Night's Surrender (20 page)

Pearl leaned forward and placed her hand over his. “I'm so sorry.”

“I vowed to kill McDonald, but someone beat me to it.”

“Oh?” Pearl went very still. Did he know the truth?

“Yeah, some vampire named Pearl Jackson. If I ever meet her, I'll pat her on the back and buy her a drink.”

For a moment, she could only stare at him, and then she burst out laughing.

Monroe frowned at her. “What's so funny?”

Taking a deep breath, Pearl said, “Maybe someday, when I know you better, I'll tell you.”

Nick hit the mute on the remote. “You seem upset about something,” he remarked. “Do you want to tell me what it is?”

Abbey shrugged. “It's nothing, really. Turn the sound back on. This is the best part.”

“You can tell me what's bothering you,” Nick said, barely holding on to his patience. “Or I can slip inside your head and root around in there until I find it.”

“Oh! That sounds so gross!” Scooting to the other side of the sofa, she folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I told you, it's nothing.”

“Then tell me.”

With a huff of annoyance, she said, “Oh, all right! If you must know, I asked my mom a while back if she had any information about my biological father.”

Nick frowned. “And that's why you're so upset?”

“Well, she never got back to me.” Abbey held up one hand to stay his next question. “She said she'd let me know if she found anything, so I guess she didn't, but . . . I don't know. I just can't believe she made a decision like that when all she knew about the man was his age and that he was a healthy white male. Not about something so important.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I'm not afraid. I just . . .” She spread her hands in a gesture of futility. “I just want to know who he was. I mean, think about it. Maybe he had some kind of preternatural power and that's why I could sometimes read your thoughts when we first met.”

Nick grunted softly. It made sense. And he couldn't blame her for being curious. “I'll see what I can find out, love.”

Abbey scooted closer and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Nick.”

He nodded. “We friends again?”

She made a face at him. “I wasn't mad at you. Just . . . just frustrated. You'll let me know if you discover anything, won't you? No matter what it is?”

“I promise.” If anyone knew anything about Abbey's parentage, it would be Mara. After hitting the mute button again, Nick handed Abbey the remote. “I need to go out for a while. I won't be long.”

“All right.” He went out to hunt every night about this time. It was a part of him and she accepted it as such, although it was difficult to think of him going into the city, searching for prey, drinking from another woman.

He kissed her lightly and vanished from her sight.

 

 

Nick found his prey quickly, took what he needed, and sent the woman on her way. Moving quicker than the human eye could follow, he headed for a local hangout. Inside, he ordered two glasses of red wine, then focused his thoughts on Mara.

Moments later, she entered the tavern. As always, he was taken aback by her incomparable beauty, as was every other man in the place. As if pulled by the same string, they all followed her progress toward him. Their combined envy when she slid sinuously into his booth was a palpable presence in the room.

“Nicky,” she murmured with a wry grin. “We've got to stop meeting like this.”

“Very funny.”

“Is something wrong?” She picked up the wineglass in front of her and took a sip. “Ah, my favorite chardonnay. How sweet of you to remember.”

“Turn it off, Cleopatra. I didn't come here to flirt with you.”

“Another hope crushed. So, what do you want?”

“Abbey's been fretting over who her biological father is. I figured if anyone knew anything about him, it would be you.”

“Has she asked her mother?”

“Yeah. Savanah said all she knew about the man was his age and that he was healthy.”

“I see.”

Nick tilted his head to one side. “You know more than that, don't you?”

“Perhaps. How are things between the two of you now that you're no longer human?”

“Same as they were before. Abbey never had a problem with my being a vampire.”

Obviously skeptical, Mara lifted one brow. “And when she grows old and you don't?”

“I don't know. I'll worry about it when it happens.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “So, are you going to tell me what you know about Abbey's biological father?”

“He appears to have been quite an interesting character. His name was Miles Cunningham. He was twenty-nine when he donated his sperm. Born in Maryland, never married. He listed his profession as an accountant.” Mara ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass. “In the course of his lifetime, he went by several aliases, none that I have ever heard of. He was also rumored to be a formidable warlock who was allied with a powerful coven in New Orleans. He died in prison two years ago while serving a fifteen-year sentence for grand larceny, among other things.”

“He couldn't have been much of a warlock if he couldn't magic his way out of prison,” Nick muttered. “Still, I can understand why Savanah never told Abbey about him.”

“I'm not sure Savanah ever knew. Are you going to tell Abbey?”

“She deserves to know the truth.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“Probably not. But I promised Abbey I'd let her know whatever I found out.” Of course, he hadn't expected to find out the man in question was a warlock and a crook. He frowned thoughtfully. “How'd you come by all this information?”

She shrugged. “I have my sources.”

“Uh-huh. And what were you planning to do with it?”

“I hadn't decided, but it's up to you now. Do what you wish.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“Always glad to help,” she said, smirking. “Does Abbey know we're meeting on the sly?”

“What do you think? Did you tell Logan?”

“What do you think?”

“It's good to see you, Mara, as always.”

“And you.” She finished her wine and set the glass aside. Leaning across the table, she cupped his cheek in her hand and kissed him lightly. Then, with a wink and a little extra swagger in her walk, she made her way to the exit.

Nick grinned as every male eye in the tavern focused on Mara's swaying hips as she sauntered out the door.

 

 

Abbey was watching the end of the movie when Nick returned home. “You were gone a long time tonight.”

“Sorry.” Sitting beside her, he drew her close, his fingers caressing her cheek, sliding up into her hair. Cupping the back of her head, he covered her mouth with his. “Did you miss me?”

“Maybe.” She tugged his shirt from inside his jeans and slipped her hand underneath.

“Maybe?”

She leaned forward to kiss him, only to draw back, her brow furrowed. “Where were you?”

“You were with Mara again, weren't you?”

“Reading my mind, love?”

“No. Smelling her perfume,” she replied tartly. Scooting to the other end of the sofa, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why did you go sneaking off to see her?”

“I didn't go
sneaking
off.”

“No?” She lifted one brow. “Didn't you tell me you were going hunting?”

“Do you want to listen to what I have to say, or not?”

She nodded curtly.

“You've been upset because you don't know anything about your biological father. I figured if anybody would know about him, it would be Mara.”

Abbey leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Did she know him?”

“No, but she had some information.”

“Tell me!”

“Are you sure you want to hear this? It isn't all good.”

“Nick, you promised! What did she tell you?”

“For starters, it seems he was a warlock, with ties to a coven in New Orleans.”

Abbey sat back, stunned. “He was a witch?” She didn't know what she had expected, but this wasn't it.

“So it seems.”

“Is that the good news or the bad?”

“I guess it depends on how you feel about witches. I'm pretty sure it's his preternatural power that let you read my thoughts. You probably have some latent power of your own that you haven't tapped into.”

“Me?” She blinked at him. “I'm not a witch.”

“How do you know?”

Abbey fell back against the sofa cushions. If she was a witch, wouldn't she know it? Except for being able to read Nick's mind, she had never done anything the least bit supernatural. “What else did Mara tell you?”

“It seems he used several aliases over the years. He was sent to prison for fleecing a man out of a fortune in uncut diamonds.”

“Is he still alive?”

“No. He died in prison two years ago.”

Abbey stared blankly into the distance. Not only was her biological father a warlock, he was a thief, as well. Surely her mother hadn't known what kind of man he was. “Did Mara know his real name?”

“He listed his name as Miles Cunningham on the donor card. Are you all right?”

“Why wouldn't I be all right? Just because the blood of a warlock who was also a thief and who knows what else runs through my veins?” She blinked rapidly in an effort to stay her tears.

Nick closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. “It doesn't matter who fathered you,” he said, stroking her hair. “What matters is who you are. Rane and your mother have had more influence on you than some man you've never met. And they did a hell of a good job.”

Abbey buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder, grateful for his nearness, his words of comfort. Maybe he was right. For decades, scientists had been trying to determine which factor played a stronger role in a child's development—heredity or environment. Nature versus nurture. To date, there was no decision as to which played a more important part. So even though her biological father had been a thief, she had been taught that stealing was wrong, so it was unlikely that she would become a thief. But being able to read Nick's mind hadn't been taught. “Do you think my mother knew he was a warlock?”

“I doubt it.”

“Do you think I should tell her?”

“After all this time?” He shrugged. “I guess that's up to you.”

Abbey sighed. On the one hand, if her mother didn't already know, there was nothing to be gained by telling her at this late date. What was done was done and couldn't be undone. Besides, if her mother didn't know and discovered that Miles Cunningham's character had been less than sterling, she might start feeling guilty. And there was nothing to be gained by that, either.

Sitting up, Abbey shook her head. “What do you think I should do?”

“If it was me, I'd let it go.”

She nodded. For now, that seemed like the best thing to do. “How do I find out if I have any witchy powers?”

“Witchy?” Nick chuckled. “What are you thinking? That you can twitch your nose and make things disappear?”

“Can I?”

“How should I know? I'm a vampire, not a witch. Give it a try and see what happens.”

“Yeah, right. I love you, Nick.”

“That's magic all by itself.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You're a young, beautiful, talented woman, and I'm an ancient vampire. You don't think there's magic involved?”

Murmuring, “Just love,” she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can I taste you?”

“Sure. As long as I can taste you in return.”

“Deal.”

She sat back while he bit into his wrist, then held it out to her. She regarded the blood a moment, then lowered her head and lapped it up like a kitten with a bowl of cream. It sizzled through her, making her feel vibrant and alive, as if she could climb Everest or leap tall buildings in a single bound.

“That's enough, love. My turn now.” He sealed the shallow wound in his wrist, then drew her gently into his arms. After brushing the hair away from her neck, he laved the skin beneath her ear with his tongue before lowering his head to her throat.

Abbey sighed as she felt the prick of his fangs, wondering again why it didn't hurt, and how anything so bizarre could feel so wonderful.

She knew a moment of regret when he drew back. His tongue was warm against her neck as he sealed the tiny wounds left by his fangs.

Feeling deliciously content, she snuggled against him, her head resting against his chest, one arm wrapped around his waist. Soon, he would carry her to bed. Just the thought made her heart skip a beat.

Making love to Nick was an incredible experience. Poets always talked about two people becoming one. She had always assumed it was just a figure of speech, but in their case, it was true. It wasn't just their bodies that came together, but their hearts and minds, as well. He knew her better than she knew herself, knew what she wanted before she did.

Nick stroked her cheek. “You seem very introspective. What are you thinking about?”

“Do you think I'd like being a vampire?”

“What brought that up?”

“Oh . . . um . . . I just wondered if it would enhance our lovemaking.”

Nick drew back a little so he could see her face. “Are you complaining?”

“No, never. I mean, it's wonderful. I love that I know what you're feeling and everything, but . . . well, you've got all these amazing preternatural senses and . . .”

Nick chuckled. “I've never heard of anyone wanting to be a vampire to improve their sex life.”

Punching him on the arm, she said, “It sounds awful when you put it like that!”

“Ow!”

“Oh, please, that didn't hurt and you know it.”