All Just Glass - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [51]
She approached the door and knocked, still lost in her own morbid thoughts. She heard Jerome call out, “It’s unlocked.”
She pushed open the door, and only at that moment did she realize that she had made a grave miscalculation.
Jerome was not alone. Actually, he was more than not alone; he was perched on a stool at a quaint breakfast bar, apparently deep in conversation with an irate-looking vampire Adia recognized as either Nikolas or Kristopher.
Adia had exactly enough time to recognize the twin and note the presence of two other vampires—a man and a woman, curled together on the sofa with an apparently willing victim—before one of the doors in the far wall opened and another familiar figure emerged.
Heather took one look at Adia and began to shriek. The shrill wail was like a siren and was more than enough to startle the feeding vampires so they turned from their prey to Adia.
Four to one, Adia calculated as she took a step backward. There was no space to maneuver in the apartment, she didn’t have the element of surprise and—
Five to one, she thought, correcting herself, as someone caught her at the scruff of her neck, propelling her forward into the room. She managed to wrench herself from the newcomer’s grip, though she fell awkwardly, hurting her wrist.
Heather’s screams had brought her master. It was Kaleo who had blindsided Adia.
“You,” Kaleo snarled as the twin started to chuckle in a humorless way.
“Well, Jerome, it’s been a ball,” Nikolas—Adia was almost certain it was Nikolas—said without taking his eyes from her. “But you look like you’re busy here. Have fun.”
When Nikolas met her gaze, Adia expected to see triumph, or amusement, or at least relief. He had to know she was hunting him, and now he had a chance to get rid of her without ever dirtying his hands. So why did he just look thoughtful?
No point in puzzling it out now. She had to survive first.
One down, Adia thought as Nikolas disappeared. Death estimated in … maybe two minutes?
She started to push herself up, only to get kicked in the shoulder by Kaleo. Though not hard enough to break anything, it was hardly a love tap. Pain radiated down her arm.
“Kaleo, back off,” Jerome said. “She’s my guest.”
“Guest. Sure,” Kaleo replied. Heather had ducked behind him, and he had one protective hand on her shoulder.
“She is my guest,” Jerome repeated, “and she is in my home. That makes her mine to do with as I will, and that doesn’t involve you. Now, perhaps you and Heather should go … get a coffee, or something.”
And then there were three.
Again Adia started to push herself to her feet, but before she could get far, Jerome knelt beside her. His gaze held an even mixture of solicitous courtesy and warning. She stopped moving.
“Anyone else leaving, or should we just do this now?” she asked, stalling. Her right arm was still tingling; she didn’t trust it not to seize up if she went for a knife. She eased to the side, trying to make it look like a painful movement—and it did hurt as she put more weight on her right arm to free up her left.
Jerome shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. The vampires on the couch exchanged glances, and then carried their victim into one of the bedrooms and shut the door.
“I didn’t invite you here for a fight,” Jerome said.
“Of course not,” she grumbled. “You invited me for a romantic dinner, right?”
“Temper, temper, Vida,” he said, chastising her. “I think we need to have a conversation, that’s all. Now, I’m going to step back and let you stand up. I do not want to fight, but neither will I let you out that door before I have said my piece.”
He walked toward the kitchenette, putting a peninsula counter between them. Adia stood quickly, drawing a knife and taking in details of the apartment around her as a matter of course without ever turning her attention from Jerome.
It was easy to tell that he was from Kendra’s line. His medium of choice was obviously photography; his work was on the apartment walls, and several photographs had been scattered on the coffee table Adia was standing