I was still thinking about the exhibition when I got home and ate dinner.
I could go, right? No one had come looking for me so far. If I was lucky, they’d moved on to something else and wouldn’t even be thinking about me anymore.
Oh, to hell with it, I needed a night out. Just one night. I rifled through my clothes and found my best pair of jeans and a pretty cream blouse. I ran a brush through my hair, which used to be longer but was now shoulder length. I also bleached two strands at the front as something of a disguise, but also because I thought it made me look like Rogue from X-Men.
When I reached the gallery, it wasn’t too busy. I paid the entry at the door and stepped inside, gladly accepting the complimentary glass of Prosecco from a smartly dressed waiter. The work of several artists was being displayed, but one collection, in particular, caught my attention. The style reminded me of the expressionists, and I stood admiring a painting of a Japanese garden.
“Are you the artist?” a man asked. He’d come to stand next to me, and I cast him a quick side glance. He was attractive, probably in his forties, and wore a suit.
“Me? No. I was just admiring it.”
“Oh. I thought you might be one of the artists,” he explained with a smile. “You have the look.”
I guessed he was referring to my somewhat eccentric white hair strands. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, about to move on when he asked, “Can I get you another drink?”
Was he chatting me up? My stomach twisted up into knots as I gave a polite smile and declined, “No, but thank you for the offer.”
He looked a little crestfallen when I walked away. I’d thought I was ready to interact with people, but I felt completely out of practice. I wasn’t ready to accept drinks and flirt with a sexy, older businessman. I needed a few more practice outings first.
I moved on to the next painting, and the gallery began to fill up. I stood back and took in the people. Most were well-dressed, professional types. It was a new habit of mine to scan any room I found myself in, always on the alert for possible danger. The man who’d offered to buy me a drink had moved his attention to a leggy brunette in a blue dress.
My attention lingered on them when a tingle skittered across the back of my neck. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in months, not since I left Tribane, and I’d always thought of it as my very own sixth sense, a little of my mother’s magic warning me of something unexpected. Or possible danger.
My eyes went to the door of the gallery as it opened, and a man walked in. A man I recognised instantly.
Finn Roe.
Panic seized me. What on earth was he doing here? And how the hell had he found me? I hadn’t been going by my real name. I was using the alias Alexa Caldwell to avoid detection. Had he come on a mission for the DOH? Was he supposed to capture and kill me to prevent any vampires from gaining the power in my blood?
I hid behind a group of people standing by one of the paintings, planning my exit strategy as I watched Finn scan the room. I needed to get out of there and fast. He was still standing close to the entrance, so I decided to look for a rear exit. I walked swiftly through the door labelled ‘Staff Only’ and hurried down a long corridor. I swore under my breath when I couldn’t find a way out.
“You avoiding me, Missy?” a familiar voice asked.
My pulse pounded as I turned and found Finn standing there, his lips curved into a wry smirk.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed, narrowing my gaze at him. My panic increased. I was a deer caught in the headlights with no route of escape.
“So, no hug then?” he asked, amused. I wanted to slap the amusement right off his face.
“I’m leaving, and if you try to follow me, I’ll call the police,” I threatened, doing my best to keep my voice even. Finn and I had been on the same side for a brief period before I left the city, but he’d never one hundred percent earned my trust. Not to mention, I hadn’t seen him in months. I had no idea what he’d been up to in the interim.
His expression sobered. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”
“I don’t care what you have to say. I care about how the hell you managed to find me.”
“I have my ways,” he answered evasively.
I crossed my arms in suspicion. “I think it goes without saying that when a person leaves their home city and doesn’t tell their friends or family where they’ve gone that they don’t want to be found.”
Finn stepped closer, his eyes wandering over me. “Just because you don’t want to be found, doesn’t mean that there aren’t people who want to find you. You should be glad it was me who got to you first and not one of the vamps.”
I stared him down. So, my wishful thinking hadn’t come to fruition. They hadn’t moved on to something else and forgotten about me. I studied Finn. Could I possibly convince him to go home and pretend he’d never found me? Judging from the determined look in his eyes, probably not.
He wore a black jacket with a tight grey T-shirt and dark jeans. I tried not to focus on how the T-shirt clung to his muscular chest. His eyes wandered over me, too, before coming to rest on my mouth. A lone butterfly flitted through my stomach.
What could I say? Despite everything, it had been six long, lonely months.
“I like the new look,” he said, breaking the quiet.
“Thanks. Your opinion really matters to me,” I deadpanned, pausing a moment before I went on. “Are you alone, or did someone come with you?”
“I’m all alone.”
“Good. That means you can go back to Tribane and forget you ever saw me here.”
He took another step toward me, stopping when he was only inches away. His minty breath washed over me when he asked, “Now why would I want to do that?”
I met his gaze. I had no other option but to beg. “You know what I am, Finn. If the vampires find me ...” My voice was desperate, and his expression softened.
“Your secret’s safe with me. I’m not going to tell anyone where you are, but I need your help.”
A member of staff entered the corridor and eyed us both. “You can’t be here. This area is for staff only.”
Finn turned to him and smoothly slid his arm around my waist. I tried not to fixate on the warmth of his body or the press of his palm against my hip. “Our apologies. We lost our way searching for the bathroom.”
“No problem. The bathrooms are to the left of the entrance.”
“Thank you,” Finn replied politely before guiding me back out into the gallery. “There’s a café across the street where we can talk.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, deftly extricating myself from his hold.
“It’s a very public spot.”
“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it right here. But first, I actually do need to use the bathroom.”
Finn eyed me suspiciously. “Fine. I’ll walk you there.”
Not wanting to arouse his suspicions further, I didn’t argue. Finn stopped short of the ladies’ bathrooms. “I’ll wait here. Don’t be long.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” I reassured him before hurrying inside. Praise the Lord, there was a window! One woman was washing her hands and shot me a weird look as I pushed it open and used my newfound upper body strength to pull myself up. Six months was a long time to spend completely alone, and I’d used the time to get strong. You’d be surprised by the amount of cardio and bodyweight exercises a girl could do within the confines of her apartment. My body was far less soft and far more toned now. Being what I was, strength was important. Plus, it was an added bonus that I could eat as much Turkish Delight as I wanted without putting on any weight.