Dearest Ivie

Page 9

The exhale he let out was long and slow. “I’m kind of running low on time.”

“In what way?” Ivie was very aware of her heart skipping a beat. “As in…you’re leaving Caldwell?”

There was a pause. “Yes. I am.”

Ivie let herself fall back against the cushions. “Where are you going? How far away is it? As long as it isn’t the Old Country, we can long-distance things. I mean, if we get that far.” When he didn’t reply, she cursed. “You’re going back to the Old Country.”

“I’m so sorry. I hate this. I really do.”

Yeah, wow. That kind of distance was a deal breaker. Bi-coastal would have been tough. But across the ocean? There was no dematerializing back and forth over the Atlantic, and planes were dangerous given that they had to travel at night only. A delay due to weather or mechanical issues could be deadly.

“I’m really sorry, Ivie.”

“Me, too.” She took a deep breath. “What takes you back there? Family? Or business. Or…”

“It’s a family thing.”

“An arranged mating?” As she blurted that, she cursed again. “Okay, that’s not appropriate. It’s none of my business—”

“There isn’t another female. Trust me. That’s not it.”

“I’m glad.” She moved the blanket over her knees. “If I have to lose you, I’d rather it not be to anyone else. On that note, how much time do we have? Is your plane ticket bought yet?”

“The, ah, precise night isn’t on the calendar. But it looks like—well, from what I’ve been told about a month. I’ve got some things to wrap up here and then…you know, I’m gone.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this.”

“Say what?”

She picked at a frayed thread on the blanket. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Oh, God, Ivie.” His voice grew hoarse. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

“No chance for a change of plans, then?” she joked.

“It’s not up to me, I’m afraid.”

They both grew quiet. And when she couldn’t stand it one moment longer, she frowned. “What’s that beeping in the background?”

“Sorry, I’ll turn it off. It’s just a timer.”

“What’s the countdown for?”

“Armageddon.”

“Lot of firepower in your house, then.”

He laughed a little. “I want to ask you something.”

“If it’s how to dismantle a bomb, I can’t help you there. I’m also not good with recipes, house plants, and anything that has to do with pets. I killed the one betta fish I had growing up within nights of getting him, and I am no better with things that come in pots as opposed to tanks or bowls. When it comes to keeping things alive, vampires are my only skill.”

Now that laugh of his was more the way she liked it, deep and rolling. “Well, it’s good to know your strengths and weaknesses.”

“I agree. It cuts down on the bad surprises in life. So what do you want to ask me?”

“Go on a trip around the world with me.”

Ivie blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Around the world. With me. Before I have to leave.”

“This has to be a figurative proposition, not a literal one, right?”

“What time does your shift start tomorrow?”

“Not until eight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six. It’ll be dark enough, and we’ll have almost two hours. I won’t tell you where we’re going, it’ll be a surprise.”

Ivie smiled. “It’s a date.”

“That’s right. A date, dearest Ivie. See you then.”

Chapter Five

The following evening, Ivie waited inside her apartment building’s vestibule, that now-familiar prickling anticipation lighting her body and her mind up. The night was frosty and clear, the kind of thing where the snowpack was going to squeak under your boots, the moonlight turned everything blue, and you had to wonder, if the earth could get this frigid, how the hell cold must space be?

Taking out her phone, she checked the time. Five of. And no texts or calls to cancel.

“Houston,” she said to the window she was staring out of, “we have a go. Assuming there isn’t a—”

And there he was. Just a little early. In that big car of his. Was it a Bentley? Yup.

Ivie broke free of the building like she was released from prison, and even the shock of the below-zero air on her face didn’t dim her happiness.

Silas got out from behind the wheel on the far side. “Good evening.”

“It is now.”

He came around the hood like he was going to open her door, but instead, he held his arms wide and wrapped her in an embrace.

“You always smell so good,” she said into yet another cashmere sweater.

Tonight’s was navy blue. His slacks were the same dark gray. And his black overcoat was made of a wool so fine, it had the nap of suede.

“Let’s get you in where it’s warm.”

After he settled her into the passenger seat, he went around once again and got in with her.

“You ready?”

“I am.” She smiled at him. “Although I would like to point out that unless this can pull a DeLorean, we shouldn’t try anything transatlantic.”

“A DeLorean?”

“The professor’s time machine that flew in Back to the Future?”

“What’s that? A movie?”

“You don’t know about Marty McFly? What the heck do you rich people do for entertainment?”

“Mostly count our money and criticize each other.”

She laughed as he put the engine in gear and they eased down the plowed road. “You know, as pastimes go, that sounds like sooooo much fun. No wonder so many of you have pursed looks of disapproval on your faces. I thought that was just from tight underwear.”

Oh, the laughter.

As he threw his head back, she smiled again—and admired the strong column of his throat. For a split second, she pictured her fangs deep in his flesh, his vein open to her, her greed for him not just sexual, but for his blood.

Silas let out a purr. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cancel our reservation and turn back around.”

Ivie flushed and dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. But I do want to get you dinner, so there’s that.”

“Okay, so this is an international restaurant thing?”

He glanced over, the beautiful planes of his face illuminated in the glow from the dash. “I’m not all that original, am I?”

“Are you kidding me? I am so excited. Where do we start?”

“I figured we’d do this sequentially. So if we took a plane over the pond, the first thing we’d hit, if I were doing the itinerary, is the U.K.”

“I draw the line at haggis. I mean, you might as well stuff a bagpipe with compost and call it dinner.”

“To each their own.” He smiled in her direction. “After all, it’s not what the food actually is, but your associations of it. For all we know, that’s someone’s filet mignon.”

“Or in my case, their Kraft Mac & Cheese.” She patted her coat. “On that note, I hope the place is not too formal? I’m going to go straight to work, so I’m casual and comfortable under this.”

“You’re perfect, that’s what you are.”

“You’re a charmer.”

And she was buying everything he was selling, her smile so pervasive and persistent, she had to look out the side window to keep it to herself—as opposed to sitting next to him like a giggling loon.

Ten minutes later, she let out an “OMG.”

The restaurant he pulled into was the anti-Sal’s, nothing fancy but rather a quaint cottage that looked like something out of a Harry Potter novel. Made of stone, with a short-stack chimney and a postage stamp of snowed-in lawn, the pub was all about the homey and cozy, a little bolt-hole of mom-and-pop in an otherwise business-zoned area of Caldie’s suburbs.

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