She didn’t stop me. After the first couple of steps, I ran the rest of the way.
I’d just closed the door to my room when my cell phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket, read the display—it was my mother. I’d forgotten, today was Sunday. She called every Sunday.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Kitty. Where are you this week?” Her tone was laden with unspoken reprimands. She’d asked me to call her when I stopped in a new place, to let her know where I was. Since I was someplace different nearly every week, and on the road most of the time in between, it seemed kind of, well, futile to try to keep her updated on my whereabouts. I forgot, usually.
“Washington, D.C.”
Her tone changed to sounding genuinely interested. “Really? That’s exciting. Have you done any sightseeing?”
Thankfully, I was able to tell her yes, and we could talk about that for a minute or two. She sounded put out when I told her I hadn’t been taking pictures.
“I’ll send you a postcard,” I said. “Look, Mom? I’m really sorry to cut you off, but I don’t have time to talk right now. I’ve got someplace I have to be.”
“Oh?” That unmistakable Mom question.
I relented. I felt bad for ditching her so quickly. “There’s a reception at one of the art museums here. It sounded like fun.”
“Are you going by yourself?”
I had no idea how she managed it, how she could ask one question and convince me she meant something entirely different. It scared me a little that we knew each other well enough that I knew exactly what she was really asking.
“Yes, by myself,” I said with a sigh. “I haven’t been here long enough to get asked out on any dates.”
“Well, you know so many people all over the place, I can’t keep track of it unless I ask. I worry about you, traveling alone.”
This wouldn’t be a good time to tell her that I was staying with a vampire. “I’m doing fine, Mom. I promise.”
“All right, I believe you. Call me before you leave town, okay?”
Mental note, mental note. “I’ll try to remember.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Finally, I was showered and dressed. I spent five minutes practicing walking in the new shoes and was ready to head downstairs.
Alette waited in the foyer at the base of the stairs. She might not have moved since I last saw her, except someone was with her now. She finished saying something to him and turned to watch me.
The one she’d been talking to, a man in a dark gray suit, stood behind her, leaning against the doorway to the parlor, his arms crossed. Not Bradley or Tom. In his mid-twenties, he was shorter, cleft-jawed, with spiky brown hair and a wry expression. He studied me slowly, pointedly dragging his gaze up my body, starting at the ankles and lingering over the interesting bits. His smile got wryer when he caught my gaze.
He smelled cold-blooded and no heartbeat sounded in his chest. Not just a vampire, but a smarmy one.
When I reached the foyer, I asked in a low voice, “Who’s he?”
Alette lifted a hand to introduce him. “This is Leo. He will accompany you to the reception.”
A chaperone. Great. A vampire chaperone? Double great.
“You know, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
She gave me an arched-eyebrow look, the parental you stay in my house you abide by my rules kind of look.
She reached for him. Smiling, he took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it lightly. Their gazes met and exchanged some long-practiced message of conspiracy. She said, “He’s one of mine. You can trust him.”
But I didn’t trust her. I was about to suggest that I pack my bags and get a room in the hotel after all, that this wasn’t going to work out. She looked me over, stepping to one side and the other to take in several angles.