Chapter 15

Charlotte Sanguinite

Robert's home is a four-bedroom house with a large yard that is well-maintained.

With Mano in my arms, I look around as I enter through the front door. A woman is waiting for us by the stairs, and she hurries over. She looks to be in her late fifties, and she smiles at me.

"You must be Miss Beaumont. I've prepared a room for you. I also took the liberty of setting up a litter box in your room and in two of the main areas of the house so that your cat will be comfortable, as well."

Robert wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Charlotte, meet Mrs. Mallory. She's the housekeeper. If you need anything, you can go to her. If you want to change something or the decor isn't to your liking, Mrs. Mallory will help you set things up according to how you want them."

I blink at him. "This is your home. Why would I change the decor?"

He gives me a sly smile before looking over at the beaming housekeeper. "Mrs. Mallory, did you put Charlotte in the room next to mine?"

"Of course," Mrs. Mallory nods. "I even got a catalog for some cat toys and houses so that Miss Beaumont can choose what she would like me to order."

"Order?" I feel dazed. "I don't need to order anything. I'm not very fussy, Mrs. Mallory. And I brought Mano's litter box—"

"Nonsense." Mrs. Mallory takes my bag from me. "It's about time Robert brought a woman home. I always say it's the woman who sets the tone of the house. This place has been needing a woman's touch for a long time."

"What?" I feel like I'm being bulldozed right now.

Mrs. Mallory is behaving as if Robert just brought home a wife rather than a guest. She's a shifter, as well, but I can't sense any hostility from her.

"I've prepared a nice lunch for both of you, but I'll run the dinner menu by you before I get started on it, Miss Beaumont."

Bewildered, I gape after her as she carries my bag up the stairs.

"Why is she treating me like that?"

"Like what?" Robert asks innocently just as Zeno comes rushing into the room. He paws at Robert's feet before coming to sniff me. His little tail starts wagging furiously as he recognizes my scent.

"Hello, Zeno!" I beam at him. "You look happy and healthy."

"Ever since Mrs. Mallory returned from vacation a few days ago, the two of them have become inseparable," Robert tells me.

Mano squirms in my arms, wanting to be released, and I drop her to the ground. Zeno pounces on her to investigate this new creature and receives a smack on his nose. It doesn't deter him, and the two pets are soon entangled in a tussle.

I'm not worried. I can tell when Mano feels threatened and when she's playing. Right now, my cat seems to have found herself a playmate.

"Mrs. Mallory seems nice," I comment. "A little strange, but sweet."

Robert chuckles. "Not every shifter has a hardened grudge against vampires. I told her about you last night; I wanted her to have a room ready for you. I wanted to share my bedroom with you, but Mrs. Mallory is a little old-fashioned about things like that before marriage, so…"

"So am I." I give him a narrow-eyed look. "Why would you think I would sleep in the same bed as you?"

He adopts the most affronted look he is able to muster. "How can you question my motivation? Do you think getting you in bed is the only goal I have in life? Did you even consider that perhaps I was concerned about your safety and felt that my room would be the safest—"

"Oh, save it." I can see the twinkle in his eyes.

"I am serious, though. If you want to make any changes to the house, feel free to do so."

The thought makes me feel a little awkward. "I'm just a guest."

"For now," Robert grins at me. "Will you walk into my parlor? Will you rest upon my little bed?"

As he quotes these two lines of "The Spider and the Fly" to me, I give him a suspicious look. "Yes to the parlor, but not to your bed."

He laughs uproariously. "Then we'll work on the second one while you get accustomed to the first. Come on, I'm sure Mrs. Mallory wants you to see the room she set up for you."

As I follow Robert upstairs, there's a small ball of anxiety in my chest. I made this decision to come here, to accept him. But will it work out? Or will I end up with my heart broken in the worst of ways? Robert has shown me with his actions that he cares about me, and I want to believe everything he is telling me. But after facing so much rejection my whole life, it's hard to bare my heart completely to anyone.

This is the first time I've wanted to try, though. Angie's warnings about my future being uncertain ring in my head, and I let out a shaky breath.

The Unknown, indeed.

It feels like I've launched myself off a cliff into the dark, raging sea below, with no knowledge of how to swim.

******

I couldn't exactly pack up my entire apartment and bring it with me. At the same time, I was terrified that Arabella might break in and destroy years of memories out of sheer vindictiveness. Robert convinced me to leave everything as it was, saying he'd arrange for someone to stay there and look after the place. So, I only packed some essentials, and Mano's things, plus a few packets of the blood that I got from a guy I bribed at the local blood bank.

I hid those from Robert. There was probably no need to keep them a secret, but I haven't exactly had a heart-to-heart with him about my dietary needs. I would rather not bring up that topic if I can avoid it. The small cooler I brought with me holds up to five packets; I just need to make sure I keep it stocked with ice at all times.

These past two days, Mrs. Mallory has been attentive and helpful. However, she seems insistent on treating me as if I'm the one who is supposed to run this household. It's overwhelming and stressful, and Robert is absolutely no help whatsoever. Every time I've tried to bring it up with him, he simply dances around the topic, telling me to do whatever I want to feel comfortable.

As I pull on a long-sleeved shirt and pants in an attempt to hide my bruises while I'm at work, I stare at the large contusion on my forehead and the gauze covering my cheek. I haven't had the strength to look at the claw marks yet. Robert has been tending to them for the past two days while I rested.

It's been getting colder outside, and I move my body slowly as I put on a jacket, one sleeve at a time. Am I ready for this?

I told Jazz someone tried to break in at the cafe, and Robert was smart enough not to get the broken lock changed. He did erase the security footage, of course, including the feeds from neighboring establishments.

So, right now, Jazz thinks I'm taking a couple days off because I'm dealing with the shock of the whole situation. She was more than happy to give me time to recover.

Today is the day that I plan to return to work, though.

"Ready?" Robert knocks on the door, and I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment before exhaling.

"Yeah."

He walks in with the first aid kit. "Are you sure you want to see it?"

"I should. I don't know how bad it is."

"It's healing quite nicely," he assures me. Still looking in the mirror, I take off the gauze with bated breath, convinced Robert is simply saying that to make me feel better.

My eyes widen in shock.

Since Arabella tossed boiling hot coffee on my face, I expected to see burns in addition to the claw marks. There are none. The claw marks are there, but the open flesh has begun to stitch itself together.

"H—How?" I stammer, touching the wounds. "I felt them the other morning. They were still raw."

Robert doesn't answer me.

"My healing—It's not this fast." I lean closer to the mirror. "I was so sure this would get infected or something."

"Maybe the antibiotics helped." Robert guides me to a chair. "Anyway, I don't think you need a heavy bandage today. That bruise is also looking better."

"You're right." Confusion is running rampant within me. I'm in awe. "It's been such a long time since I saw my skin heal so fast."

"What do you mean?" Robert asks, surprised. "I thought you were born without any of the typical vampire abilities."

I chuckle. "I had them until I was seven, I think. They suddenly started fading away, and within a week, I was more like a human than a vampire. Father was furious. He took me to a healer in our clan, but the man couldn't figure out what was wrong. It was just one of those things, I guess."

Robert cleans my wound. "Weird."

A bewildered laugh slips from my lips. "That's one way to put it."

However, as Robert places the new gauze on my cheek, I discreetly study his expression. He doesn't seem taken aback at all by my sudden bout of fast healing. Almost as if he expected it.

I shake off the fleeting thought because it's quite ridiculous. I don't know why I'm healing so quickly, but I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

When Robert is done, we go downstairs and see that Mrs. Mallory has set the table with a rather lavish breakfast. I agreed to come here for a couple of days, intending to keep a low profile. The kind of VIP treatment I've been on the receiving end of is startling. Mrs. Mallory expects me to have a say in everything that goes on in the house, and while it is sweet that she's trying to make me feel included, her intentions are quite obvious. She thinks I'm here to stay, and no matter how many times I tell her I'm just a guest, she doesn't seem to register my words.

We leave the house after breakfast. Robert drives me to the cafe. He works in the office across the road from it, so it makes sense, but I'm starting to feel as if I'm taking advantage of him. Not once in these past two days has he tried to make a pass at me. No inappropriate kisses or attempts to seduce me. His touches have been nothing short of professional. The only thing he seems to be interested in is taking care of me. He wants to feed me all the time and focus on my injuries.

I appreciate it, but it's making me wonder if his initial attraction to me has faded.

As he pulls into the parking lot of his building, Robert says, "Let me know if you get tired and want a break. Don't overdo anything."

He takes my hand in his and presses his lips to the back of it, making me flush.

"I'll be fine," I reassure him, trying not to show the effect he has on me. "I'm just making coffee."

However, his expression is uneasy, and I get the feeling that if he had his way, he'd lock me up in his house right now.

Jazz has already opened the cafe, and when she sees me enter, her jaw drops. "You didn't tell me you were coming in today!"

She rushes at me and envelops me in a hug. "Are you okay, Charlotte? You were so vague on the phone, and somebody had broken the lock, and—"

She's droning on while my heart begins to race. Even though everything is in order here at the cafe, I can't help but recall the attack. I clutch Jazz for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to flee this place. I can still feel the burn of the hot coffee splashing on my face, my ears ringing with Arabella's cruel laughter.

"Charlotte?" Jazz squeezes my hand, her eyes studying my face. "What's wrong?"

"I need to sit down," I mumble. My head is spinning, my face is throbbing, and a feeling of suffocation is gripping me.

Jazz guides me to one of the chairs. "I'll get some water."

She hurries to the fridge at the other end of the cafe, and I take the few seconds I get to try and breathe through the panic attack. My hands are no longer shaking when Jazz returns, and while my heart beat is unsteady, I'm beginning to calm down.

"Here." She presses the cold bottle of water into my hands. "Drink it. You'll feel better."

I take a few gulps, the cold liquid soothing.

Jazz waits for a moment before saying, "You said it was an attempted break-in, but you lied, didn't you? You were attacked."

I had a story cooked up about the bruise on my forehead and the gauze on my cheek, but I find myself nodding.

Jazz's lips tighten, and I see anger in her eyes. "Did he put his hands on you? Why didn't you tell me? I would have told Dad to go to the cops."

"I fought him off, and then Robert showed up. The only damage was to the door, so there was no point in calling the police."

Jazz gives me a disbelieving look. She questions me further, but my answers are all pretty much the same, not offering a lot of information. The conclusion she comes to is a sound one.

"From now on, Dad says we're going to have two people when we're closing the cafe, and we're changing the time to 7:00 p.m., except for weekends. I've reassigned the shifts, so either Gina or Shelby should be with you when you close up."

I feel relieved. Human casualties are a big problem for the supernatural world because people start asking questions. Even my former clan mates wouldn't be so foolish as to attack me with a human witness.

The rest of the day is quiet. I find myself relaxing as I get busy with work. A few of the regular customers ask me about the injury to my face, but I explain it away lightly.

Later in the afternoon, as the rush dwindles down, a group of women walks in. I'm in the middle of talking to Gina about Mano's pregnancy when the cold energy brushes against my skin. My head whips to the side, and I see three unfamiliar faces.

From the way the women are watching me, small smirks on their faces, this is no coincidence.

"Gina," I begin, getting ready to ask her to take care of these customers, but the oven timer sounds, and she hurries off to take out the muffins, leaving me alone with the vampires. There are still a few other customers around, so I don't think the plan is to attack me, but they're clearly up to something.

I paste a smile on my face. "Hello, can I get you ladies something?"

They place their orders, and then one of them says, "Bring them to our table."

Tense, I prepare their coffees and carry them over to where they are sitting. I expect something to happen, but they say nothing, just taking the drinks from me. After a while, they pay and leave. As I go and collect their cups, I confirm that they haven't been touched. Throughout their time at the cafe, they were watching me, not even pretending to drink.

My hands unsteady, I take the untouched coffees and dump them in the sink before placing the cups in the dishwasher.

The whole incident has me feeling on edge. They came here to watch me, and they wanted me to know it. But why?

If I thought this was a singular incident, I'm proven wrong. Over the next couple of days, the cafe becomes a popular attraction among my kind. It's the same thing over and over again. They come, they order, and then they watch me for the good part of an hour before they leave, their drinks untouched.

"This is the third day in a row!" Jazz looks annoyed as she watches me drain the cups. "Why are people ordering coffee when they just want to waste it?!"

I'm silent.

This place that was once a haven for me is turning into a bleak form of hell. I'm growing more and more nervous and making mistakes at work. I've broken three cups in the past couple of days, and when these special customers show up, I find myself messing up even more. I can't help it. I try my best not to go into the back alley by myself at any time, waiting for Robert to show up before I go to throw out the trash. He's begun to notice that something is wrong, but I don't want to tell him about this.

I already rely on him for a lot of things, and I don't want to become accustomed to it.

"Charlotte, you okay?" Jazz places her hand on my forehead with no warning. "You are really pale. In fact, you haven't been looking too good lately. If you need more time off—"

"I'm okay." I shake my head, tightening my hands on the cloth I'm holding and glancing at a table in the corner. There are two males sitting there, smirking at me.

Jazz glances at the entrance as the door opens, and she winks at me. "Maybe you should take a break now. Your boyfriend is here."

My face feels hot as I turn to greet Robert.

"I'll have a donut and a beef sandwich." He grins at me, clearly smug from overhearing the boyfriend comment.

Before I can say anything, his smile fades. He looks over his shoulder at the two vampires, who are no longer smirking. The look of unease on their faces is evident as they quickly exit the cafe.

Jazz scowls. "We need to start banning these idiots! They keep wasting coffee!"

"What's going on?" Robert looks between us, and Jazz replies furiously.

"These weirdos have started coming in, ordering coffee, not drinking it, and leaving! It's such a waste of resources. They could just pay for a cup to pay it forward if they don't want to drink it!"

She storms off, and Robert turns his attention to me, his face grim. "Since when have vampires been showing up here?"

"Ever since I came back to work." My hands are shaking. I try to hide them behind the counter, but nothing misses Robert's attention.

He reaches across the counter and takes my hands in his. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His voice is calm.

As I look at him, I know the real reason why.

"I thought—I thought you might think that I knew them or that I called them here. But I didn't! They just stare at me the whole time. They don't say anything to me. It's as if they just want me to know that they're watching me. But I really don't know them, Robert. I prom—"

"I trust you," he cuts me off seamlessly.

My mouth feels dry as I stare at him. "I don't understand why they're coming here. I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall. I'm scared to go out back to throw out the trash or be in the cafe by myself. I—"

Anger flickers in Robert's eyes. "If you were so terrified, you should have come to me, Charlotte! You haven't recognized even one of them?"

"No."

"Is there any way I can see their faces?"

I know what he's asking, and I press my lips together. "I don't think Jazz will be okay with you looking through our security footage, but I'll tell her I need to talk to you in private or something. The monitor is in the back office. Just give me a minute to see if I can take my break."

I move away from the counter to go find Jazz in the kitchen. She is stewing.

"Hey, do you mind taking over for a bit? Robert needs to talk to me in private, so we'll be in the back office."

My voice is casual, and Jazz straightens up. "Sure."

As she walks past me, she grins. "Just how much ‘talking' will you two be doing?"

"Shut up, Jazz," I mutter, and she laughs.

"You're such a prude," she teases me. I don't take her words as an insult, knowing she enjoys trying to get under my skin every now and then. Sometimes I wonder, if things had been different, if Arabella and I would have shared a similar relationship.

Shaking off the thought, I gesture toward Robert from the doorway, and he follows me into the office. Making sure the door is locked, I search through the recordings. I start from my first day back.

"There." I pause the screen, pointing at the women. "I don't know them."

Robert takes out his phone and snaps a picture of them. "Who else?"

I take him through the footage from the last couple of days, and he takes pictures of everyone I point out. However, he isn't content.

"Can you show me the day after you were attacked?"

I glance up at him. "Why?"

"Just humor me."

"It's going to take longer because I don't know who we're looking for," I confess, pulling up that date in the system. Robert is leaning over my shoulder, his hot breath against my neck. It's already hard enough to focus with his large frame so close to mine, but his breath against my skin makes me tremble. Fortunately, he hasn't noticed my reaction to him.

Lately, he isn't picking up on these things, and I'm grateful for that. I may not be sleeping in the same bed as him but being under the same roof has shown me that Robert likes touching me. He's not inappropriate by any means—just a small graze of his hand against mine, entwining our fingers together, playing with my hair.

These are small acts that could be adorable if they didn't get me so worked up. His touch is lethal to me, and he seems to be completely oblivious to the fact. My hand tightens around the mouse as I move the cursor across the screen. My nipples are tightening under my blouse, and I feel foolish for reacting like this to nothing more than his breath on my neck.

Trying to focus on the screen, I play the recording from the day after the attack. It shows Jazz coming in and looking surprised at the broken lock. She immediately steps back outside and pulls out her cell phone. I remember getting her call and explaining what happened, the clean version for a human. She then inspects everything and places another phone call. Half an hour later, her father enters and hugs her as if to calm her down. As customers start coming in, so does a locksmith, and the lock is changed.

I know most of the morning crowd. In business districts such as this one, we usually have repeat customers. However, as the footage plays on, my eyes catch someone. "There!"

I pause the video, pointing at two extraordinarily good-looking men.

"Those are vampires."

I just know. As I press the play button, I watch them scan the cafe for someone. They purchase some coffee and sit, their eyes roaming around the place. Neither of them touches their drinks. As they leave, they toss them in the trash can by the door. They had disposable cups.

I frown, my lips pressing into a thin line.

I'm about to switch to the video for the next day when Robert stops me with a touch of his hand. "Not yet. Play the whole thing at double the speed."

I do so, and as the customers thin out and it gets dark outside, I see Shelby wiping the counter as the door opens.

A man in a luxurious trench coat walks in.

As he approaches the counter, he looks up, right at the security camera, and I go still, my breathing shallow. "R—Robert. Robert, that's—"

I can't get the words out of my mouth as I stare at my father's face looking straight at me through the screen.