Chapter 8

Robert Montgomery

I have always been one to take risks. Whether it came to setting up a new business or going after the monsters that took my mother from me and had planned to take my birthright from me. I've had to fight to gain everything in my life: this status as Alpha, my position as the CEO of one of the most technologically advanced companies in the world, and the respect I now command.

At each step, even when taking a risk, I've always weighed the pros and cons.

But when it comes to Charlotte, it feels like my brain stops functioning.

That addicting scent of hers, that sweetness under the ice, it draws me in and makes me make impulsive decisions.

I should not be sitting here with her like this, watching the way she can barely contain her excitement. It's not innocence, like I first thought, but an appreciation for the small things. She makes me look at the world through her eyes, and I like what I see.

I thought she'd figure out the drink she ordered had alcohol in it, and it took me some time to realize that not only did Charlotte not recognize the taste of alcohol, she was also getting drunk off it. A vampire getting drunk from human booze is the strangest sight I've ever seen.

Drunk Charlotte smiles more, laughs more openly, and likes to touch me. She also gets this trace of heavy sadness in her eyes when she speaks of the past, and I don't want her to remember it. She was obviously mistreated in her clan. It shouldn't be surprising, considering vampires barely tolerate any faults in their peers, but I would have thought her family unit would have treated her better. As if I'm one to talk. My own father pulled no small number of strings to try to get me killed.

As Charlotte's mouth presses against mine, I feel weak against her.

I could have been more forceful when I realized she was beginning to get tipsy, but the idea of denying her anything didn't sit right with me. And now she's kissing me so sweetly, my skin on fire as she caresses my neck.

This woman is dangerous, I realize belatedly as my mouth moves against her soft one. She makes me greedy for something I should never desire. I should have stayed away from her.

My fingers dig into her arms, wanting more.

Charlotte pulls away, a smug expression on her face. She looks like a cat who got the cream. Of all the words I could use to describe her, the one most prominent in my mind is "adorable." My heart is beating wildly in my chest, my wolf nudging me in approval.

Mine.

The desire is torn from my soul as my hand reaches out to grasp her by the back of the neck and pull her toward me. I should get her drunk more often. The wary woman who watches me secretly and tries her best to push me away is replaced by this vixen. This time when our lips meet, I angle her head to get better access to her mouth. The heat between us is electrifying, her proximity burning my skin, my heart. I need her. I want to possess her.

As I lick the seam of her lips, Charlotte lets out a quiet moan.

The sound rouses me.

This is not the place for any of this.

I pull back and glance around. Nobody is paying much attention to us, but the server at the bar is putting Charlotte's drink on the tray and is about to approach us.

I sit her down firmly in her chair, finding it difficult to ignore the way her lower lip sticks out in annoyance.

"You're very confident when you're drunk," I say, running my finger over her cheek. "I might have to keep you this way."

She just scoffs before forgetting all about me when her drink arrives.

"No more." I look at the server, my voice hard. "Cut her off now. We'll take a bottle of water for her and the bill."

I try to snatch Charlotte's drink, but she's faster, holding it out of my reach and drinking it happily.

I try to keep my voice even. "Charlotte, that has alcohol in it. You're already really drunk. Why don't you give it to me?"

She studies me and then gets up and moves two seats away. My eyes widen fractionally at the cheekiness of her actions.

"Charlotte…"

I get up. Without warning, she quickly tilts her glass back and gulps down the remaining drink.

I gape at her, and she grins.

"Don't act so smug," I say as I sink back into my chair. "That's going to come back and bite you in the ass tomorrow morning."

"I'll be fine," she beams. "I'm just going to go and get another…"

She should be falling over her feet by now, but I guess she does have some level of tolerance. She's a happy drunk, not a loud one, but a somewhat perverted one, too. That particular aspect of her drunk personality is made clearer as she walks past me and whispers, "You're also welcome to bite my ass if you want."

I've never been one of those people who gets flustered easily, but drunk Charlotte seems to have a knack for making me feel that way.

I grab her wrist, my voice hoarse. "No more drinks. I'm taking you home."

"My home or yours?" She winks at me.

I stare at her, my pants feeling tight and uncomfortable. "I should have sent that last drink back."

How that one drink managed to make her even more bold, I don't know. But she seems to be getting progressively worse, and I need to get her out of here rather than enjoy it.

I manage to pay the bill, and with one hand firmly around Charlotte's, I walk her out of there.

"So, where to next?" she asks brightly.

I have to press my lips together to keep the laughter from spilling out. It's taking every ounce of self-control not to whip out my phone and record her. Once she's sober, she won't believe she ever did or said any of this. The way she's behaving is such a contrast from the woman I know.

"I'm taking you home," I tell her, tucking her arm in mine. "Your home, so you can sleep off the alcohol."

"You don't even know where I live," she chuckles.

"Yes, I do," I reply simply, trying to focus on the footpath rather than the warmth of the woman glued to my side. Even drunk, she smells wonderful.

My car is parked outside my office building, and I make sure Charlotte is strapped in before I begin driving.

She's being quiet now, and when I look at her, she has a pensive expression on her face, one that sparks a hint of concern within me. "Charlotte?"

"You don't like me, do you?"

"What?" I ask, confused.

She sighs. "It sucks being like this. I can't be with anyone."

I can't follow her train of thought. Nothing she's saying is making much sense to me. How she went from happy to sad has me baffled.

"What do you mean, you can't be with anyone?" I turn the car onto one of the side streets to avoid the traffic.

"Nothing," She smiles and looks away.

She seems to be slowly sobering up. Remarkable. It isn't that she doesn't possess the metabolism that wolves and vampires have that makes us immune to human alcohol, but that hers is simply a little slower than ours. When she glances at me, my theory solidifies. Her eyes are growing sharper, more aware.

I pull up in front of her building, and when she gets out of the car, she stumbles. I'm out of my seat and by her side in an instant. "I'll take you to your door."

"I can walk," she insists, but her gait is unsteady. She sinks back into the seat and looks at me. "I'm really okay. I just feel a little dizzy."

I crouch by her side. "Let me bring you inside and make you some coffee."

She lifts her gaze toward her building. "I—"

Before she can say anything further, two things happen at the same time. Charlotte stiffens, and I catch an icy scent that can only belong to a vampire. Charlotte is looking at something, and when I turn my head to follow her gaze, my eyes squint, but I see no one.

My senses are sharp. I know exactly when someone is watching me. I'm having the same familiar feeling from a few days ago when I was standing outside the animal shelter where Charlotte volunteers. Either somebody is stalking me or somebody is watching her.

I straighten up and look around.

The scent is beginning to fade. Whoever it was must have realized both of us detected their presence.

My voice is careful. "Does anyone know where you live?"

Charlotte meets my gaze, and I see the moment she understands what I'm talking about. She shakes her head. "This apartment is under my human name, Beaumont. Nobody should know. If they did…" She hesitates before continuing. "There are a lot of people in the clan who would like nothing better than for me to suffer. If they knew where I was, they wouldn't have let me live in peace for this long."

I'm silent for a moment, and then I murmur, "Whoever it was, they're gone now. I think I'm going to hang around for a bit to make sure you don't get any surprise visitors."

"You don't have to do that," Charlotte exclaims, but I see the relief in her eyes.

"Just for a little while," I assure her. "Come on."

As we head inside, I keep looking around. Whoever was watching us left the moment he or she realized that we noticed. It bothers me that a vampire is hanging around Charlotte's building. In any other scenario, I would assume that this was pre-planned, or that it was someone Charlotte was meeting, but that is no longer the case. She doesn't have any contact with her kind. Also, the report Harry gave me about the vampires who attacked me revealed that Charlotte had fought them off and given them some serious injuries.

No, this isn't something Charlotte planned. It could be that someone has figured out where she lives. But if they have—my eyes move toward the building—they would have no problem locating her apartment and breaking in.

My wolf is watchful; a growl rumbles in my chest at the idea of a threat to this woman.

Mine.

My wolf is rarely vocal, and this is the first time it's laying a claim so blatantly. That is something I'll have to deal with later.

Charlotte lives on the sixth floor, and when she begins to open her door, I notice the security system. Whoever set it up did a damn good job of it. I can't smell anyone's scent aside from hers, which means nobody has come to her apartment.

She flicks on the lights, and I hear a disgruntled meow. Mano is sitting in the doorway of the small entrance hall, and when she sees me, she stands up, stretches, and then trots over, completely ignoring Charlotte. She rubs herself against my legs before sniffing my chewed up shoes with a lot of interest.

I crouch down to pet her. "Hey, girl."

She purrs loudly.

"Hussy," Charlotte scoffs, amusement in her voice. "She's just flirting with you. Completely shameless."

Mano's tail is straight as she licks my palm and then proceeds to sprawl herself across my shoes.

"Just take them off," Charlotte advises, removing her own and placing them on a shoe rack. "I only wear slippers in the apartment. Easier to keep it clean."

I take off my shoes, curious now about the place she calls home. It's not a small apartment by any means, and as I look around, I notice cameras set up at different angles in the main rooms that I can see. There is also a balcony outside.

"This place belonged to Edgar Brown, didn't it?" I ask idly. My research on Charlotte's background was quite extensive.

Charlotte is quiet for a moment, then she nods. "Nobody would let a fifteen-year-old rent an apartment. I met him in a grocery store, around the block, actually. I was working there. My second job. I didn't have a place to sleep that night, and he saw me talking to this guy who was telling me he had an extra room." Her lips curve at the memory. "Edgar drove him off and scolded me. Anyway, he told me to come stay at his apartment. He had a bad leg, so all I had to do was clean up, do his grocery shopping, small things like that. He gave me my own room. He also tutored me in my classes when I needed help. I couldn't cook, either, and he taught me." I can hear the trace of grief in her voice. "He passed away three years ago. I didn't even know he had willed the apartment to me. I never got to thank him for everything he did for me."

I doubt she would be telling me all this if she weren't still a little drunk. Sober Charlotte is quite private.

"You mattered to him." There are still pictures of Edgar, and of the two of them, on the small fireplace mantel, and a cane that could only belong to an elderly man leaning behind the front door. She kept parts of him, a man who took her under his wing at a time when she was most vulnerable. "I guess he wanted to make sure that you were taken care of when he was gone. He cared about you."

"He did." Charlotte's voice is filled with love. "He was the best part of my life."

When I glance at her, she's wiping her eyes. I automatically feel guilty. "Are you—"

"I'll make us some coffee. I think I'm still a little drunk," she says hastily, turning her back to me and heading into the kitchen.

I follow after her, becoming curious when I see a blanket and pillow on the long couch in the living room. "You sleep out here?"

"What?" Charlotte takes two mugs from the shelf. "Sleep where?"

"On the couch," I reply, leaning against the door jamb.

"Oh." She avoids my eyes. "Sometimes."

She clearly doesn't want to divulge more information, and I choose to mind my own business.

As she prepares the coffee, the silence between us isn't awkward. Her gait isn't completely even, but she has definitely begun to sober up.

"I guess you won't be having a hangover in the morning," I murmur, watching as she bunches her hair in her hands and winds it around into a bun. The smooth skin of her nape makes my eyes linger.

Charlotte gives me a look, and it's filled with annoyance. "You knew that drink had alcohol in it, didn't you?"

I grin.

"You could have warned me."

"I tried, but you refused to listen to anything I had to say," I insist, chuckling. "A drunk Charlotte sure is handsy, you know."

"Shut up," Charlotte mutters under her breath, grabbing a chopstick from the counter and piercing her bun with it. "I'm never going anywhere with you again. You're such a jerk."

"How is this my fault?" I make my way over to her. "I kept telling you to stop, but you wanted more—"

"I thought it was iced tea!" she bursts out, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of red. "All you had to do was say, ‘Charlotte that has alcohol,' and I would have stopped!"

"Sure you would have. You were already drunk after the first one."

She gives me a nasty look. "You have an excuse for everything, don't you?"

"Most of the time," I agree pleasantly. "I also didn't realize you could get drunk off the stuff humans make."

"Defective, remember?" Charlotte rolls her eyes, then turns on the coffee machine. "I get drunk quickly, but it's not like my metabolism is as slow as a human's. I sober up pretty fast. An hour or so. It's weird. I've only ever tried beer, and I didn't like it. Based on that experience, I thought all alcoholic drinks tasted like pee."

Her description makes me snicker. "Now, how would you know what pee tastes like?"

"I'm hazarding a guess," she says as she shrugs. "But I liked the Long Island iced tea. I should learn how to make one. I can have it when I'm alone."

"Call me over when you do," I grin.

My smile broadens when she mutters something under her breath. Teasing Charlotte is slowly becoming one of my favorite activities.

When she turns her back to me, I can sense that the silent treatment has begun.

"Now, now." I lean my back against the counter she's working on. "I'll tell you next time."

"There's not going to be a next time." She shoots me a look that is part sulky, part grumpy, and makes me want to kiss it away.

The kiss.

I'm sure she remembers it, but she hasn't mentioned it. I could always bring it up and incite a reaction from her. But as my eyes fall on the boiling coffee, my wolf advises against it. I've already got one prominent scar; I don't need to add to it.

However, something strikes me.

"The vampires who attacked me, they injected me with liquid wolfsbane. How did you get it out of me?"

Charlotte freezes, and her tone turns cagey. "Why would you think I had anything to do with that?"

I straighten up. "What did you do, Charlotte?"

She wets her lips. "Nothing. I really don't want to talk about this."

I am about to say something when she quickly adds, "The coffee is ready. Hand me that mug, will you?"

I reach out and turn off the machine. "Charlotte." My voice is serious. "What did you do?"

When she looks up at me, I see a trace of fear in her eyes, and suddenly I remember that sensation of ecstasy in my body, somebody's mouth against my neck, the burning pleasure.

I know what she did.

And it shakes me to my core.

"You sucked it out of me?" I breathe.

She takes a step back, the fear in her eyes intensifying. "I was just trying to save you, I promise. I wasn't trying to do anything else. Your organs would have begun to shut down. I—I didn't know what else to do."

I'm not angry.

If anything, I'm shocked.

I remember the feeling of her hot mouth against my neck, the arousal that burned my veins as a result.

"I spat it out." Charlotte takes another step back, and I dimly realize that I've begun to cover the distance between us. "Sh—Shifter blood is very addictive. I've never tasted it before. I just removed the poison as much as I could…"

My wolf is pleased. I don't know why. It's prowling inside of me, unable to stop. I sense its burning desire.

Charlotte's back is pressed against the counter now, and I can smell her fear. She has nothing to fear from me, but I guess she hasn't realized it yet. I'm not capable of harming this vampire with the fierce eyes and soft heart.

"How did I taste?"

The wolf is at the forefront now.

My voice is low as I caress the side of her neck, my body pressing against hers so that she is effectively caged.

"Wh—What?" Charlotte is frozen in place.

"Did you like how I tasted?" I ask, watching a blush form on her neck where my fingers are touching.

"I…" Her eyes are growing unfocused. I lower my head, feeling my teeth sharpen.

"Yes?" I ask, slowly glancing back up at her.

As soon as her lips part, I graze the sharp edge of my teeth against the side of her neck, and she whines. It's not a sound completely borne from terror or fear. I can smell her desire, thick in the air.

The little vampire isn't immune to me.

That pleases me, and my tongue darts out, leaving a little lick on the side of her neck. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to bite down. My whole body goes still in an attempt to regain control. But my wolf is pushing, adamant.

I've never seen it behave like this before. It's trying to take over my body, to push its own will.

And it terrifies me.

I'm losing control.