Finn sighed. “At some dive hotel on the outskirts of the city. I’m gonna head back to my place in the morning seeing as Cristescu is keeping his vamps under control.”
“I’ll come over tomorrow, then. I want to see everyone. And we need to discuss Rita.”
“Not you, too. Alvie won’t shut up about her either.”
“You shouldn’t underestimate her, Finn,” I said. “That girl can surprise all of us. She’s a little lost right now, but we can get her back.”
His expression was sympathetic, like he felt sorry for me and how I was holding onto this thin thread of hope for my lost friend. I swallowed and looked away, blinking back tears. When I felt like I had them under control, I looked back at him.
“I’m going to hug you again now,” I said before folding him into my arms. He seemed taken by surprise but hugged me back. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whispered.
“I’m glad you’re okay, too,” he murmured, giving me a little squeeze before stepping back.
I reached out, trailing my fingertips softly over the bruise on his face. “Tell Alvie to make you one of Rita’s healing recipes. It should get rid of this in no time.”
He nodded and gave me a warm smile before turning to leave. When he was gone, I exhaled in relief. I was going to see my friends tomorrow. Even if Rita wasn’t going to be there, it would be good to see everyone else. It had only been a few days, but a lot had happened, and I missed them terribly.
When I returned to the living room, Ethan and Lucas were deep in conversation, discussing strategies on how to take on Theodore. A wave of tiredness hit me, so I left them to it and climbed the stairs to Ethan’s bedroom, where I promptly fell asleep.
Sometime later, I found myself in an endless white room. A part of my brain knew I was dreaming, but it all seemed so real. I peered about. There was nothing there, just endless whiteness. I had a momentary thought that this must be what limbo felt like when a man appeared.
He was tall, with jet black hair, deeply tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. He stared at me, his eyes a reflection of my own.
His body pulsated with power, and it strangely affected me. My pores tingled, making me feel so much more alive.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice unexpectedly filled with wonder.
The man appeared to be middle-aged and was very handsome. He wore a pristine grey suit, a black shirt, and a silver tie. His tall form was broad, and I could tell he was sporting some serious muscle underneath his clothes.
A smile creased his eyes, and I got the distinct feeling that although he appeared to be no more than fifty years old, he was much, much older.
“You’ve been asking after me,” he said in a deep, attractive voice.
“I have?” My tone went up a notch at the end. I didn’t feel like I was in danger; however, I did feel a little intimidated.
“You have,” he stated. “I am Roman Patel.”
Roman Patel? My grandfather, Roman? Shock and awe filled me.
“Ah, right, uh, yes. Good. Thanks for, um, answering my call.”
This was so strange. How on earth could he have known I was asking Emilia about him when he wasn’t even supposed to know that my mother was his daughter? Or that Emilia had been pregnant with his child at all, for that matter.
“I can hear when people say my name,” he explained, answering my unvoiced question. “No one has uttered it in a long time, not until a couple of weeks ago when I heard an old lover say it to you.” He paused, and the silence dragged out as a thoughtful look crossed his features. “Why did she say it to you?”
Right, so maybe he didn’t know all the details, only that I was looking for him. Guess I’d better tell him then. “Because you’re my grandfather.”
The moment the words left my mouth he walked towards me until we were standing as close as possible. His chest pressed against mine, and his cool breath hit my cheeks.
“Your grandfather?” he breathed. “How?”
“Emilia Petrovsky is my grandmother. She had a baby girl who was yours, but she never told you about her. Her name was Darya. She passed away when I was little.”
He absorbed the information with an emotionless face. “So, you are my kin.” Reaching up, he trailed a hand down my cheek before gripping my shoulder. His hand was solid and firm.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Another smile. “Wonderful.”
And then I got the surprise of my life when his mouth descended on mine and he kissed me—with tongue! WTF?! I struggled to push him away, but his hands clamped down on me, holding me firmly in place. A tingle of what I could only describe as magic trickled through me, and I relaxed into the kiss, responding to it with an embarrassingly loud moan.