- VERONICA -

It's frightening, for lack of a better word. The air seems to have petrified in my lungs as I stand there, nailed to the ground by the ghostly glow of his silver-grey eyes. He looks at me as if he can see everything in my head as if he's sitting in my heart taking notes of every passing of my emotions. There's a connection that I can't deny or shake loose, a bond pulling me in so tightly that I can almost see it. The real problem is that I know he feels it too, and that's what frightens me. I can't have this kind of connection between us. Not with him. Not with what I'm planning to do.

It's all my fault. I should have left him there and walk away without saying a word. What do I care if some kids catch him crying? It should have been satisfying to me to see him at his most vulnerable state. I should have humiliated him to my heart's content for what he's done to me. But I guess I'm not the cold-hearted bitch that I believed I am, and something I don't understand made me stop. Perhaps there's a part of me that understands what he's going through, and I would have hated to have some kids barge into my personal space like that. So now I'm standing here in front of my enemy, my heart twisting into a knot, as I try to figure out what to do with this part of him I've just discovered. The part of him that is too unnervingly similar to who and what I am now.

He turns to me half way, slipping his hands in the pockets of his long dark-grey overcoat. "You don't come here very often, do you?" He asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft and low, almost like he's speaking under his breath like he's been stunned by something and is still finding it difficult to breathe.

"Neither do you," I tell him. It's not hard to see. There are those who'd moved on that comes here often to speak to their loved ones, telling them things, talking as if someone is listening actively on the other side. Then there are those who stare at the tombstone like it's some kind of parasite, a cursed, wretched object that should never exist. People who never let go. People like me - like us. That recognition brings down something inside me and leaves me wide open. That's what frightens me.

He sucks in a breath, and I realize he must have felt it too. From the distance, Remus is staring at me like he's seeing me for the first time like I've just materialized in front of his eyes, and deep down I can't help but feel the same. We're two different beings, standing on what feels like the opposite side of the world, and yet it's as if I'm looking in the mirror, seeing a reflection of me overlapping on the image of him.

The phone buzzes in my pocket, and I almost jolt in alarm before fishing it out to look at the message. Chris just texted me to let me know he's arrived. I switch the app and open the door for him with my phone. It's what I do these days, despite how ridiculous it sounds. I let vampires into my house when I'm not home.

"I have to go," I tell him, putting the phone back in my pocket. "Chris and Rae are waiting for me at the cabin."

Remus releases a breath and looks over his shoulder at the horizon. The sun is completely gone, leaving only a faint glow above the hill. "Where are you parked?"

I give him a shrug. "I didn't drive here." I've always preferred walking to their graves. It gives me time to reflect on things, and I'm usually not focused enough to drive safely home.

"It's a long walk." He frowns. "And it's getting dark."

I want to ask him why he suddenly worries about my safety, but I figure the answer will be somewhere along the line of not wanting to lose his precious bait, and I don't feel like hearing it at the moment. "I can take care of myself."

He snorts at that. "Until you fail."

I cross my arms over my chest and grin knowingly at him. I know what he's doing. He's not the only man I've ever had to deal with. "You know, you don't have to come up with excuses to walk me home. It's all within your right to protect your investment," I tell him as I start walking back, "or should I say your pawn?"

He turns and follows at my heel, keeping an almost measured two steps behind. I almost forget how well mannered he is. "I never walk anyone home," he says with a chuckle. "I usually send Lucien."

"Except he wants to kill me."

Remus laughs a little, and I realize it might be the first time I've seen him so relaxed. "Lucien wants to kill everybody who gets too close to me or poses a threat. I wouldn't take it personally. But yes, he wants to kill you."

I figured out that much from their interactions. I also figured that Remus is enjoying that fact a little too much. "You're using me to piss him off right now, aren't you?" I can't help but feel amused at that thought. I never liked the way Lucien looked at me, even if we rarely ran into each other, and the idea of pissing him off by any means pleases me.

He returns even a wider grin than mine. "As it happens, I have several reasons to piss him off today."

As I open my mouth to respond, he grabs me by my upper arm and steers me a little over to the side. I look down and realize he's just saved my favorite pair of boots from stepping into a pretty deep puddle, and figure I should at least thank him. But Remus is already looking ahead, as if he's already forgotten about it, or that it was something he does on a regular basis, like a reflex, and without thinking. The one thing I notice about Remus Valentin is that while he can be such an arrogant pain in the ass sometimes, he's never pretentious around me. For someone so high up on the food chain, he wears his emotions pretty much on his sleeves, and I can see it so clearly now as he escorts me home, that he's enjoying the walk immensely, and not in the way that tells me he has other motives in mind like the other guys I've walked with. He's strolling at a slow pace, looking at the birds, the trees, the stars overhead, paying attention to anything but the fact that I'm his company. I should be more careful of him, more suspicious of everything he does, but that night I can't bring myself to. It's been a while since someone walks me home, and while he's a vampire, a highly dangerous one at that, he has no reason to harm me, not right now anyway.

We arrive at my front porch half an hour later without saying another word after that. It was a peaceful, quiet walk and I suppose both of us needed it after that visit to the cemetery. I unlock the door and step inside, heading straight to the kitchen where I know Chris and Rae would be waiting. That's where they like to wait for me, mostly because they're always raiding my fridge.

My kitchen is full of vampires, I frown as I step in. Chris is standing by the window, arms wrapped tightly across his chest, looking absentmindedly at the woods outside. Rae is sitting at one end of the dining table, sipping her tea with her feet stretched out on the tabletop, and on the opposite end, I find Lucian, here, for the first time since I had him in my attic, doing the same thing, just without his feet up.

They look up in my direction when I enter, and then their gazes stop dead at Remus who walked in a few seconds later and is now leaning on the doorframe behind me, looking as if he's done this every day and the fact that he's just arrived with me is nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever.

It's like seeing a high commander walk into a room full of privates. Chris straightened abruptly, almost spilling the content of his cup, while Rae immediately puts her feet down and shoots up from her seat to vacate it for him, apologizing as she does. Lucien, calmer and a lot more graceful than the rest, stand up to greet him with the most practiced, elegant bow I've ever seen in my life given how slight the gesture is.

Behind me, Remus doesn't even stir. He simply walks forward and takes over Rae's seat, waves a hand as if to say, 'at ease,' and leans back on the chair.

It was pretty much useless. I don't think anyone was remotely at ease as they wait for Lucien to pour him a cup of tea and delivers it to his hand before heading back to his seat. I look around the kitchen again and I realize they're sitting in order of rank, and suddenly my cabin feels like an uptight, official headquarter of some military unit.

I look at Remus who appears exactly the same man who'd just walked me home, showing not the slightest change of attitude, and it dawns on me, that this is how it is around him every day, and that he's used to it, to the point that he doesn't feel the suffocating tension in the room right now. I can now see why he enjoyed that walk. I would enjoy it too if everyone acts so constipated around me.

This, however, is my house, and I'm not going to allow anyone to suffocate me in my kitchen.

"Remind me," I say as I take at the seat next to Remus, dragging the chair back far enough to prop my feet comfortably on the table, in front of his face, "to put him in the attic the next time he visits."

Rae nearly chokes on her tea, and her eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets. Chris, to my delight, tries to stifle a laugh. Lucien, however, is glaring at me hard enough to burn a hole in my forehead. I enjoy that last bit the most.

"What the hell did I do?" Remus blinks at me.

"You're making everyone uncomfortable," I tell him and cut him off before he can open his mouth to protest. "What do you have for me, Chris?"

Chris gives me a painful smile, before bringing out his notebook computer and places it on the table. "Well, I found out who that guy is," he says, typing something into the computer and then turns it over for me to see, which is in the same direction where Remus is sitting.

The screen shows me a page with a big blue 'W' on the top, and a rather good picture of the guy who's been actively hitting on me at the same bar I went to in the past two weeks, despite the fact that I was obviously occupied with someone Chris had sent to accompany me. The fact that he's always surrounded by superhero-size bodyguards and how bold he was when he'd approached me puts Chris on pretty high alert. I read the name under the picture and something about it tugs hard on my memory.

"Damien Wesley," Chris explains, eyeing Remus as he does. "Son and only heir to William Wesley, CEO of Wesley Corporations, the parent company of Prime Real Estates, Crown holdings, Summit Hospitality, Orion hotels and resorts, and the list goes on and on. The guy owns half the companies on this side of the continent and more on others. Business-wise, he's well connected with everybody from senators to drug lords. Long story short, nothing happens around here without some money going into his pockets or without his blessing. I think you've just hit the jackpot, to be honest."

It appears that I have. "So you're saying that whoever's running the syndicate has to either pay him or ask for permission?"

Chris grins widely at that. "If it's not Wesley himself that's running it, yes."

This might be the easiest and quickest way to root out the syndicate. If I can get the son to take me to his home where his father operates, I should be able to grab a lot of information that will lead to the source of this blood business. Seeing that for the past three weeks we've gotten no closer to finding out the connection between all the middlemen, this is considered either pure luck or a gift from God.

"Looks like I'm going to need a change of outfit if you want me to hook a fish that big," I say, chuckling at Chris.

"You're going to need a lot more than that." From across the table, Lucien speaks for the first time, his tone light and laced with something incredibly toxic. He puts his mug down, leans back on his chair, then looks at me from head to toe as if I'm some kind of an insect crawling on his food. "Do you know how to hook a fish that big, Miss Wolf?"

It takes all my effort to not walk over there and bust his teeth in, but I'm not going to rise to the occasion and give him the satisfaction of being able to rile me up that easily.

"No, do you?" I ask, holding his gaze as I offer him the same look he's giving me. "Because if you've somehow managed to sleep your way to the top, I'd sure like to learn a few things."

From across the table, Rae is trying hard not to laugh, and I realize then that this might be the first time someone has the nerve to speak to him that way. Chris, on the other hand, and to my surprise, remains focused on the screen of his computer. He hasn't looked at Lucien even once since I've walked in here or say a single word to him, now that I think about it.

Remus clears his throat before Lucien could respond, and I suddenly remember what my words implied the other way around.

"I think I can vouch for his innocence on that issue," Remus says with a chuckle. "Lucien, that is enough," he adds, not with any hint of humor this time. "Chris, continue."

Chris nods politely and brings out a black and gold envelope that looks like an invitation of some kind. "There is a ball for the opening of his father's new hotel next Friday. Everyone important will be there. Since he doesn't know who you are yet, I'm thinking of giving you a new identity for you to appear at the ball and reintroduce yourself properly to Damien. If you want to be included in the inner circle and get yourself invited into their homes, you're going to have to appear as one of them."

He's right. It's a great opportunity not only to get information from the Wesleys, but also to observe his acquaintance at a social gathering. It does, as Chris says, require men to appear as someone who belongs in that circle. Damien isn't going bring home a prostitute he's met at some bar. That takes a lot of preparation. "It's five days away." I grimace as I think about it.

"I know." Chris sighs heavily. "We're going to have to set everything up pretty fast. Do you think you'll be ready by then?"

Now I see the problem, and I can't help but feel that Lucien has a point, despite my itch to slam his head into the wall. I'm as far from being an upper class, pampered daughter of some billionaire as a toad is to a bird. I don't think I would know which fork I'm supposed to use first if they present me with ten or however many these people think they need to use, and I'd probably end up humiliating myself by spilling soup on my dress or something similar before the end of the night. Moreover, I look around the room and I don't see anyone here who might have the slightest idea how I should behave in that circle. Well, maybe Lucien, but we'd probably end up killing each other with the fork before he finishes teaching me how to hold it. On top of it all, I have less than a week. I have to appear well-bred and blue-blooded enough to convince him I'm worthy of bringing home, as opposed to a hotel somewhere or simply its bathroom. There's no way I'll be ready in time to do this even if someone can teach me how. Not by myself anyway. The more I think about it, the more I believe I should just give up and tell Chris to find another solution.

I open my mouth to say exactly that, but my eyes catch the sight of Lucien who's sitting there smirking at me triumphantly from across the table, knowing that he's right, and that's the end of the conversation.

Fuck it, I swear furiously in my head and turn, without thinking or allowing myself one second of hesitation, towards Remus Valentin whose fault it is entirely that I'm being put into this situation.

"You're coming with me."