Dangerous Temptation (Dark Dream 1)

“Dang,” he muttered, rubbing his chin.

It made my heart ache to see him do that because it was a gesture our father had when he was alive, rubbing at the scruff on his chin as he thought something over. Brando hadn’t been old enough to study him, so it was just a natural gesture, somehow embedded in the DNA Dad had passed on to him.

I leaned forward to tuck a wayward piece of hair back from his forehead because I couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. To make sure he was real and alive.

“Let me see your teeth,” he decided finally, already crawling across the seat parallel to Tiernan to get closer to him.

He waited, perched on his knees as the car drove up the hill to the dark house.

Tiernan considered him for a moment, his expression implacable. I worried he would say something mean, maybe call Brando silly for being afraid of something like vampires.

But he didn’t.

Instead, slowly, powerful jaw creaking, he opened his mouth to expose the strong, white rows of teeth. Brando bent close, too close to be polite. If he could have, he would have put his head right between those teeth like some kind of reckless lion tamer.

My heart panged as fear plucked at me. He was too trusting, too innocent.

And I knew I was really no better.

We were entering a world of riches and finery, and I knew from Dad that more monsters lurked beneath the diamond watches and silks than could be imagined.

I had no doubt Tiernan was one of them.

But Brando was already sinking deep into fascination with the man, his eyes sparkling as he used the pad of his thumb to test the point of Tiernan’s incisor. He pulled it away with a little hiss, shaking it out as he glared at him.

“They’re sharp!” he said.

The older man shrugged, righting his head and closing his mouth. “How else do you expect me to suck your blood?”

Brando’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide and blue as Spode china saucers.

Tiernan held his gaze, face totally somber.

I didn’t know what to think of the exchange until slowly, a tiny grin curled the scarred side of Tiernan’s face.

Brando watched it spread, the fear draining from his expression to be replaced by a mirrored grin, high on the left side like Tiernan’s.

Suddenly, Tiernan lunged forward, snapping his teeth.

Brando fell back onto the seat in his haste to get away, then burst into raucous giggles, clutching his belly as he laughed so hard he cried.

Something moved through me, thick enough to slow my blood and clog my pores. Something that should have been poisonous because it had everything to do with the man who’d essentially stolen us away, but it wasn’t.

It was bright and beautiful and it made me want to cry for the first time that day with something other than rage and grief.

Watching Brando laugh after the last few days of misery was a gift.

And I had to reconcile with myself the fact that Tiernan had been the one to give it to me.

When I looked over at him, he was watching me with those shrewd eyes that seemed to see right through me. I told myself to look away, but there was a chain linked between us, anchored somewhere behind my eyes that refused to budge. All I could do was stare into those inexpressive eyes and wonder at the mysteries behind them.

Wonder at why a man like him would ever willingly take on two minors.

The moment was broken as Ezra opened the door and bent his head in to offer me his hand. I took his big, rough palm and let him help me from the car, grateful to get out of the enclosed space that smelled of Tiernan’s expensive smoke and pine cologne.

“Oh my God,” I breathed as I looked up from the white gravel driveway to the long, wide house before me.

The property itself extended to the left all the way down to the water, a cliff falling away before the edge of the shore below. I could hear the distant roar of waves, taste the brine on the air and see the weathered effect of its presence on the old, eccentric house.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a gothic revival,” I admitted as Tiernan joined me and Brando took my hand. “More like a modern, generic penthouse in the city. It doesn’t look very energy efficient…have you considered solar panels?”

“It was my grandparents’,” he said, as if that explained it. “Don’t touch anything.”

Then, without waiting to lead us into our new home, he took off on gravel-crunching strides around the side of the house near the water, already dialing someone on his cell.

I rolled my eyes at his retreating form. As if it was reasonable to suggest a seven-year-old not touch anything in the house he was supposed to call his new home.