She valued their mutual love for the city of Cameron and that he worked tirelessly to make it a safe place for all realm-folk.
Later, the gallery owner had stunned her with the news that an anonymous art collector had paid full price for all three of the Cameron cityscapes, the ones that had felt very realm to her when she’d painted them.
In short, the night had given her about everything she could have dreamed so that by the time she headed home, her spirits soared. Her exhibition had exceeded all expectations and had launched her into a new level of professional success. At the same time, it seemed that her love life was headed in a much better direction as well.
Crawling into bed after four in the morning, she felt sure that Yolen would call her within the next two days and maybe even set up a time to get together mid-week. With his change of heart about attending her exhibition, he’d finally begun the process of understanding all that she needed from their relationship.
But the next night, when she didn’t hear from Yolen at all, she began to have doubts about exactly what had happened on Saturday, that maybe Yolen hadn’t really altered his views on dating after all.
By Monday, without one peep from him, she was livid.
Tuesday brought a guilt-ridden sense that it was all her fault for expecting too much from the vampire, followed shortly by an intense dissatisfaction with this line of thinking.
A very silent Wednesday arrived, however, decimating her hopes that things would ever truly change. Apparently, Yolen thought that attending the exhibition was the be-all, end-all when she’d viewed it merely as a lovely beginning.
* * * * * * * * *
Yolen thought about calling Brianna, but decided against it. As much as he wanted to see her, even longed to be with her, he felt it important to stick to his routine. If her broke the rules he’d set up, he feared giving her a false sense of what he’d be willing to do in the future.
Besides, he was closing in on the latest kingpin. He’d gotten a piece of news recently from one of his informants that the newest boss lived in the Cameron Heights area. This was a well-to-do part of the city, which meant that the latest drug lord probably had contacts all throughout the business community.
This shed a new light on the identity of the man he’d been hunting for the past year and though thousands of families lived in the Heights, Yolen had already begun a street by street search of all the residents, separating out those that might possibly have drug-trafficking connections.
To his surprise, Keynes’s name popped up.
Yolen frowned at his computer. Was it possible that Keynes had a connection to the latest increase in drugs in Cameron?
***
Chapter Four
Wednesday at midnight, Brianna stood in the middle of her studio, staring at her cell as though it had grown horns, as though somehow the rectangular piece of technology was the reason Yolen hadn’t called.
He’d pressed her up against the gallery workroom wall, taken from her throat, and made her feel like all things were possible in her relationship with him.
Then he hadn’t called.
And still she stared at her phone as though she expected a miracle or something.
But why should he have called? After all, Yolen hadn’t exactly revoked his no-call policy when he’d come to the exhibition. He hadn’t made any other promises, he hadn’t talked about how things would be different, and he definitely hadn’t said he’d call her.
So why had she thought that their experience on Saturday night would have changed things?
Plain and simple, Yolen liked his boxes.
She remembered that old saying about insanity, about doing the same thing over and over yet each time expecting a different result.
The only thing that had changed since last Friday was that Yolen had broken his own rule and had shown up at her exhibition. That’s all. Apparently, having made a concession to attend her art show, he felt he’d fulfilled his duty and everything went back to normal.
Brianna decided that she hated Yolen’s version of normal. In fact, she was so fed up, she couldn’t do his kind of normal one more second.
Going against his no-calling rule, she made the leap and a few seconds later heard him answer. He sounded surprised, a trace of panic in his voice. “Brianna, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? I’m calling you. That’s what normal people do. They call each other when they’re dating, especially when they have hot, inappropriate sex in workrooms.”
“But we don’t talk on the phone. I have a rule about that. An important one.”
“Yes, I know.” Her temper rose a notch. “That’s why I’m calling.”
A pause. “I don’t understand. You’re calling because we don’t talk on the phone?”
“No, I’m calling because you have a rule about talking on the phone. I just broke your rule because I need to know why you haven’t called me since you drank me down at the gallery.”
A longer pause this time. “You’re angry.”
“Ya think?”
A deep sigh followed, laced with a strong dose of exasperation. “I’m hunting the most dangerous man in Cameron right now. If I can locate him, I’ll save lives. That’s why I haven’t called. That’s the only reason.”
“Right. You’re saving lives. I forgot.” He liked pulling out the guilt-trip, taking it for a spin. But she couldn’t ride anymore. She needed a real life, a real boyfriend, and that meant time, attention and commitment. If he couldn’t do that, she needed to move on.
“Brianna, I really can’t talk right now. We’re still on for Friday, though, right? That hasn’t changed? I’ve set up something special for you. You’ll see. It’ll make things better, I promise.”
Her turn to pause. The truth was she no longer cared. He could light up a two hour fireworks display and she wouldn’t give a damn. But she ought to be face-to-face with him when she said her final good-bye. “Fine.”
“You sound funny. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m terrific actually. You know what. Forget I called. It was a mistake. I’ll see you Friday night.”
“Okay, then.” He might have started to say something else, but a certain numbness had stolen through her and she pressed the screen to end the call.
For a long time after, she remained where she was, next to her most recent canvas that depicted the waterfall at Sweet Gorge.
The call to Yolen had blown all her hopes to hell and beyond.
But what she really couldn’t figure out was why she’d thought anything would be different?
She recalled the smile on his face as he’d said good-bye that night, then the confident ease of his stride, the impression he gave that all was right with his world.
And now here she was setting her phone on her worktable and not feeling much of anything, except a need to be done with a relationship that just wasn’t working and probably never would.
* * * * * * * * *
Yolen stared at his phone and frowned.
He wasn’t sure what about Brianna’s call bothered him so much, but he felt unsettled like his world had tipped on its axis yet again.
He sat at his desk, a stack of drug-related cases waiting for him to review. He was in the middle of going through all the files from the previous twelve months that had any relationship to drugs, whether homicide, or dealing, or overdoses, anything.
Then Brianna had called. And something in her voice had disturbed him.
His work often required that he go with his gut, even if the numbers didn’t add up to the right sum. And right now his gut was screaming that despite what she’d said, things weren’t right with his woman and that she wasn’t fine.
For one thing, he didn’t like the overall tone of the call. Although, he still didn’t understand why the hell she’d called in the first place. He’d been up front with her from the beginning, that he devoted himself to his work, essentially to the city, to making Cameron a safe place for go
od citizens everywhere.
And right now he was inches away from uncovering the identity of the latest kingpin, the most recent asshole to move drugs heavily through this part of Bergisson Realm. If he could get rid of the monster quickly, he’d have a good shot at making serious, long-term progress in stemming the tide of drugs.
He went back to his original thought that Brianna didn’t really understand how important his work was or that her own safety depended on a certain amount of physical distance. The drug element in his world had started using wraith-pairs to beef up their operations and had targeted him and his fellow detectives. That’s how Alec had died as well as his woman.
He planted his elbows on his desk and made one big fist with both hands. He leaned down and pressed his chin onto his knuckles, a sure sign the whole thing disturbed him far more than his rational brain assured him was necessary.
He just didn’t get it. He’d given her what she wanted. He’d come to the gallery when she knew how opposed he’d been to taking time off from work. Yet somehow, she still expected even more from him.
He admitted that after being with her on Saturday night, even he’d been tempted to break his rule and set up a mid-week hook-up. But he believed in what he was doing and he’d kept his mind and his energies on solving Alec’s murder and on uncovering the latest head of Cameron’s drug-trafficking scourge.
In the end, he let the phone call go. In two days, he’d see Brianna again and talk this out with her once more. He’d take her back to his place like he’d planned to do last Friday, which he hoped would help her to know that he really did love her, that she was important to him.
With that, he pulled the file from the top of the tall stack, and started reading.
* * * * * * * * *
Brianna was about to set her phone down and get back to her painting, when her cell lit up.
Her heart jumped so hard in her chest that she gasped. Yolen. Maybe he’d called her back. That would mean something.
But when she saw the caller’s name, she frowned. “Hello?”
“Brianna?”
“Yes.”
“Mastyr Keynes here. Just thought I’d give you a shout and see how you’re doing?”
She hadn’t given him her number, which meant he’d taken the time to hunt it down. “I’m good.” Okay, that was a lie. She moved to her stool near her oversized work table and sat down. “How are you?”
“Terrific. Thanks for asking. And how is, now let me see, rose madder, zinc white, and Naples yellow all doing?”
She stared at the paints lined up in their neat wood box and even touched the tubes of the same names. “We’re all doing fine. Am I to guess that you’ve recently taken up painting in your spare time?”
“Nah. I just looked up oil paints online. Funny names.”
She smiled and twirled one of her long locks around her index finger. “I know what you mean.” He put her at ease.
“I went back to the gallery on Tuesday.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I wanted you to know that I bought one of your paintings.”
She put a hand to her chest. Had she completely misjudged this man? “Which one?”
“The one called, ‘Sunset’.”
“Oh, that’s one of my favorites. I had a troll friend take about a hundred pics last summer and I built the painting from there.”
“Well, it’s beautiful. I’ve hung it in my library.”
“I’m flattered.” And she was. Mastyr Keynes had a number of businesses in Cameron, and apparently a couple in nearby Shreveport as well. She didn’t know a lot about him, but he had strong connections to the States and did some major importing of Chinese porcelain. Maybe in the coming weeks, she’d learn more about his work. Maybe she’d discover that he liked to date women at all sorts of freakish times, like on a Thursday or even a Sunday. Wouldn’t that be original?
“So, I was wondering. Are you free Friday night?”
The question of the hour: was she free? Was it time to make some changes?
Much to her surprise, her decision came swiftly. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“Would you like to join me for dinner?”
He’d named some oil colors and he’d bought one of her paintings. Her boyfriend of a full year had left the gallery without purchasing even one of her numbered prints.
“I think that would be lovely.”
“I was thinking of that Italian place on Central. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful.” And it did despite the fact that she’d never really valued Keynes before.
After settling the time, she hung up and once more pressed her hand to her chest. She had that full feeling again, the result apparently of having fed Yolen for an entire year.
Now, the tougher question. Just how was she to go about breaking up with Yolen? But after his completely indifferent attitude toward her since Saturday night, that question got answered almost as easily as she set her fingers to her phone and texted him: ‘I think we need a break. Talk to you in a couple of weeks. Take care of yourself.’
* * * * * * * * *
Yolen stared at the file that involved an arrest he’d made month ago. Keynes’s name had come up in the interview, very briefly.
Keynes again, which made him wonder. Keynes was a mastyr vampire, one of a group of disenfranchised mastyrs with more power than their counterparts and not a lot of places to use it. Was it possible Keynes, with his various business interests as a front, had a connection to Bergisson’s drug trade?
His phone dinged. He didn’t get a lot of texts and certainly not one from Brianna. When he read it, he scowled.
At first, the words didn’t even make sense and they absolutely refused to arrange themselves logically. What ‘break’? And she didn’t need to worry. He always took care of himself.
When he finally figured it out, he stood up and almost dropped his phone. What the hell?
Brianna thought they needed a break?
In other words, after all this time she was breaking up with him?
He still didn’t understand what the problem was. He’d made a huge concession and had gone to her exhibition against all his current convictions. What more did she want? And if it was a phone call now and then, he just didn’t see the point.
But something was clearly wrong and he wasn’t about to accept her text as the final word on anything.
Closing his office door, he called her, intent more than anything on telling her yet again that she was being ridiculous and that they’d talk everything out once and for all on Friday night.
However, much to his surprise, she didn’t answer her phone, which also made no sense. She was the one who wanted to talk, but now that he was calling her, she wasn’t picking up.
Not then, not when he tried again five minutes later, or the two dozen times over the next several hours.
He’d gotten her voice mail each time and left several messages, some of them irritated as hell.
Finally, he gave up. He didn’t need this kind of shit. He had more important things to do than chase after a woman. He had a city to protect, cases to solve, and a dangerous kingpin to get rid of before more lives were lost.
He didn’t try reaching her on Thursday, but by early Friday morning just before dawn, when he was finishing up interrogating one of the new kingpin’s lieutenants, he became seriously alarmed. Brianna still hadn’t returned any of his calls.
Not one.
Though it went against the grain with him, instead of heading home for the day, he set a course for Brianna’s home, flying straight to her backyard. But what he saw there sent chills straight through him.
She was in her studio at the back of her house, in her paint-splashed smock, sitting on her stool. Next to her and looking smug as hell, Keynes leaned against her tall work table. He held a mug, smiling at her over the rim as he took a drink, wearing the look of a vampire chatting up his next donor.
She pushed a strand of her long bl
ond hair behind her ear, the one with the three thin rings. She looked happy and relaxed, except that while she talked more than once she pressed her hand to her chest. She’d been doing that a lot in recent weeks. Keynes followed the movement as well.
Yolen’s first impulse was to throw himself through the back windows and battle Keynes to the death.
But the fact that he’d so thoroughly misjudged the situation with Brianna caused him instead to fall to a place of deep vampire stillness. He’d thought himself so secure with her that it had never occurred to him for even a moment that she could be interested in another man.
But why, Keynes? She’d always disparaged his character yet here he was somehow having wormed his way into her house within the space of a few days. To Yolen’s knowledge, the first words Brianna had ever exchanged with Keynes had taken place last Friday night. Now he appeared to be setting up camp in her home, drinking from her mug, smiling at her.
But dawn was coming and a warning streak of pain shot up his spine. He needed to get himself home and so did Keynes, which meant like hell Yolen would leave until that bastard got out of his woman’s house.
Without hesitation, his feet began to move in an orderly fashion across the back lawn, onto the brick walkway, and up the brick steps to the back door.
He could be civil.
He didn’t bother knocking, however, but moved right into her studio.
Brianna’s eyes went wide. “Yolen, what are you doing here?”
Keynes, on the other hand, didn’t look all that surprised and it was to the bastard that he said, “Isn’t it about time you took to the skies, Mastyr Keynes? You know, before the sun hits your sorry ass and fries you to a crisp? Because like hell you’re staying in this house for the day.” He lowered his chin and let the other vampire feel his battle vibration. If he wanted to fight, Yolen would happily take him on, even if Keynes did have the upper hand because of his mastyr status.
At the same time, Yolen’s mastyr calling began to vibrate heavily, a sensation deep inside his body like the rumble of a Corvette. At no other time in the past few months had he ever wanted to embrace his mastyr calling more than he did in this moment.