Terrance, Cecile, and Wulf all go back to work. They’d kicked everyone out—or maybe everyone ran screaming when the body parts started flying—but everything still needs to be closed out and cleaned up. I don’t envy them that job. The vampires took the remains of their dead clan member away, but the blood left behind has to be… Ugh. Nasty. Hopefully magic will be involved.
“You got her?” Nick asks Oliver, referring to me. “I’ve got to head out. Got to go babysit some stupid Washington yahoo about some demon business.”
I smirk. He sounds thrilled about that.
Oliver nods and gives me a grin. “Yeah. I’ll get her in bed. Don’t worry.”
I choke on a laugh, and Nick snorts. Oliver has to think back on his words, and then he chuckles and shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Better not be,” Nick teases. “At least not for a week. Then I say go for it.”
I groan. “Oh, shut up, Nick.”
“Nora. I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s Gorgeous. GORGEOUS. Not Nick.”
I smile a big, toothy grin. “You got it, Nick.”
Nick rolls his eyes and heads out the door, grumbling about beautiful smartass women. I laugh to myself and then call him back. I’ve got one last question for him before he leaves. “Hey, Gorgeous?” I humor him just this once.
He spins around, giving me a sly grin. “Yes, beautiful?”
I groan internally. He’s incorrigible. “Does the FUA keep old records?”
The question catches him off guard. His brain flips into work mode, and he answers professionally, for once. “How far back?”
“About fifteen to twenty years?” I suck in a breath as if it might give me the courage I need to say my next sentence. “My mother and I were attacked by vampires when I was six. They nearly drained me and left me for dead, but they were brutal to my mom before they killed her.”
Nick’s eyes bulge, and his mouth pops open. Oliver, however, gives me a sympathetic smile. He’s heard this story before. I gulp and hedge on. “That’s how I found out about the underworld, and it’s the main reason I’m so scared of vampires. I’ve always been terrified of them—long before Henry. He and Josephine were both just affirming my fear.”
Nick’s response is earnest. “No kidding. I’m sorry, Nora.”
I shrug, not knowing how to respond to that. “I was thinking it might help to know what happened to those vamps that attacked us. Do you think you still have it on record? My mom’s case?”
Nick’s brow furrows, and he shakes his head. “Your case wasn’t known. No way. If what you’re saying is true about the two of you, we wouldn’t have left a witness alive.”
Meaning they’d have killed me to keep the secret of the underworld safe. I cringe, and Nick shrugs. “Sorry. It’s harsh, but true. You and your mother slipped through the cracks somehow.”
Of course. A dead end. My entire life has always felt like one giant dead end. “But there had to have been other victims who didn’t,” I say. “Henry told me they were rogues. He said regular vampires would never do what they did to us. They must have had other victims around the same time that didn’t fall through the cracks. I could give you a time and a place. I could even identify them by face. Henry got in my head and made me relive the memory, so I know what they look like. If you arrested them or something—it’d give me peace of mind to know.”
Nick scratches the back of his head and slowly nods. “Yeah, that sounds doable. Though, to be honest, something like that is way more Ren’s department than mine.”
“Okay, I’ll ask him about it.”
“If you want to search for your mother’s killers, I could do that, too,” Oliver offers. “It would be pretty easy to look up.” He gives me a small smile that’s a little sad. “I’d be happy to help you.”
Of course he would. He’s the sweetest, kindest man that ever existed. He’s also the most adorable. He’s tall and slim, with wavy light brown hair and beautiful amber eyes. He doesn’t wear glasses, but his look screams geek that doesn’t know he’s hot. I love that about him, because I’m usually surrounded by too many cocky, testosterone-filled men who love to peacock around. My sweet, humble best friend is a breath of fresh air.
“I’d love your help. Thanks, Ollie. My hero, as usual.”
Oliver grins while Nick snorts. “Aw, how sweet.”
Oliver and I both flip Nick off, and he laughs his way out the door. “Night, guys. Nora, do me a favor and try not to get attacked for at least the next twenty-four hours.”
“I will. Good-bye, Nicky!” I grin at Oliver when Nick grunts curses down the hall.
Once we’re alone, Oliver sits down on the edge of my bed as if he’s been patiently waiting his turn for my attention. He’s always so quiet when others are around. He’s a big-time introvert and a little shy, but more than that, he’s just the type of guy who knows I appreciate him no matter what. He’s happy to stand in the background while all of the other more dominant personalities monopolize my time. I like that, because it means, in the end, I get more one-on-one time with him, and alone time with men is not something I get a lot of. Aside from Terrance, Oliver is the only man I trust enough for that.
“I think you’re the only person in Detroit who dares tease Nick Gorgeous,” Oliver says, still chuckling a little.
“Aw, he’s a big softy. It’s Cecile who scares me. Did I really just agree to a coming-out party?”
Oliver laughs. “I think so. And Cecile is known for throwing exclusive, swanky parties, so have fun with that.”
“I will. I’ll be hiding in the corner with my best friend, mocking all the stuffy rich people pretending they’re in some Jane Austen novel.”
“What?” Oliver gasps with mock outrage. “Who is this imposter best friend that’ll go to parties with you?”
I lightly punch Oliver’s arm, but he’s got me laughing. I’m so grateful for him. “Seriously, though, you’ll come, won’t you? I’ll need a wingman to keep me sane.”
Oliver grimaces, and then when I make a pouty face, gives me an over-the-top sigh. “Of course I’ll come with you. I’ll hate every second of it, but I’ll come anyway.”
I grin. “And that’s why you’re my best friend. You’ll dive into exciting trouble with me, but you’ll also suffer miserable, boring parties with me. Thanks, Ollie.”
Oliver pulls a Nick Gorgeous move and mutters something under his breath about cute nicknames and not being able to refuse me. My grin grows even bigger, and I close the small gap between us, leaning against him and resting my head on his shoulder. He gives my leg a quick pat to let me know he’s thrilled with the rare gesture, but otherwise holds still and doesn’t touch me. Oliver is one of the few people in my life who really understands my aversion to physical touch and is very careful to give me space.
After a minute, my eyes start to droop, and Oliver breaks the silence. “All right. Time to get you home.”
I try to stand up, but I simply don’t have the energy. With a defeated sigh, I hold my arms out to him. He scoops me up with surprisingly little effort, making me wonder what kind of muscles he’s hiding beneath his dress shirt. I’m surprised that I want to know. Oliver is my best friend, and that’s how I’ve always seen him, but being in his arms like this is surprisingly exciting. “Do you work out?” I blurt suddenly, then cringe, because I sound so stupid.
Oliver laughs. “You’re a lightweight. And I swim a lot.”
A swimmer. That explains it. It also fits him. I can totally picture him calmly doing laps in a quiet pool. I wouldn’t mind seeing him in a swimsuit.
Without the fear I normally have around men, I allow myself a moment of indulgence to explore this new interest. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. A faint hint of aftershave floods my senses and makes me shiver.
Oliver freezes, and his whole body stiffens. All those swimmer muscles I was thinking about suddenly flex to life. Hope washes through me from Oliver, along with his thoughts. Did she just smell me? Is it possible she’s attracted to me? Is she just exhausted, or could she feel the same way I feel about her? What do I do? Do I ignore it? Do I say something?
His nervous rambling touches my heart, and out of nowhere, I press my lips lightly against the side of his neck before pulling away from his skin. Both of us suck in sharp breaths. “Nora…” he rasps.
“Sorry,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say. I’m as shocked by my actions as he is.
He swallows and slowly relaxes his body. “I’m not sorry,” he murmurs with a tiny chuckle. “Feel free to kiss me whenever you want.”
I relax. He’s so good at making me feel comfortable. I consider his offer and surprise myself when I realize I wouldn’t mind a kiss from Oliver. The thought scares me a little, but thrills me more. Maybe Oliver is the key to getting over my issues with intimacy. “I’ll work on it,” I finally say.
He chuckles again and squeezes me a little tighter to him as he starts walking. He carries me all the way to my car, which is parked right out front, waiting for us. Leave it to Terrance to think of something as small as my car, even after I’ve just been nearly murdered. I’m not even surprised to learn that Oliver already has my keys. He helps me get settled in the passenger seat, and then he climbs behind the wheel.
I fall asleep in the car on the way to my place and don’t wake up again until I’m lying on my own bed, Oliver removing my shoes. “Sorry. Go back to sleep,” he says softly as he sets my shoes neatly on the floor at the foot of my bed. He then proceeds to help me pull the covers back and tucks me in. My heart melts a little at the sweet gesture. I haven’t been tucked into bed since my mom died. I’m surprised that I love being taken care of this way.
He perches on the side of my bed, and his face becomes serious as he looks down at me. “You okay?”
I want to be strong and tell him I’m fine, but I can’t lie to him. “Not really. Physically, yeah, I’m just exhausted. Emotionally…?” I bite my lip and will myself not to cry as I say, “Can you—would you mind staying? I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Oliver’s mouth falls open, and he sucks in a silent breath. “You would trust me like that?”
Instead of blushing and feeling vulnerable, a sense of surety washes over me, forcing me to calm down. “There are exactly two people in this world I trust with my life—you and Terrance. I’d feel safer with you here.”
Oliver responds by smiling softly and taking off his shoes. He turns out the light and then lies down on the other side of my bed on top of the covers. I’m grateful he’s staying, but I’m even gladder that he knows me well enough to know exactly how to make me comfortable without me having to say it.
“Thanks, Ollie,” I whisper into the dark.
There’s a smile in his reply. “Good night, Nora.”
. . . . .
I wake up the next afternoon to Oliver bringing me breakfast in bed. Well, breakfast food, anyway. Technically, it’s more like lunch in bed. “My hero,” I say as I sit up with a big stretch and a yawn.
“What? This is mine,” Oliver teases as he sits down on the side of the bed he slept on with the tray of food in his lap. “Go get your own.”
He sticks a crispy piece of bacon in his mouth before he finally sets the tray on the bed between us. There are two plates piled high with food on the tray. My mouth waters as the smell of strawberry pancakes, eggs, ham, and bacon hit my nose. The man really is my hero.
While I go to town on all the delicious food, Oliver props himself up against the headboard, crosses his feet at his ankles, and grabs the TV remote from the night table. “I called in sick from work this evening, so we have a full twenty-four hours to lay in bed like slugs, binge watching every episode of Stranger Things.”
I laugh at that. You’d think with fantasy being reality for us, we’d prefer normal television, but we’re both paranormal geeks at heart.
Ollie doesn’t turn the TV on right away. Instead, we eat in silence until he clears his throat and says, “So…Parker was awfully worried about you last night.”
I cast him a sideways glance to let him know I’m not thrilled with the direction of this conversation. “Parker is a worrier. He’s like that with everyone.”
Oliver snorts. “Nice try. He may care about his clan, but he’s Henry’s chief enforcer because he has the ability to be cold and ruthless when he needs to be. I’ve seen it. The concern he shows you is different.”
“Yeah, because he feels guilty since it’s his clan always trying to hurt me, and he’s the one responsible for bringing me fully into the underworld.”
Oliver rolls his eyes. “It’s more than that, and you know it. I’ve never seen someone look at a woman the way he looks at you.”
I glare at Oliver, but he’s right, and he holds my gaze steady in his. I break first. “Fine.” I sigh. “Parker has an infatuation. I know it, but nothing’s going to come of it, so there’s no point in talking about it.”
Oliver is quiet for a long minute, then quietly asks what’s been on his mind since last night. “So, you’re not interested?”
That’s a question I’ve been skirting since I met Parker, because the answer is too complicated, but Oliver’s not going to let me off the hook with some bogus crap this time. I throw my head back against the headboard and groan at the ceiling. “It wouldn’t matter even if I was, which I’m not sure I am. He’s attractive and nice, but I’m too screwed up to get into a relationship, and his feelings for me aren’t real. He’s just affected by my curse.”
Oliver frowns, but I’m not sure which part of that he’s frowning at, so I say nothing. He moves the empty breakfast tray out of the way and turns to face me. “What curse?”
Okay, so I knew which part of that he was frowning at. I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to explain it to him. I cringe beneath the weight of his stare and give in. “There’s something different about me that draws people in.”
Oliver smiles wryly. “Could it be that you’re beautiful, smart, friendly, compassionate, loyal, and brave?”
I resist the urge to deny all of his compliments. I know he means them, even if I don’t feel deserving of his praise. “That’s not it. I mean, I put men under some kind of spell, until their fascination with me becomes obsession. Like with Henry. It’s happened all my life.”
I shake my head and interrupt Oliver when he starts to argue. “Think about it. Henry, Parker, Wulf, and Rook. Nick. Terrance.”
Oliver frowns again, this time seeing my point and having a hard time denying it.
“I think it has something to do with what I am.”
“What you are?”
I shrug. “Everyone’s always talking about me having underworlder blood. I have gifts that humans don’t have. Maybe I’m some weird human/underworlder hybrid. But whatever it is, I can’t get into a relationship when I know the guy only likes me because of my curse.”
Oliver’s face falls flat. “I don’t think that’s the only reason Parker likes you.”
“Parker doesn’t know me. He can’t like me. Parker wants me. There’s a difference. And with my history, there’s no way I’m getting involved with someone who’s only interested in sex. I can’t. If I’m ever able to go there with someone, and that’s a pretty big if, it’s going to have to be someone I trust implicitly and who I know isn’t going to lose control of themselves—which is what people tend to do when I return their attraction. My weird allure kicks into overdrive. It’s like when Cecile or Ren turns up their sex mojo. People can’t help themselves. They aren’t themselves.”
Oliver sits there for a minute, processing what I’ve just told him. Eventually, he nods. “Perhaps there’s something there. Maybe you do have some kind of unknown power of attraction. But I’m sure that’s not always the case. It is possible for someone to like you, not because of some supernatural power, but because of you. There’s so much about you for people to like.”
A lump forms in my throat. He’s talking about himself, and we both know it. I don’t know what to say. I adore him, but he’s just as influenced as anyone. “Oliver…”
He gives me a crooked smile and shakes his head, denying the thoughts he knows I’m thinking. “I know you, Nora. I’ve known you for years. And I was never around you, so it couldn’t have been some curse affecting me. You’re just special. You’re so strong. You’re beautiful and smart. You’re a survivor.”
He takes a risk and pushes my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers graze my cheek. The rare skin-to-skin contact raises goose bumps on my arms and makes me shiver. The thought I catch when he touches me is tender. I wish I could make her see. She deserves so much more than she allows herself.
My eyes start to sting, and I press my hand against the burning in my chest. “Ollie,” I murmur.
He gives me a soft smile and takes my hand in his. I love you. The thought is so direct I wonder if he’s just thinking it or if he’s sending it to me on purpose. My stomach flips, and a half-crazed sob bubbles up from my chest. For once I don’t pull away. I don’t want to let go. His feelings aren’t lust-filled. They’re tender and comforting. They feel sincere.
“The things I think about you—feel for you—it’s because of who you are,” he insists softly. “And I think, deep down, you believe that, or you’d never be able to trust me the way you do.”
Tears spill from my eyes. I quickly swipe them away and take a deep breath to get control of myself. I’m so not a crier, but I’ve never felt such pure feelings or heard such beautiful, sincere thoughts. “I do believe you,” I promise, sniffling. “I just can’t…I don’t know how to…I’m too broken.”
The loving smile never leaves his face. “I know, Nora.” In a rather bold move, he pulls me into his lap and cradles me against his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. I close my eyes and soak up the affection being offered to me. I’ve never been held before. Not since my mother used to comfort me when I was little.
He wraps his arms around me tightly and leans us back against the headboard. I can still hear his thoughts, but they’re absentminded. He’s simply enjoying this moment, the same as I am. His sorcerer community was cruel to him for years because he wouldn’t use his magic. His family disowned him, kicked him out as soon as he turned eighteen, and turned their backs on him. He’s as alone as me and loves our unique relationship as much as I do. He doesn’t need more than this right now. He’s healing from his own experiences as much as I am.
I let out a deep breath and relax against him. “I love you, too, Ollie.”
He drops a small kiss on the top of my head in response and reaches for the remote. “What do you think? Stranger Things, The Walking Dead, or Game of Thrones?”
I grin and snuggle deeper into his hold. “You choose.”