Oscar had been waving a chicken leg around as he spoke, but now bit into it, and chewed with satisfaction as everyone else stared in shock. Well, everyone but Elspeth and Meredith. This wasn't the first time they'd heard his opinions, and it seemed obvious Meredith was no more impressed than her to hear them again. But while Meredith looked furious, and Elspeth was angry on her behalf, it was Wyatt who responded. Setting down his fork, he sat back, took a deep breath and briefly contemplated his grandmother's angry face before turning to Violet to ask, "Do you really want to be with this man?"
"Of course she does," Oscar snapped, dropping the now gnawed chicken leg and reaching for the bucket to retrieve another. "Violet knows how lucky she is to have me. Who else would put up with her lousy cooking and nagging ways?"
"I asked Aunt Violet," Wyatt growled, and then peered at her expectantly.
When Violet hesitated, Elspeth shifted her gaze to the woman and slipped into her mind to read her thoughts. Much to her surprise, Violet didn't know what she wanted. She loathed her husband and the way he treated everyone, including herself. She always had. But she was afraid to be alone, and to her mind, she'd invested so much time in the man, she felt she had to stick it out.
Releasing her breath on a sigh, Violet shrugged unhappily. "I married him for better or worse."
Nodding, Wyatt stood and moved to grab his phone off the kitchen counter. After some tapping on the screen, he finally held the phone to his ear and then said, "Good evening. I'd like a taxi at--"
"Taxi?" Oscar interrupted, scowling at his nephew. "What the hell do you need a taxi for?"
Wyatt ignored him until he'd finished his call, and then hung up and said, "For you and Aunt Vi, Oscar. I assumed, since you obviously think so little of Grandmother, you'd want to leave her home. Immediately."
"Well, you thought wrong," the old man snapped. "I'm not done eating yet. Besides, you were supposed to drive us home. I'm not paying for any damned taxi."
"I'll pay," Wyatt said firmly as he set his phone back on the counter.
"Fine." Oscar shrugged indifferently, and then pulled the bucket of chicken closer. "But the taxi will have to wait until I'm done eating."
Wyatt narrowed his eyes, and then began to search through the cupboards until he found his grandmother's plastic food wrap. Bringing it to the table, he tore off a sheet and wrapped it over Oscar's paper plate, announcing, "You can take your meal to go . . . and consider yourself lucky that I'm making that offer. You've insulted my grandmother and Aunt Vi both, and while Aunt Vi seems willing to put up with it, I won't have you insulting Gran in her own home. You aren't welcome here, Oscar."
The old man scowled briefly, and then stood and snatched away his plate. "Mouthy little shit. I'm going to tell your father about the shabby way you treat your elders. Don't think I won't."
"That's fine, because I plan to tell him about how disrespectful you are to his mother," Wyatt said coldly.
Grunting at that, Oscar turned and shambled out of the kitchen with his plate. "Come on, Violet. We'll wait for the taxi on the porch."
"You don't have to go," Wyatt said quietly when Violet stood to follow her husband.
Pausing, she offered him a pained smile. "Oscar and I have caused your grandmother enough trouble." She turned to Meredith then and said, "I'm sorry, Merry. I never should have told him about Madeleine. I was just so outraged at what she'd done, and I didn't think he could use it against you. I'm sorry."
Violet didn't wait for Meredith to respond, but hurried out of the room after Oscar.
Wyatt followed, presumably to pay the driver when he arrived, and then Meredith stood and quickly wrapped up Violet's still full paper plate of food with more plastic wrap before rushing after them. The moment she'd gone, Elspeth sat back with a sigh. She'd needed to let Wyatt see what Oscar was really up to, but hated the idea that Meredith might have been hurt by Oscar yet again.
On the bright side, though, it looked like Meredith would never have to deal with the man again. Wyatt would see to that. And she was quite sure the odious man would never influence Wyatt's father again either. Meredith was, hopefully, now safe from the threat of being put in a home. On top of that, Elspeth had been given a break from the scent of mortals for a few minutes. Dear God, she needed blood, and if she didn't get some soon, she was definitely going to be a threat to Meredith and Wyatt.
That thought uppermost in her mind, Elspeth stood abruptly.
"Where are you going?" her mother asked sharply, reaching toward her.
Avoiding her hand, Elspeth stepped to the side so that her chair was between herself and her mother. Mouth tight, she said, "I'm going to go up and see if the blood was delivered while we were eating."
"Oh, that's not coming until midnight," Julianna said cheerfully.
"Midnight?" Elspeth asked sharply, her gaze shooting to her mother. Noting the way she was scowling at Julianna for spilling the beans, Elspeth growled and spun away to leave the room.
"Where are you going, Elspeth?"
Elspeth stopped in the hall the moment she spotted Meredith and the others beyond the open apartment door. Not wanting to risk running amuck and attacking one of them in her need for blood, Elspeth swung to the left to head toward the back of the apartment.
"Elspeth, where do you think you are going?" Martine demanded, hard on her heels.
"For some fresh air," Elspeth ground out, picking up speed to avoid being touched and controlled again.
Crossing Meredith's living room, Elspeth opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the porch. She then turned back and pulled the door firmly closed, scowling at her mother in warning as she did. Elspeth really didn't have the patience to deal with her just now and if Martine insisted on following and trying to touch her again, she was likely to hop over the porch rail and head straight for her car.
Elspeth suspected her mother was reading her and caught that last thought, for Martine stopped abruptly and then headed away, leaving her alone.
Releasing her breath on a sigh, Elspeth turned and paced to the rail. Fingers clenching the cold wood, she leaned against it and stared out at the garden. It was April, and the weather had been doing a crazy dance, one day warm enough that a jacket was unnecessary, the next cool enough that a winter coat was needed. Today it was somewhere in the middle. A light jacket would have been more comfortable and being without one left her chilled. Not that she really noticed. The pain eating her up inside was a tad distracting. All Elspeth could think of was the quickest way to get blood. She was not waiting until midnight, and she didn't want to rush out to the Enforcer House while Mortimer and Sam were trying to eat dinner. It was the only point in the day when the pair got any private time to themselves. Mortimer set it up that way, sending hunters out on their evening calls before the meal, and refusing to answer the phone during dinner. That was why Elspeth didn't start her shift until eight or nine o'clock at night. She liked to give the couple as much alone time as possible before showing up. It couldn't be easy living there, with hunters coming and going all day and night, and people often staying at the house with them for days or even weeks on end.
No, she wasn't heading out to the house early. The Night Club was the answer, and she intended to head there the minute Oscar and Violet had left in their taxi and Wyatt and Meredith had returned to the kitchen. She didn't want to run an obstacle course of blood-filled mortals to get out of here. Not the way she was feeling.
Lowering her head, Elspeth closed her eyes and breathed slowly in and out, trying to focus on that rather than her pain. It wasn't working at all, so she was almost relieved when she heard the sliding door open behind her. Expecting it to be her mother, Elspeth straightened and turned abruptly, ready to battle with her, only to find herself staring at Wyatt.
"Your mother asked me to bring you your coat," he said and held up her lightweight black leather jacket.
"Oh," Elspeth breathed, but her mind was racing. Her mother had obviously sent him out here for
her to "snack on," and that just infuriated her. She needed to get the heck out of there right now and go to The Night Club.
"Are Oscar and Violet gone?" she asked abruptly.
"Yes," he said, his mouth thinning, and then he sighed and said, "I'm sorry about them."
"It's not me you should be apologizing to. Meredith--"
"I know," he interrupted solemnly. "She told me why he was doing what he was doing, but instead of taking her word for it, I put us all through this . . ." He waved vaguely back toward the sliding glass doors and grimaced. "I should have believed her. I guess I should trust her more."
"You should," Elspeth said firmly. "Your grandmother is not a doddering old fool. She's smart, and funny, and very kind."
Wyatt considered her solemnly for a moment and then said, "She says you spend a lot of time together."
Elspeth sighed wearily. He might have come to recognize that Oscar was just out to hurt Meredith, but he obviously still had his suspicions about her. Unfortunately, she was desperate for blood, and didn't have the patience to reassure him properly. The best she could do was say, "I know you're just looking out for your grandmother, and I appreciate that. I'm glad she has people who care about her but, believe it or not, I'm not interested in her money. Now if you'll just give me my coat, I really need to get out of here."
"Get out of here?" he echoed, his eyebrows rising.
"Yes," she said firmly, holding her hand out. "It's actually an emergency. So, please . . ."
Wyatt was silent for a moment and then held up her leather jacket by the collar, but without really moving it closer to her. She'd have to step nearer to claim it.
Elspeth hesitated, not wanting to reduce the distance between them. She could smell him from where she stood, and his scent made her think of both food and sex. The food part wasn't surprising. At the moment, he was looking like a blood bag on legs. The sex, though, that caught her by surprise. Although Elspeth supposed it shouldn't. He was one hell of an attractive specimen, and it wasn't just his pretty face, and well-built body. She also liked the way he carried himself. Wyatt moved with the confidence and grace of a man who knew how to handle himself. She found that incredibly attractive.
Pressing her lips tight together, Elspeth reached for her jacket, but rather than hand it over, Wyatt opened it and slid the arm hole over her hand and partway up her arm before walking around behind her to help her don the other sleeve as well.
Elspeth stiffened and closed her eyes. Of course he'd be a gentleman. That just figured, didn't it? Grinding her teeth together, she held her other hand back behind her so that he could slide the jacket up onto her shoulders and draw it around in front. The action brought him close up behind her. But he wasn't done. Next, he caught her long hair and lifted it out from under the collar for her. Elspeth bit her lip as his scent enveloped her, but feeling the sharp fangs pressing into her upper lip, she pressed her mouth tightly closed and struggled to force her fangs back up and out of sight.
"What kind of emergency?"
Elspeth shuddered as he whispered those words by her ear, but not because of what he said. She barely took note of the words. Her focus was centered wholly on his mouthwatering scent, the feel of his breath brushing her ear, and the heat of his body at her back.
"You're trembling."
Elspeth blinked her eyes open at that soft rumble by her ear, and then tried to step away from him, but he caught her hand to stop her and then gave a tug that drew her around to face him. She could have freed herself easily, but didn't have the wherewithal to do it. She didn't want to. Instead, Elspeth wanted to move closer to him and run her hands up his arms as she buried her nose in his neck and inhaled the enticing aroma wafting to her. His scent was spicy and sweet at the same time with a tinny hint of the blood rushing through his veins. It was positively delicious to Elspeth, heady even, and she wanted to press her body against his. She wanted to feel his chest against her breasts as she moved her hands up to clasp his head and then turn and tilt it slightly so that she could sink her teeth into--
"Your eyes."
Elspeth blinked away the image in her mind and focused on his face at those words.
"I thought I'd imagined how beautiful they are," he breathed with wonder. "That bright blue, with little sparks of silver that--" His words died suddenly and she caught a glimpse of the blank look that slid over his face. Then he pulled her closer, one hand sliding to the back of her head to urge her face toward the side of his neck. Elspeth knew at once that this was her mother. That Martine had taken control of him and was trying to make it impossible for her not to feed on him. And it almost worked. Elspeth nearly gave in and bit him, but then her gaze moved past his shoulder and she spotted her mother through the glass doors. Martine stood in Meredith's living room, her gaze concentrated, but it was Merry entering the room behind her mother that snapped her out of it, and stopped her from biting Wyatt.
A soft curse slipping from her lips, Elspeth abruptly jerked her head to the side and away from his neck.
She should have turned to the right, away from his face. Instead Elspeth turned to the left and her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. Martine must have released the control she'd taken of Wyatt then. Merry had no doubt startled her and broken her concentration, Elspeth thought, but whatever the case, Wyatt's embrace eased and confusion flashed briefly on his face as she glanced up to him. Before she could slip out of his arms, though, he inhaled deeply, his pupils dilating, and then his head lowered toward hers.
Elspeth froze with surprise as his lips brushed soft and warm across hers, shocked by the tingle that started on contact, and then slithered through her body, raising another hunger to clamor next to the bloodlust. When his tongue slid along the seam between her lips, she opened to him without thinking. His tongue swept in and the tingle turned into an explosion of hunger and need that left her in chaos, both mind and body.
Truly, Elspeth had never experienced such raw need and desire. Not that she'd had a lot of experience. Life with her mother had stifled her in a lot of ways, but she had been kissed before. Just never like this, never with such hunger and command. Now Elspeth's heart was racing, her body warming and melting into his, her hands clutching at the front of his shirt, and her lips clinging as his mouth moved over hers, drawing a deep, needy moan from her throat that he answered with a groan of his own.
When he urged her upper body back and tugged her jacket open so that he could cup her breasts through the cloth of her shirt, Elspeth broke their kiss on a gasp and let her head fall back. He pushed her jacket and shirt off her shoulder and began to nibble his way down her throat to press kisses along her collarbone while he continued to caress her breasts, and Elspeth murmured excitedly and lifted her head. She then opened her eyes to find the left side of his neck exposed, the vein visible and throbbing with the blood rushing through it.
Elspeth felt her fangs drop down and ran her tongue over them, her gaze shifting to the living room again. Her mother was still there, her expression concentrated again, but Meredith was still there too . . . only now her expression was blank. Martine was controlling her as well now. She was controlling all of them, Elspeth thought with a frown. Playing them like puppets, making her and Wyatt do this, no doubt infusing their minds with this incredible passion. It wasn't real, none of it, except her hunger for blood.
That thought infuriated her. Elspeth snapped her mouth closed and pushed herself backward out of Wyatt's arms. She bumped up against the porch railing.
"El?" he asked softly when she began to slide to the side along the rail.
Unable to open her mouth for fear of revealing the fangs she hadn't yet managed to force back up, Elspeth just shook her head and turned away to walk quickly to the end of the porch.
"Elspeth? Just tell me . . ." Wyatt's words died abruptly when she hopped over the porch rail to the muddy ground below and moved quickly to the gate that opened to the side yard.
Wyatt stared after Elspeth with amazement un
til she slipped through the gate and disappeared, and then he hopped the rail and hurried after her. He was terribly confused. He hadn't planned on kissing her when he'd come outside. In fact, he didn't really recall deciding to even come out and bring her the jacket. He remembered Martine Pimms saying Elspeth had stepped out for some air, and had some vague recollection of her suggesting he should take the jacket out to her. And then he'd found himself taking the jacket off the chair and heading out to the porch without consciously deciding he would.
The weirdness didn't stop there. When Elspeth had held her hand out to take the coat, he'd started to hand it over and then instead was suddenly helping her into it, and moving up close behind her to lift her hair out from beneath the collar. He remembered tugging her around, and pressing her against his chest, urging her face into the curve of his throat, but had no idea why he'd done it. It had felt like he was just a passenger in his body, watching it do things he hadn't decided on doing.
Kissing her, though, that had been him, Wyatt acknowledged to himself as he reached the gate. She'd been in his arms, her scent filling his nostrils, her body warm against his. He'd looked down into her beautiful eyes and his mind had filled with the memory of other times he'd held her in his arms. He hadn't been able to resist kissing her. He should have, Wyatt supposed. He had all sorts of questions when it came to this woman. How she could have forgotten him, if she really had? Why she was pretending to have forgotten if she hadn't? What her game was, and why she was insinuating herself so deeply in his grandmother's life? But none of that had seemed to matter in that moment, and then their mouths had met and . . . dear God, he'd managed to convince himself over the years that he'd imagined the depth of their passion, just as he'd been sure he'd imagined the silver tint to her eyes. But he hadn't imagined anything. Like he remembered, passion had exploded between them as hard and fast as an IED. Or maybe a firebomb was a better description, because he'd immediately been on fire for her.