I DON’T KNOW WHAT KIND OF REACTION WILLIAMS expects from me. His expression is comical in its intensity. He looks like he’s afraid I’ll throw or hit something.
All I’m feeling is surprise and relief. To be rid of the last vestiges of Avery’s impact on my life is what I’ve dreamed of and fought for since the bastard insinuated himself in my life six months ago. Avery made me believe he loved me, that he wanted to help me adjust to life as a vampire. What he really wanted was control. He destroyed my house, kidnapped David and would have killed him if I hadn’t found him in time. I have no doubt he would have gone after my family next. When I drove a stake into Avery’s heart, I was not only protecting myself but all the humans I love. I’ve never regretted it.
Williams knows that.
I climb to my feet and turn to look down at him. “So. Avery had a wife. Good. Finally, I can be free. Be sure to thank her for me.”
His eyes widen a fraction. Then a slow, tight smile touches the corners of his lips. “Not so easy. Avery’s possessions are yours by vampiric right. She knows this.”
“I don’t care about vampiric rights. Why do we keep having this conversation? She can have every fucking thing Avery left. I don’t want anything. Tell her that. Have Culebra tell her that. If I have to sign something, tell her to send it over. I’ll sign any bloody document she wants. I want to get it over with. I want to be left alone.”
I don’t realize how loud I’m talking until I catch Williams’ look of warning and glance around. The bar has become suspiciously quiet and all eyes are locked on me.
Jesus. For the second time tonight, I’m the center of attention. Exactly what a vampire wants. Only this time, all the eyes and ears focused on me are human. Did they catch the vampiric rights thing, or was that early enough in the tirade to be missed?
Williams grabs my arm and pulls me back onto the bench. I let him, hoping to diffuse the tension with a meek smile and feeble hand wave to the room. “Sorry, folks. My bad. My father and I had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
Williams’ dark thoughts lash out. Father?
Would you prefer I said lover? All it would take is one of those lawyers at the bar to recognize you.
But I don’t have a daughter.
You don’t have a lover, either. At least not here, not now.
My gaze sweeps the room. People are turning back to their companions and partners, conversation resumes. No eyes linger on us. Disaster averted. Relax.
Relax? He’s practically foaming at the mouth. God, Anna. You are impossible. What the hell were you thinking?
I don’t answer. If I do, I’ll only spark another tirade. Williams and I are never going to see eye to eye on proper vampire conduct. Mostly because I don’t want to be a proper vampire. I slam the door on my thoughts and climb again to my feet.
“See you, Williams. If you won’t help me with Sandra, I’ll find a way to handle it myself. Either way, it will be over. I won’t expect to hear from you again. Thanks for once again reminding me of all the things I don’t want.”
Williams’ expression softens into the last I would have expected. Anger gives way to sadness. He shakes his head. “You’ll never get what you want. No matter how hard you try. I know you don’t believe that.” He looks away, then back at me. “It isn’t real, you know. At least it isn’t your reality.”
And in the next instant, he’s replaying my shopping trip with Trish this afternoon. Like a projected image, I see my face, glowing, expectant, when I look at her.
There’s only one way to accomplish such a thing. Fury threatens to choke me, but I force the words through gritted teeth. “You’re following me?”
He shakes his head. “Not me.”
“Then who?”
“It’s not important. What is important is the role you are destined to play, Anna. Until you accept, fully accept, what you are, you will be under surveillance. It’s not negotiable.”
He flips a ten-dollar bill onto the table and stands up. “So, go, live as a mortal in the limited capacity open to you. Soon enough the futility of it will become clear. You’ll come back to us, Anna, because you’ll have nowhere else to go.”
I stare at him as he walks away. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to. His last words hang in the air. It makes me sick to admit that Williams is right. No matter how hard I fight it, playacting can’t change the reality of what I am.
I shuffle myself away from the table and toward the door through which Gloria disappeared a few minutes before.
I never thought I’d prefer Gloria’s presence to well, anyone else, but right now, I need to get that last conversation out of my head.
I pause outside Gloria’s office door to compose myself. My insides are quivering with a combination of frustration, aggravation and rage. At Williams. At fate. At myself because I’ve put myself in this ridiculous position of agreeing to help Gloria. Why didn’t I tell her to go to hell this afternoon? If I had, I could be with my folks and Trish right now, pretending to eat Christmas cookies and listening to them laugh. Give Williams’ flunky something to think about. That’s the reality I want.
I glance around the bar, not really expecting to identify my tail. If I didn’t sense a presence before, I won’t now.
I look back at the door. The sooner I get this over with, the better. I don’t bother to knock. I grab the door handle and push.
Gloria is sitting in the same chair, in the same position as I found her this afternoon. This time, though, her eyes aren’t turned toward the window. She’s staring at a piece of paper clutched in a hand that’s shaking.
“What’s that, Gloria? Your cosmetics bill for the month?”
When her attention switches to me, the expression on her face changes from shock to fury. She jumps to her feet, lunges toward me.
“It’s a note from Rory,” she says, waving the paper at me. “That bastard is threatening to file suit against me. For fraud. He says he’ll claim millions in missing profits.”
Wow. I’m almost impressed with the ferocity of her wrath. “Looks like he’s changed his mind about the pussy, huh?”
It’s a crass, bitchy thing to say, but right now crass and bitchy is how I feel. Gloria is so mad at O’Sullivan, she lets my remark go unanswered.
I jab a thumb toward the door. “I guess you don’t really need me to hang around anymore. Obviously, O’Sullivan won’t be showing his face here. I doubt your business partner will want to dilute his claims against you by risking a countercharge of sexual harassment. Which means I don’t need to mitigate anything with David—”
“Mitigate what with David?”
The voice from the doorway makes the words lodge somewhere in the back of my throat. Reluctantly, I turn around.
My partner, David, ex-boyfriend of Gloria, or so I thought, is standing in the doorway. His blue eyes are alive with a spark I haven’t seen in weeks. When I look back at Gloria, she’s smiling at him, and her eyes mirror the same excitement.
A sick hollowness settles in the pit of my stomach.
Fuck. I thought my day was bad before. It’s getting worse.