Angel tried not to balk at the cost of their meal.
What money he had he always spent conservatively. Haunted mansions came cheap, but apparently not evenings out with Cordelia Chase. That was going to take some getting used to, though admittedly this was a special occasion.
Financial matters vanished from his thoughts as he turned toward her. Cordelia was standing by the panoramic window gazing out at the lights of the marina. Without a word from him she seemed to sense him standing there, swiveling to her right. Her eyes lit up as she caught him staring, a happy smile spreading across her face.
Maybe tonight he’d done the right thing by taking her out. There was so much going on in her life right now that most people would be incapable of finding even a shred of happiness. Seeing that smile brought a lump to his throat. He swallowed it down.
He dropped the waiter’s sizable tip on the table, barely aware of it, and moved to join her.
Radiant in her red dress, Cordelia stood framed by the window with the lights of the marina sparkling behind her, their multi-colored hues reflecting on ocean’s rippling waves. He wanted to paint that memory, sketch the lines of her face, each tempting curve, stroke the brush across the canvas to capture the warmth of her lips and the contours of light and shadow on golden skin.
Just the soft sound of his name on her lips and he had to touch her.
After the slightest caress of her cheek he tangled a fingertip in one curling strand of hair slowly following it down to where it teased the curve of her shoulder. He heard a tiny sigh escape Cordelia as the trailing fingertip continued its path down her bare arm, and watched her eyes darken with awakening desire.
“We should go,” the rueful words came to him despite his wish that they could stay longer in that idyllic spot. Leaving meant that it was time to get to work.
“There’s still time,” she said, slipping her hand into his. “We can go for a walk on the beach.”
Nothing could have seemed simpler. He should have known by now that his ability to resist indulging Cordelia her every whim was nil.
Technically, the clock was already ticking. According to plan they should go back to the car to unload their gear from the trunk. One reason Angel agreed to Cordelia’s dinner plans at the marina was that this was one of the least likely places to be targeted when compared to the town’s other points of entry.
Although Angel would prefer to be in the thick of any fight, keeping Cordelia out of harm’s way was still his ultimate priority.
The whole evening had flown by. Everything went perfectly despite their late arrival at the restaurant. Thanks to Arturo’s personal chef, the steak he selected from the menu was prepared in a tender cut, cooked au jus, only to the point that it was still red, but no longer raw.
He thought Cordy might balk at the sight of it, but she seemed more concerned if he liked how it tasted. It was the experience he enjoyed more than the meal itself.
Their white-gloved waiter had assistants who stood by to offer support as he served up their meal from a silver cart on fine china, creating and presenting each dish with a decorative flair. Angel had declined the services of the sommelier who rattled off a list of very fine Italian vintages from rote.
Arturo had stopped by their table once to ensure everything met their expectations. He offered Angel only one piece of advice before leaving them. “Relax. Enjoy tonight, my friends.”
After that, Angel had to admit that he let go the nagging concern that Nicolau would show up with a band of fresh minions to capture Cordelia. Even though he had given him his word, declaring a temporary truce, Angel did not trust him not to grab the advantage if given the chance.
They had certainly given him an opening tonight. One moment Angel was planning an exit strategy in the event of a surprise attack, and the next it simply felt unnecessary. All of his attention focused on Cordelia. She drew him into conversation, challenging him to keep up with her habit of jumping from one topic to the next. Often confusing, but never dull, she made him laugh like no one else could.
Now that dinner was over he couldn’t believe he had let down his guard that way. Or let the time go by the way it did. They had stayed so long the rest of the restaurant was empty, including the adjacent Oyster Bar, which normally stayed open until the wee hours of the morning, yet was strangely empty of customers.
Only Arturo remained in the dining room, patiently waiting for them to make their way to the exit. Angel heard the other workers in the kitchen, a few voices passing on instructions to leave certain cleaning activities for the morning. Their manager wanted them to head home now.
That was a fortunate coincidence. If by some off chance the marina turned out to be tonight’s hot spot of demon activity it would be better if there were fewer innocent bystanders around. Saving them would not be his priority.
The twinge of guilt he felt for thinking he would deliberately allow someone to die if it meant saving Cordelia—it did not last very long.
Four times Drusilla turned away and went back to the basement steps where Miss Edith sat prim and proper in her red velvet gown.
Daddy would not want her to play with Karla. He ordered her to leave Karla alone.
Good girls listened and did what they were told.
. . . Miss Edith was silent on the matter.
Drusilla rose gracefully to her feet waltzing slowly across the floor to see where fate would lead her. She twirled to a stop in front of Karla Brewer who huddled against the wall with her head in her hands.
Crouching low, Drusilla waited and waited until the girl lifted her terrified gaze, holding it with her own. “My eyes are the darkness surrounding you,” Drusilla stared into the well of Karla Brewer’s stark blue gaze encouraging her to stare back, making a connection. “Look deep.”
The girl’s flesh felt hot to the touch, feverish, her cheeks a blotchy red, as if burning up from the inside. Clasping her head to keep her steady, Dru opened up the well of her thoughts to let Karla’s in.
Somewhere deep inside the girl had her secrets, the ways of things that they needed to know. The dark things that were done to her. Things that might protect Cordelia, to save her from the monster waiting at the mouth of hell.
Cordy was pretty on the inside. Like Miss Edith. Sometimes naughty, but bright and beautiful. Not like Miss Karla, tainted, full of dark whispers.
“Come to me. Come to me. I see you crouching in the dark. No more hiding.”
A faint sensation skimmed across her mind, a hesitant touch. Just enough to initiate the binding ties of a thrall. “That’s it. You are so far, far away. Closer. Be in me.”
A swift rush of thoughts surged forward. Light, and sound, and fury all at once with a wave of pure evil surfing behind it.
Karla, so silent for so long, started screaming, her mind filling up with dark imagery, pain and fear.
Jerking away, Drusilla scrambled back across the cement floor, pushing with her hands and feet to get away. The girl pulled on her chains, rattling them loudly as she called out the name of Amolon again and again.
Afraid of what she had seen, Drusilla ran to the stairs. She scooped Miss Edith off the third step and clasped her close to her breast. Pausing for a moment, Drusilla stared back at the girl, dark eyes wide with fear as she watched blood dripping down her wrists as she strained against her bonds.
The fresh scent made her mouth water, a haze filling her field of vision. Drusilla’s eyes shuttered closed as her tongue ran across her lips. It was then, in the dark, that she saw it staring, its eyes trained upon her.
On a scream her eyes flashed open. Sparing no further glances toward the terrorized girl chained against the basement wall, Dru dashed up the stairs slamming the door behind her so that it rattled on its hinges.