Sunset Rising (Sunset Vampire Series, Book 5) Read online

  “Well, isn’t this is nice?” Chance asked. “We haven’t had much of an opportunity to get to know each other, Katrina. You were only briefly in town when you were last here.”

  “Mm. So true,” Kat said.

  By the time the waitress took our drink orders, I was already tempted to ask for the check.

  Chance neatly folded her hands on the place mat before her. “So, what’s the latest on your exploits, Katrina? We hardly know anything about you.”

  I looked at Chance, wondering what her game was all about. I felt confused, to say the least.

  Trey chuckled. “C’mon, Chance, you make her sound so mysterious.”

  She gave him a flat look. “Are you shushing me, Trey?”

  He swallowed hard as his complexion flushed. “What? No, I-”

  “You were saying, Katrina?” Chance asked, once again focusing her full attention on my mate.

  Kat sat tall in her chair; nearly imposing looking. She regarded Chance as if closely assessing her.

  That’s not a good sign.

  “Saying? I haven’t said anything, yet,” Kat said.

  “It seems like Caleb’s hardly said three words about you,” Chance said. “So, it got me to wondering, are you some spy or secret agent or something?”

  Kat arched one of her brows. “Something like that.”

  I nearly gaped at her and both Trey and Chance seemed momentarily taken aback.

  Kat forced a chuckle. “Seriously, though, I’m just a businesswoman who travels quite a bit.”

  “Corporate consulting,” I quickly added.

  Chance looked at me. “Oh, yes, you said as much that night at Carlucci’s. Strategic planning and restructuring or some other sort?”

  Kat spare a momentary glance at me with an arched brow. “Carlucci’s?”

  I looked back at her sheepishly. “Oh, yeah. It’s a restaurant over on Wooster Street. We should try it sometime.”

  “You mean that I should,” she said. “You’ve obviously sampled the menu already.”

  I stared at her, wondering about potential innuendo in her statement.

  Fortunately, her attention quickly returned to Chance, and I made a conscious effort to slowly exhale the breath I’d been holding.

  Why the hell am I feeling so guilty? Nothing happened that night. Chance and I only talked. Besides, Paige had waited outside for us.

  I absently rubbed my palms against my jeans.

  “Getting back to your earlier question, Chance,” Kat said. “I cover a span of projects and expertise, often multiple layers simultaneously.”

  Our drinks arrived, and for some reason, I relished the temporary lull in conversation.

  I looked over at Trey and he looked back at me with a forced smile.

  My throat felt so dry that I practically gulped at my tea.

  “You’re gone so much; it must be difficult maintaining a long-distance relationship with Caleb,” Chance said.

  I almost choked on my tea.

  Everyone stared at me.

  “Okay—just down my windpipe,” I struggled to say. “Fine now.”

  “I think you’ll find that my relationship with Caleb is rock-solid,” Kat said.

  “Mm-hm,” Chance said while staring back at her.

  Thankfully, the awkward moment was broken by Chance’s smartphone ringing.

  “Excuse me,” she said, reaching into her jacket pocket and getting up from the table. “What’s up?”

  I watched as her expression darkened.

  “What? I’m out—Trey and I are having dinner with Caleb and—” she said. “What, Dad? Caleb, he’s—just a minute.”

  She appeared unnerved when she looked back at us, and proceeded across the dining room toward the exit.

  “That was odd,” Trey said with a perplexed look.

  Kat frowned as she stared after Chance, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

  “Yeah, she told me once that she and her father have sort of a strained relationship,” I said.

  Trey shrugged. “I dunno. She hardly mentions him. But she and her mom seem really close.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, she said as much to me once, too.”

  Then, just as suddenly as she had walked away, Chance walked briskly back to the table.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she said. “Trey, can you take me back to my apartment?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  She appeared a little out of sorts, which seemed unusual for her.

  “Oh, it’s a family thing,” she said. “My dad’s just being an ass again. So much melodrama with him. I have to try and buy some train or plane tickets so that I can get home ASAP.”

  Trey got up from his chair and inclined his head toward me and Kat. “Well, it was—nice.”

  “Sorry you have to leave. I hope everything works out okay,” Kat said cordially to Chance.

  As Trey helped her with her coat, she froze and stared at Kat. “Thanks, but I’m sure you know how screwy families can get sometimes.”

  “More than you know,” Kat said. “Safe travels.”

  Chance gave me a quick hug. “I’ll message you.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  I sat back down as she and Trey walked across the dining room together.

  “Well, that was unpleasant,” I said. “You don’t like Chance much, do you?”

  I immediately realized that it was a stupid thing to ask.

  Kat patiently looked at me. “No, Caleb, I don’t like her, and I’m relatively sure the feeling’s mutual. But of course, she has quite the crush you, I see.”

  “What?” I asked. “She and Trey—”

  “Are friends, I suspect,” she said. “Little more.”

  “She’s barely turned twenty,” I said.

  “And you’re a whole what? Twenty-seven as of July?” she asked.

  Okay, that obviously wasn’t the proper tack to take with her.

  I rubbed my palm against my forehead as a weary feeling permeated my body.

  “Well, I’m only interested in being friends. I’ve already told her as much,” I said.

  “That’s good,” she said, staring at me. “So, I suppose that I’ll be reluctantly tolerant of your friendship.”

  Honestly, it had suddenly turned into a night from hell.

  “Now, with that over, let’s try to put it all behind us and recapture the moment,” she said, reaching out to grasp my hand.

  I offered my best reassuring smile despite the mild headache that had formed throughout my temples. In fact, I had nearly lost my appetite altogether.

  * * *

  By the time we returned to the house, I had a full stomach and my headache had largely subsided.

  In the end, Kat and I had enjoyed a nice meal and visit together. And while we hadn’t quite recaptured the emotional tone we’d experienced prior to Chance’s unexpected arrival, we had enjoyed each other’s company.

  We had barely walked through the front door before Alton presented me with a four-foot length of cylindrical leather-wrapped wood. It was a couple of inches in diameter and rather weighty.

  “Wow, I could really wallop someone with this,” I said.

  “That’s not for walloping, it’s for training,” he said.

  “Oh,” I said. “How so?”

  “Often, a blunt instrument is the most available item to use in defensive situations,” he said. “I’m going to issue techniques for you to begin practicing with.”

  “Well, you can forget about him practicing tonight,” Kat said. “I already have plans for him, thank you.”

  I grinned at the suggestive look in her eyes.

  “Very well,” he said. “We’ll go over things in the morning then.”

  “Later in the morning,” I suggested. “I’m thinking about sleeping in.”

  He arched one brow in a nearly imperious fashion. “Oh, really?”

  “Or not,” I said.

  �
�Earlier is better,” he said.

  Before I could say more, Kat took me by the hand and led—rather, half-dragged—me upstairs to our bedroom.

  Later that night, she lay in my arms as I dozed.

  The effect of my day’s stresses had finally abated and I was more than content to lay there next to her.

  I wished it could last forever.

  However, reality had its way of interrupting even the most blissful of moments and, before long, the day’s events resurfaced in my mind.

  “You don’t need to feel jealous of Chance, you know,” I said.

  “What? Hardly,” Kat said. “I feel no more threatened by her than a fly buzzing about my head. My challenge is not swatting it, that’s all.”

  No, she really didn’t like Chance at all, did she?

  “My mistake then,” I said.

  She scraped a sharp fingernail across my bare chest in soothing fashion.

  “If you want to remain friends with Chance, I’ll accept that,” she conceded, albeit in a glum tone of voice. “Though I can hardly imagine why you’d want to.”

  “Thanks for being flexible about the situation.”

  “Hm,” she said. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into it.”

  Then she made a purring sound. “Actually, your talented tongue just made a rather compelling argument, my love…without even saying a word.”

  Amidst the darkness, a smile formed on my face.

  Chapter 6

  Caleb

  The next morning, well before breakfast, Alton wasted no time instructing Roman and me in how to incorporate the baton-like cylinders into my workout regimen.

  “Where did you come up with these? You didn’t bring these all the way from London, did you?” I asked.

  “No, I constructed them for you,” Alton replied.

  They’re rather heavy,” I said. “My wrist feels strained already. Ever hear of carpal tunnel syndrome?”

  His unsympathetic expression spoke volumes. “It may take some time to acclimate yourself to them. Use them slowly and methodically at first, and then increase speed once your muscles have strengthened.”

  That seemed reasonable enough.

  “We’ll need to wake a little earlier in the morning, too,” Roman said. “We don’t want to shave any quality time from your training.”

  Speak for yourself, Roman.

  “Fine,” I said.

  It was a disparaging thought. I felt like I didn’t get enough sleep as it was. Between course readings and class assignments, as well as researching my dissertation subject, much less actually attending classes, I already filled most weekdays.

  Of course, my most recent lack of sleep was due to quality time spent with Kat the prior evening.

  Face it, she wore me out.

  Outside of Kat, my workouts and continued combat training—secret from any of my college friends and peers—took their toll on my early mornings, as well.

  I caught a glimpse of Kat out of the corner of my eye, closely scrutinizing me.

  I winked at her and the corners of her mouth upturned slightly.

  Was it all part of a plan to keep me so busy that I didn’t have time to get into further trouble?

  Yeah, right. Trouble somehow always finds me in the end.

  After exercising and combat training with Kat and Roman, I spent most of the remainder of the day in classes.

  After lunch, I received a text from Yale’s library informing me that one of the books I had reserved through interlibrary loan had arrived. It was one of the few I could find that had been written entirely by Dr. Simonson.

  I hurried to the library with Roman in tow.

  The book, Field Studies on Diseases of the Blood, was acquired through the Boston University School of Medicine and was published in 1908 by a defunct publisher, Firbst & Lachimann, Ltd.

  As books went, it was a veritable tome, filled with arcane medical jargon and a litany of case studies. Upon cursory inspection, Dr. Simonson certainly seemed competent.

  As if I’d have known otherwise.

  I was no medical expert, but I tried to look on the bright side.

  Well, at least it’s in English.

  I located a nearby comfortable chair and thumbed through the book. Within an hour, I determined it was likely going to take days just to make heads or tails out of anything in it.

  “Where am I gonna find time for this?” I asked.

  Following one of my mid-afternoon classes, I considered heading back to the house. However, I felt rather pensive and thought that I’d feel too tempted by distractions.

  Instead, I went to the student union to find a comfortable spot for some more reading from Simonson’s book.

  Fortunately, one of the lounge rooms was relatively deserted, so I camped out on an oversized recliner in the corner. Roman secured a small study table in an inconspicuous area across the room from me.

  With a heavy sigh, I made my debut excursion into blood disorders case studies. Aside from the frequent use of my iPad to look up medical terminology, it was occasionally quite fascinating material. Written when the field was still in its infancy, Dr. Simonson’s book seemed to have been on the leading edge of it.

  I lost track of time, and before I knew it, evening had arrived.

  At approximately six o’clock, I received a text message from Roman: Late night?

  I sent: Overtime averse? Long day?

  I looked across the room at him but he was slouched down in his chair ignoring me.

  He responded: Oh, funny man now? More bruises tomorrow morning for you. ;-)

  I chuckled and texted: I’ll wrap it up.

  I’d had more than my fair share of sore muscles and bruises from him since combat training began.

  “Pain encourages proficiency,” he had said to me on more than one occasion.

  All teasing aside, I admired that the guy really knew his stuff and he was a good mentor. Alton and Kat had chosen well.

  Then I received another text from him.

  Belay that. Paige is en route.

  I sent: Thx.

  Another twenty minutes later, he texted: Clocking out. See you tomorrow.

  I looked across the room to see him gathering up his notebook computer into a backpack and he nonchalantly left the room.

  Seconds later, Paige appeared in the entryway with her arms crossed before her. Ethan stood behind her with a grin on his face.

  She rolled her eyes at me as they walked over to where I sat.

  “Pack it up, nerdo,” she said, nudging at my shoe with the tip of hers. “Ethan’s leaving tonight and we’re not spending his remaining hours hanging out in a study hall.”

  I gestured around the nearly empty room. “It’s a lounge.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s-a-lame.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Home?”

  “Nope,” she said. “Club.”

  “Kat’s gonna love that,” I said.

  “Red’s not here to care,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, she and Alton left after sundown to check on some leads,” she said.

  I wondered why Kat hadn’t mentioned that to me. Hell, she had never even bothered to send me a text message.

  “Oh, don’t look all forlorn,” she said. “She’ll be back later tonight after she drops Alton off at the airport.”

  I’d nearly forgotten that he was returning to London already. For some reason, things felt like they were happening so fast around me since last Friday night.

  She repeatedly snapped her fingers. “Hey, back to reality, kiddo. My last wager was ‘club’ as I recall.”

  “Restaurant,” I countered.

  “Bar,” she said.

  “Witches Brew?” I asked.

  “Hm. Catchy name. Close by?”

  “Walking distance,” I said.

  She gave me a suspicious look. “Okay. I’m sort of surprised I haven’t been there already. I thought I’d already scoped out all the dives with p
otential.”

  “Well, we won’t know for sure until we go there,” Ethan said.

  “Follow me,” I said.

  I quickly packed away my book and iPad and led the way outside and across campus.

  “You’re gonna love this place, Ethan,” I said, slipping one strap of my backpack over my shoulder.

  “I’m intrigued,” he said.

  He draped his arm across Paige’s shoulders as we briskly walked the couple of blocks over to Grove Street, not far from campus.

  We rounded a corner and nearly ran into it.

  Paige scanned the front of the building and groaned. “No fair! Aw, crap.”

  Ethan laughed.

  Witches Brew was a popular coffee and tea cafe that served some of the freshest bagels and rolls in the city.

  I held the glass doors open for them.

  Paige glared at me as she entered.

  I pointed over to the counter. “I distinctly recall you saying ‘bar.’ This has the best coffee and bagel bar in town.”

  “You’re such a lame-butt,” she said, plopping onto the seat of a nearby booth. “Just you wait. I’ll have my revenge.”

  “Promises, promises,” I said.

  “Nice place,” Ethan said.

  “Oh, don’t encourage him,” she said, propping her chin on one upturned palm with a dejected expression.

  “Drinks are on me,” I said.

  “Yep,” she said. “Just as quickly as I can pour one over your head.”

  I purchased French vanilla cappuccinos for Paige and Ethan and Earl Grey tea and a chicken salad sandwich for me.

  “That’s all you’re eating?” Paige asked.

  “I’m not that hungry.”

  She stared at me. “You’re normally a stomach with legs.”

  I ignored her.

  “Sorry you have to leave tonight, Ethan,” I said. “You’ll be missed.”

  Paige leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around her. “Ditto,” she said.

  “Paige is going to need a fresh supply of batteries after you leave,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

  Paige stabbed the end of her forefinger in my face. “I’m gonna beat your ass.”