Night's Touch (13 page)

Cara slept late Sunday morning. After rising, she dressed, brushed her teeth, and went to church. Of course, going to church was something else her parents never did, not even at night, but Cara found comfort in the hymns and in the beauty of the stained-glass windows. She liked the ritual of it, the sense of communing with God, and the feeling of forgiveness that came with taking the sacrament.

After leaving the church, she took a walk through the park across the street. It was a beautiful day, bright and clear, with a sky so blue it almost hurt her eyes just to look at it. Taking off her shoes and stockings, she ran barefoot through the grass, and all the while she thought of Vince and the kisses they had shared on the front porch last night.

"Vince and Cara, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g," she sang, then laughed out loud.

She felt as giddy as a schoolgirl with her first crush. Was this how her mother had felt about her father? She wished Sarah Beth was there. She needed someone to confide in, but Sarah Beth was gone for the weekend. In the past, Cara had always confided in her mother, but she couldn't bring herself to talk to Brenna about this.

When she came to a bench, Cara sat down and put her shoes and stockings back on. Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a piece of chewing gum, then sat back and tried to decide what she would say when Anton came to call.

He appeared at seven sharp, with a heart-shaped box of candy in one hand and a bouquet of yellow roses in the other.

"Thank you," Cara murmured, accepting the gifts. "You shouldn't have."

"But I wanted to."

"Come in, won't you?" She stepped back so he could enter the foyer, then led the way into the living room, all the while wishing it was Vince walking beside her. "Mom, Dad, this is Anton. Anton, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. DeLongpre."

"Pleased to meet you," Anton said, nodding at her mother and father.

"I didn't catch your last name," Roshan said, shaking the young man's hand.

"Bouchard."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Bouchard," Brenna said. She looked up at her husband, a frown on her face.

"I'd love to stay and chat," Anton said, "But I made reservations at the Steak and Stein for seven-thirty."

"Of course," Cara said. She put the box of candy on the coffee table, then handed the flowers to her mother. "Mom, would you put these in water for me?" she asked, then glanced at Anton. "Just let me get my coat."

"What line of work are you in, Mr. Bouchard?" Brenna asked.

"My mother and I own a bookstore."

Warning bells went off inside Roshan's head. "Indeed? Would I know it?"

"I don't know, sir. It's called The Wiccan Heart."

"Witchcraft, then?"

"Yes, sir."

"And are you, yourself, a witch?"

"I dabble in the arts occasionally. Cara, are you ready to go?"

"Yes."

She handed Anton her coat, and he helped her on with it.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, sir," Anton said. "Mrs. DeLongpre."

Cara kissed her father's cheek and hugged her mother. "I won't be late."

Roshan stared after Anton Bouchard as he followed Cara out the door. Could it be?

He looked at Brenna and saw the same question in her eyes.

"Is it possible?" she asked.

"I don't know how it could be," Roshan muttered, "but he looks just like him."

"But he never married or had children, did he?"

"Not that I know of." Yet the resemblance between Anton Bouchard and Anthony Loken was chilling. It could have been coincidence, but Roshan had never believed in coincidence.

"I don't like this," Brenna said. "We shouldn't have let her go."

"She'll be all right. Di Giorgio won't let her out of his sight."

"Of course, Di Giorgio." Brenna smiled as she went into the kitchen for a vase. "How could I have forgotten about Di Giorgio?"

Anton glared at the burly bodyguard sitting near the front door of the restaurant. "Does he go everywhere with you?"

"Pretty much."

"Listen, I know this is none of my business, but have you ever thought about moving out? You know, getting a place of your own?"

"Well, sure, sometimes," Cara said defensively. And it was true. She had thought about it, but it seemed silly to move into a small apartment when she had the run of a huge house, and she was pretty sure that whether she lived at home or not, she would still have Di Giorgio to contend with. On the other hand, it would be fun to have a place of her own, to be independent. She thought about Vince. If she had a place of her own, they could be alone.

The thought made her smile. Alone with Vince. Talk about living on the edge! She couldn't think of anything more dangerous than being alone with Vince Cordova and his sexy smile. He had only to look at her and her insides melted like warm ice cream. And his voice; that deep, rich baritone that made her think of warm skin against cool sheets.

"Cara?"

She blinked at Anton. "Did you say something?"

"I asked if you were ready to order."

"Oh, sure. I'll have the shrimp and a house salad. And iced tea."

Anton ordered, then sat back, wondering how best to tell Cara that her parents were vampires. His mother was anxious to get Cara out of DeLongpre's house and out from under the vampire's immediate protection. Of course, telling her the truth about her mother and father didn't guarantee that she would move out, but the news was bound to come as a shock and maybe shake her faith in her parents. Even if she didn't move out, the fact that they had kept the truth from her might serve to drive a wedge between them. If that didn't work, well, he could always kidnap the little chit. Still, there was no need to worry about it yet. He had until All Hallow's Eve to come up with a way to separate Cara from her parents and her watchdog in a way that wouldn't arouse their suspicion or implicate him or his mother when Cara came up missing.

"You told me you weren't a witch," Cara said when the waitress moved away from the table.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The other night, I asked you if you were a witch, and you said no, but tonight you told my father you dabbled in witchcraft. Why did you lie to me?"

"Well, I didn't know you very well, and I was afraid it might scare you off," he lied smoothly.

"So, what kind of witchcraft do you practice?" Cara asked.

"Oh, just simple things. A woman came in last week. She was distraught because she'd lost her wedding ring and she didn't want to tell her husband. I helped her find it."

Cara nodded, wondering if he was telling her the truth this time, but it didn't matter. She had no intention of going out with him again.

"There's all kinds of Magick," Anton explained. "Herbal magick, candle magick, animal magick, and elemental magick. Some magick is done best during a particular phase of the moon. And there are love spells, of course."

"You mean you can make people fall in love?"

"Not exactly. But a sachet bag filled with rosemary, thyme, and sage is effective in attracting love. There are spells to attract money and spells to summon the spirits of the dead."

Cara shivered. "Have you ever done that? Summon the dead? It doesn't sound like a very good idea to me."

"No, I've never tried anything like that." Not yet, he thought. Alone in his room, he had tried several complicated spells, pleased when each had turned out perfectly. He definitely had the gift. One day, he hoped to be as powerful a warlock as his father had been, and if that meant dabbling in the Dark Arts, then so be it.

Dinner arrived and they spoke of trivial things. Later, after Anton paid the check, they left the restaurant.

"Where to now?" he asked. "Movies? A drive? A walk? Bowling?"

Cara glanced over her shoulder. Di Giorgio nodded at her from a discreet distance away.

"Or we could go dancing at The Nocturne," Anton suggested.

Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. Vince might be at The Nocturne.

"Well?" he asked, "what will it be?"

"Dancing sounds good," she said, especially if she found a way to dance with Vince.

She could scarcely contain her excitement as they made their way down the stairs to the club's entrance.

The dark, sensual beat of the music seemed to close around Cara as she followed Anton to a vacant table in the back. A man smiled at her, his hooded eyes dark with lust. She recoiled when she saw his fangs and then laughed self-consciously as she reminded herself that no matter how real they looked, they were fake.

She didn't know what it was that she found so appealing about this place. The people frightened her, the music made her think of dark, intimate acts.

She was disappointed when she didn't see Vince in the crowd.

Anton asked her to dance and even though she didn't want to be in his arms, she could hardly refuse, since she had been so enthusiastic about coming here.

The first song ended and the second one began. Anton was relating a story about something that had happened at the bookstore when one of the couples dancing nearby caught Cara's attention. Could it be? It was!

"What's wrong?" Anton asked.

"My parents are here!"

"What? Where?"

"Over there."

Roshan twirled her mother around just then and caught Cara staring.

"Well, hello," Brenna said, smiling, "What a nice surprise."

"I didn't know you two came here," Cara said.

"You seemed to like it, so we thought we'd give it a try," her father said. "We were just going to get a drink. Would you care to join us?"

Cara glanced at Anton. He was staring at her father through narrowed eyes, almost as if he hated him, yet that was ridiculous. The two had only met once before.

"Anton?"

With a shrug, he said, "It's up to you."

"Sure, we'd love to join you," Cara said, wondering at Anton's strange behavior.

Moments later, the four of them were seated at a large booth in the back.

"What are you drinking, Mom?" Cara asked when their drinks arrived. At home, her parents never indulged in anything stronger than a glass of red wine.

"It's a club specialty," her mother replied.

"It looks like a Bloody Mary," Anton remarked.

"It's very similar," her mother said.

They talked of the weather and the upcoming election. Roshan ordered another round of drinks, though both Brenna and Cara declined.

Her parents danced together again. Cara watched them, thinking how well they looked together. They moved effortlessly, almost as if they were floating. Her father, clad in his usual black attire, looked as though he belonged there. Without even trying, he looked more like a vampire than any of the wanna-be vampires with their long black cloaks and fake fangs. Her mother, clad in a flowing yellow and orange striped skirt and white blouse, looked like she should be dancing in a sunlit field of wildflowers.

At midnight, Cara asked Anton to take her home.

"So early? You're not going to turn into a pumpkin on me, are you?"

"No," Cara said, grinning. "I'm just tired."

"Very well." Rising, he bid a cool good night to her parents.

"We'll be along soon, Princess," Roshan said, giving his daughter a hug.

"All right. Night, Dad. Mom."

Cara stared into the darkness as Anton drove her home. She had so hoped to see Vince at the club. Of course, even if he had been there, she couldn't have spent any time with him, not when she was on a date with another man, but she was disappointed just the same.

Anton pulled up in front of the driveway and Di Giorgio pulled in behind him. A moment later, the gate opened and Anton drove up to the front of the house. He put the car in park, then turned to look at Cara.

"So tell me," he said, "how long have your parents been vampires?"