CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Knowing that Lula is not going to be enthralled over my discovery, I decide to stop by the library and speak with her in person. Our kind had a hand in Clive’s death, that’s for certain. Aspen was likely involved too. Thirdly, Miriam is tied into the periphery of all this because Bob Kline is not simply some land developer who lives far beyond his means.
Yes, I checked.
A private land developer can make very nice money, but Bob’s business is extremely small, not some megacorporation that handles billion-dollar projects. From what I saw, he builds an apartment building here and there. A few condo sites, too. Nothing that would bring in the sort of money to fund a home listed at fifteen million dollars on Zillow.
All this means that something is funding his and Aspen’s lavish lifestyles.
My best guess? The obvious. Drugs. Kline has ties to the cartel, so what else could it be?
I just wonder how Clive got caught up in all this. Perhaps he was looking for someone who’d gone missing and he showed up to the wrong place at the wrong time. All I can say is that my worry for Miriam has only grown.
Does she feel it? Does she know what she is to me?
I step through the front door of the library and am immediately hit with a warm, addictive sensation—heart flutters, stomach churns, brain twirls.
Miriam. I inhale her scent wafting through the air, taking in as much as my lungs can hold. It’s like nothing I’ve ever known—a scent that brings the warmth of home on a snowy day. A place of delicious bliss where I am happy and content. It might just be better than drinking spicy blood from a nasty villain.
All right, perhaps it’s not that good. But it is good.
I look up and see Miriam on the second floor, standing on top of a tall ladder, reaching to put away a book. She’s wearing a pair of horrible khaki pants and a white golf shirt.
Dear God, woman. I must take you shopping.
I’m about to say hello when I see her losing her balance. Suddenly, she’s falling backwards, over the railing, hurtling toward the first floor.
Crap! There’s no time to think, so I bolt underneath her and extend my arms, catching her just in time.
“Ooph!” I grunt loudly, trying to make my strength less obvious. I look at Miriam’s face, and her eyes are open, but nobody’s home.
“Miriam? What happened?” I ask, noting how light she feels in my arms and how petite her body is next to mine. She fits perfectly in my grasp.
“What…what…” she groans.
“Ohmygod! Did she just fall?” A woman with a brown ponytail rushes over. I recognize her as one of the mothers from yesterday’s story time.
“Yes,” I reply.
“But how did you catch her?” the woman questions.
“I pump iron. Lots of it,” I add, knowing I sound like an idiot.
“Michael!” Lula rushes to my side. “What the…”
I give her a stern look. “You are supposed to be watching her.”
“But I…she was…fine.”
Vampire blood or not, the body still needs to heal. “Please go find some water for her. There’s a small kitchen in the back.”
Lula nods, and I carry Miriam over to a red couch in the lounging area. I gently set her down.
“Miriam?” I tap her cheek. “Can you hear me?”
Her brown eyes focus on my face. “Mike?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“What are you doing?” she asks, groggy.
“You fell off the ladder. I caught you. What happened?”
“I-I don’t know. I was putting away a book, and then everything got all blurry, and now here I am.”
“You’re still healing from your injuries, Miriam. You shouldn’t be up on ladders or working at all.”
She slowly sits up, and I place my hand on her warm back, enjoying the sensation.
“I felt fine. I swear.” She presses her hands to her forehead.
“I’m sure you did, but you need to give yourself more time. Why don’t I take you home? Lula can watch over the library.”
She bobs her head, and I cannot lie; my heart beats a little faster. I like the idea of being alone with her. I want to get to know her.
“Thank you. That sounds good,” she says.
Just then Lula shows up with a cup of water in her hand.
“I’m taking Miriam home,” I inform her. “Can you stay and watch over things here?”
“Sure. Of course,” says Lula.
I give Lula a look, one she knows well but no one else would ever interpret. It means I have other plans for her.
“Thank you, Lula,” I say. “I appreciate it.”
She shrugs. “After my weekend orgy, it’s the least I can do.”
I stare at her stone-cold face. I will have to school her on the fine art of impersonating a human’s girlfriend later. Even if she did sleep with all those men last weekend, which I’m sure she did, she can’t tell people that if we’re supposed to be a couple.
“Thanks, honey,” I say and scoop Miriam into my arms. She nestles her warm face into the crook of my neck, and it sends shivers down my spine and back up again. It’s been centuries since I felt such strong feelings for anyone, but I cannot deny that keeping her close and safe makes me happy.
Is this love?
Most certainly not. I never even loved when I was human. I only knew sex and lust. Women were objects of desire to be enjoyed and then tossed aside or married for their fortune.
Yes, yes. I was a pig; however, in the 1600s things were different. Men avoided affairs of the heart at all costs because it might cost them everything—rank, inheritance, and the respect of other men. Only the needy and weak “fell” in love, thus the term. One did not rise to love. One did not aspire to it. A man simply fell—to disgrace, to weakness, to ridicule because it meant he did not have control over his life. The woman did.
For this reason, I never entertained such a thing, and now it is not an option.
I take Miriam to my car and help her into the passenger seat. I crouch to buckle her in, and when the latch snaps, I freeze. Our mouths are inches apart and our eyes are locked for a long awkward moment. I feel my pulse quicken and my stomach tighten.
“Michael, no,” she says with regret and blinks at me.
I pull away and chuckle. “Miriam, you really are ill. I’m merely fastening your seatbelt.”
The shame red is instant on her face. “I’m so sorry. I thought for a moment…” Her words fade. “It’s just that I have a boyfriend.”
“You do?” Why has she never mentioned him?
She nods. “He’s away right now on a dig in Egypt.”
“An archeologist? How interesting.” If he’s real, I hate him already. Archeologists are always snobby intellectual types who act as though they know the darkest secrets of man.
Wrong. I am the darkest secret of man.
“When does he return?” I add.
“Next month.”
“Well, you should call him and tell him to hurry home. Given everything going on, you shouldn’t be alone.”
She bobs her head, and I close her door before coming around to the driver’s side. I slide in, trying not to look stunned. She has a damned boyfriend!
“He doesn’t know about all this,” she mutters once I start the engine. “I thought if I told him, he wouldn’t go on his trip, and then I’d feel so bad—digging in Egypt is his dream.”
I reach over and pat her hands, which are folded atop her thigh. “It’s a testament to your selflessness and loyalty, Miriam. Traits to be admired.”
Yes, she feels loyal to his well-being. I can sense it, and I think I like her all the more because of it.
“So where are we off to?” I ask, pulling out my phone and quickly taking the opportunity to text Lula.
Me: Lock up the library, wait for night, and go to this address. I need you to check it out. Do not get too close.
I add the address that Viviana gave me for the Carlitos crime family.
Lula: Not another danger mission!
Me: No, Lula. And grow up. You are 2X-V8. Spank anyone who gets in your way.
In other words, she is a vampire times two centuries. It is a well-known fact that with every century of life, our powers increase twofold. If I could run twenty miles per hour as a newbie, I could run forty as a vampire of one hundred years old. My strength doubled. The point is, Lula underestimates herself. I always overestimate her. But doing a little cartel spying is right up her alley.
Lula: Hate you.
Me: Love you, too.
I chuckle and look at Miriam. “So where to?”