia by the throat, but she blocked it with her own arm and climbed him like a tree, positioning her legs around his neck and throwing her weight to the side, slamming his body to the ground. The entire house shook down to the foundation. She rolled away from him, hopped to her feet, and then sprinted for him, but Andras reached Callum first.

Andras's leg shot out, kicking Callum in the ribs and sending him smashing into the beautiful dining room table. Wood and debris exploded in all directions. Nadia was already there waiting when he landed, snatching him up by the hair and dragging him through the house.

"Remember this move, you son of a bitch?" she seethed in his ear.

Andras grabbed a broom from its place against the far wall and snapped it into two sharp stakes.

"Nadia!" he shouted, launching one of the stakes to her. She spun, catching it mid-air, careful to keep Callum's midnight black hair in her fist, his back arched, and she slammed the stake down on the center of his chest. It missed by just a fraction when Callum yanked free seconds before the tip of the stake hit true. Nadia cursed. The stake tip scratched down Callum's ribcage, ripping through his jacket and undershirt, leaving a faint blood-red line. Injured or not, Callum struck hard and fast before Nadia could react, grabbing her arm and bringing it down on his knee, cracking bone. Nadia shrieked. Then he smashed her cheek with a fist in a cobra-like strike. He snatched the stake from her loosened grip.

"Nooooo!" Andras roared, his fists clutched, as he began to move toward them.

Just before Andras reached them, Nadia managed to land a roundhouse kick to Callum's jaw. He stumbled back, and Andras was upon him, thrusting the other stake into Callum's back. A billowing howl escaped him as flesh tore, wood grazed bones, and blood sprayed. Callum stumbled and looked down at the splintered spear jutting out of the center of his chest. He turned to look at Andras, hurt flickering in his otherwise cold, empty eyes.

"I really didn't think you had it in you to do it twice," Callum gasped, reaching for the stake.

Andras relaxed his guard. Callum fell forward. Then, without warning, he whirled, headbutting Andras in the face, a horrible crunch sounded, and sent him sprawling back as blood gushed from his nose. Callum gripped the stake jutting out of his chest and growled as he ripped it free from his body, dark blood oozing from the wound and soaking his shirt. He tossed the blood-soaked and splintered stake at Andras's feet, baring his teeth. Even though I was looking out of Andras's eyes and I knew it was only a memory, I wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted to claw and kick away from him. A low growl started in Andras' chest as he looked up at his foe, his enemy, his former lover, and he shifted his weight to stand, but Callum whirled, nearly ripped the front door from the hinges, and disappeared into the night.

Andras dropped to his knees, cursing, "Fuck! Fuck!"

Nadia came to his side, crouching next to him and balancing on her heels. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "that couldn't have been easy for you, love."

"No, that's not it," Andras whispered. "I loved him once, but that feeling is long dead. I just…" He dragged his hands through his debris-flecked brown hair. "Fuck, we were so close to being rid of him. How did I bloody miss his heart ? Now he's out there, and we won't be able to relax, and Danny won't be safe until we—"

"Why am I not safe?"

A familiar voice, my voice, called from the doorway. Then shadows once again filled the room.