She left him standing in the center of her bedroom as she walked toward the kitchen. “You can’t keep showing up here every time I have a god damned nightmare, Cas. I’m fine.”
She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of wine.
“It’s three o’clock in the morning, Ava. A little early to start drinking, don’t you think?” He leaned his long, slender arms on the marble countertop, his green eyes glowing in the low light of the kitchen.
“Last I checked it was five o’clock somewhere. Besides, my house means I can do whatever the hell I want.” She poured herself a rather large serving in a long, skinny glass. Being around Cassius put her on edge.
For one, he was a vampire. It was pretty much common knowledge vampires couldn’t be trusted—evil, thirsty, old bloodsuckers.
Not to mention, her brother, Malcolm, was a vampire slayer.
She was still pretty new to the practice but... She hunted these things. Sometimes. On occasion anyway, when Mal needed backup.
“Speaking of terrible manners, aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” The way the light fell upon his features, he looked as if he was no older than she.
Ava wondered momentarily what his actual age was, then decided to take a drink instead. Knowing such things didn’t help anything.
“Fresh out of AB Negative at the moment.” She sat down on the barstool directly across from him.
He smirked. “I’m quite fond of a full-bodied Bordeaux.” His smile was both devious and charming. Enticing even.
“Help yourself. You do with everything else, why bother with pleasantries now.” Ava took another drink as Cassius glided over to the cabinets and pulled out an actual wine glass. He poured the liquid swiftly before swirling it around and inhaling its aroma expertly.
The very motion annoyed Ava, and she took another swig of her drink. Her mood was already starting to settle.
It’s not because he’s here. Not at all, she thought to herself.
“You seem to have quite a lot of nightmares.” His voice was tender, inviting.
Ava regarded him carefully. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen a lot of scary shit.” She shrugged as she pushed her short, brown hair back.
“I will stay until you fall back to sleep.” He said it definitively. As if it were a fact, solid and unmovable.
“That’s not necessary. I’m fine really. You don’t need to be here.” She drained the rest of her glass and set it on the counter next to the sink.
“Ava...” he started, but she just waved him off. She stood in the doorway of her bedroom and he remained on the other side of the counter, some invisible line drawn between them.
“Go home, Cas,” she said as she shut the door.
As if that would keep him away. She laid back in her bed, one eye open, and her hand on her stake. Just in case.
An hour passed and not a sound or movement persisted. Ava’s eyes grew heavy as she let herself fall into slumber alone, yet strangely dissatisfied.
Chapter Three
Ava sluggishly poured herself a cup of coffee as Connie shook her finger at her.
“All I’m saying is you need to settle down with a nice boy.”
Ava sighed. Constance Chen had two priorities in life. The first was to drive Ava and her brother absolutely crazy with her need to act like their mother, despite being the estate’s housekeeper, and the second was to play matchmaker. The woman was insufferable, yet neither she nor Mal could find it in their hearts to fire her.
She’d worked for their Aunt Becky for thirty years, up until her death five years ago. When Ava and her brother landed on their aunt’s doorstep ten years ago, Connie had treated them as if they were her own. Still, it didn’t mean Ava liked having a helicopter pseudo-parent at age twenty-five.
“Maybe I’ll just join a nunnery instead.” Ava poured creamer in her coffee and fixated on its swirls, the steam wafting into her senses. A good cup of coffee was always relaxing, putting her at ease.
Truth be told, she’d never been much of a java person, but then she’d met her friend and partner, Ember Stone. Ember was a psychic and a bona fide coffee addict. If it wasn’t for her, Ava would have never discovered the joys of potent, highly-caffeinated coffee, which she now deemed essential to her survival. Especially during nights when she couldn’t sleep.
“They would send you back immediately. You don’t listen well.” Connie put her hand on her hip. Before Ava could object, the door swung open to reveal a familiar face.
“Malcolm! Welcome home!” Connie’s voice changed immediately from concerned to joyful as Mal dropped his duffle bag on the floor.
Judging by his appearance, his trip hadn’t been as fruitful as it should have been.
Connie threw her arms around Mal, who had to bend over quite a few feet—Mal wasn’t tall by any means but Connie seemed to shrink with age.
Ava sipped her coffee and let out a breath. Her eyes met his. His only response was a gentle shake of his head. Ava’s heart sank.
Dammit. No leads.
“It's good to be back,” he said as Connie held him at a distance, regarding him warmly.
“I’ll get you some breakfast. Come, sit.” Her eyes lit up with happiness as she pushed Mal toward the barstool and started bustling about the kitchen.
“So, no leads?”
Mal’s shoulders fell. “It’s good to see you too, Ava.” His voice was gruff, defeated.
“Don’t harass your brother. I’m sure he’s very tired from his long trip,” Connie reprimanded. Ava rolled her eyes in response. “Forgive me, Mal. Coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.” Her voice was rich with sarcasm.
“That has nothing to do with it and you know it.” He ran his hand over his face, which sported the beginnings of a thick beard. “Trip wasn’t an entire waste, though.”
Ava waited for him to continue.
“Apparently, there is word that the big guys are moving toward this area. Something about a territory dispute,” Mal whispered. “Your boy Cassius’s name was mentioned.”
Mal’s gaze fixated on Ava with intent as he continued in normal tones, “Why don’t you two just get married already?” Connie said as pushed the eggs around in the skillet and Ava sighed. “I don’t even like Cas,” she whined.
“You could do far worse, child. He’s sophisticated, wealthy, good looking...” Connie started rattling off all of Cassius’s apparent charms.
“And he follows you around like a lost puppy. Sad, really,” Mal chimed in.
“It’s not going to happen. Ever. Drop it.” Ava set her mug down with more anger than she intended.
Connie placed the plate of omelet and bacon in front of Mal and ruffled his unkempt, dirty-brown hair.
His smile reached the corners of his eyes and Ava noted he looked more than just tired. He looked older.
How come Connie never prattles on to him to settle down?
The eleven years between them never really seemed as vast as it was. After the death of their parents, Mal had changed. While the will was clear—Aunt Becky would be their guardian—Mal was well over the age of needing one. Still, those first three years put quite a strain on their relationship, even if she understood now there was a reason.