A Vampire's Vindication Page 2

  Her hands went back to tugging at her covers. “I left a letter in my desk. You know, the secret compartment. Remember the game we used to play so you’d know how to open it?”

  Keelie nodded. The hidden door could only be released if the desk drawers were opened and closed in the right sequence.

  “Good. Find the letter. Read it. Take any questions to Griff. He’ll know the answers. He’s strong.”

  “Mom, you’re scaring me.”

  On so many levels. She knew a goodbye when she heard one, but was her mother really asking her to trust the vampire she’d spent the last twenty-five years reviling? Was this the disease speaking? Somehow Keelie didn’t think so.

  She captured her mother’s hands, hoping to calm her. They were cold, too cold. Lydia stared up toward the ceiling, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

  “Kenneth, I knew you’d come.”

  The words floated on a whispered breath—and then her mother breathed no more.

  The cry of anguish had Griff running for the bedroom. He’d sensed the nearness of Lydia’s death, but doubted Keelie had. She’d been too intent on understanding her mother’s confused words to realize that Lydia had been slipping away.

  When he reached the bedroom door, he found Keelie huddled on the floor, her chest heaving with huge, wracking sobs. Dorothy would’ve been better suited to comfort the young chancellor, but his cousin had yet to return. Griff did the only thing he could think of. Grabbing a quilt, he wrapped it around Keelie and then muscled her up off the floor.

  He hated—HATED—dealing with a woman’s tears, but it would take a lot bigger bastard than he was to drop Keelie in the other room and bolt out the front door. Cursing himself for a fool, he settled them both on the sofa and wrapped his arms around her as she soaked the front of his shirt with her grief.

  After a few seconds, he began rubbing her back with one hand, mumbling a bunch of nonsense, hoping the tone of his voice would soothe her even if his words didn’t. When the torrent slowed to a stop, he loosened his hold on Keelie, but she made no effort to move away.

  “Keelie?”

  She’d fallen asleep.

  “I’ll be damned.” He studied the lump of female passed out in his lap. “Now what do I do?”

  If he were careful, he might be able to lift Keelie off his lap. At least then he’d be able to track down Dorothy and contact the authorities to report the death. But Lydia wasn’t going anywhere, and Keelie obviously needed a few minutes of oblivion to deal with the situation. Why else would she let down her guard around her sworn enemy long enough to fall asleep? He cradled her closer and let her doze.

  A short time later Keelie finally lifted her head, her face still blotchy from crying. Her eyes blinked in surprise, as if confused about how she came to be on his lap. He relaxed his arms, allowing her to decide what to do next, hoping she’d make up her mind quickly before he did something stupid. Like kiss her.

  Too late.

  Griff took it slow, brushing his lips across hers, offering comfort, tasting her tears, and wishing the circumstances were different. He was hardly an innocent when it came to the female of the species, but this was different. Through the growing fog of passion, he fought to put a label on what he was feeling. No luck. The best he could come up with was that somehow she just fit: in his arms, on his lap, maybe in his life.

  No, don’t go there. Under the circumstances, it was understandable that emotions would run hot. That was no excuse for letting his imagination rampage out of control. He was just feeling overprotective. After all, Keelie’s late father had been Griff’s best friend. Despite his differences with Lydia over the past twenty-plus years, he’d kept an eye on his boyhood friend’s daughter, but always from a distance. Not like this, crushing her against his chest, his tongue down her throat.

  But damned if he could find the strength to stop, to call a halt to this headlong rush of heat. He brushed his thumb across the soft skin of Keelie’s cheek. Reluctantly, he lifted her off his lap, trying to ignore the brief flash of hurt in her caramel-colored eyes.

  He was never at a loss for words but found himself struggling to string together even a simple explanation as to why they needed to stop. “Keelie, we can’t…we shouldn’t.”

  Then a noise outside gave him that final push of common sense. “Dorothy’s back.”

  With more regret than he could believe was possible, he walked away.

  What had she been thinking? Her mother dies and what does she do? Jump the vampire who killed her father? Keelie’s face burned in shame. She watched as Griff Tyler stopped Dorothy to break the news. Two grocery bags hit the ground as the housekeeper reeled in shock. Her grief-stricken eyes looked toward the house as she listened to whatever Griff was telling her.

  Finally, Dorothy slowly walked away from the vampire, heading for the porch. Griff remained in the yard, making a call. Keelie opened the door and enfolded Dorothy in her arms as they both dissolved into tears. When the storm had spent most of its fury, Dorothy drew a shaky breath.

  “Griff said he’d make the necessary calls. I need to go see to your mom.”

  Now wasn’t the time to ask Dorothy about Lydia’s assertions that she’d overheard her old friend talking to Griff Tyler. That would come later. For now, they had a funeral to plan.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Chapter 4

  “Your mother will be missed.”

  “Thank you.”

  Keelie managed a small smile as she accepted yet another in a long line of condolences. Would the line ever end? She appreciated everyone honoring her mother’s memory, but it wasn’t as if Keelie knew many of them well.

  Her emotions were stretched to the breaking point. It wouldn’t take much to shatter her composure completely. Knowing that Griffon Tyler was lurking along the back edge of the crowd didn’t help. He’d kept his distance, but she could swear she sensed every move he made.

  She’d tried several times to catch him watching her. But each time her eyes had strayed in his direction, he’d been engaged in conversation with one of the other high-ranking pureblood vampires on the guest list. Griff was definitely working the crowd.

  The question was why? What was he after?

  None of that would matter if he would conveniently disappear from her life as quickly as he had appeared. Once she settled her mother’s estate, Keelie would return to her job where the only contact she had with Griff was through his attorneys. But those same instincts that made her so good at tracking down threats to the environment were screaming that Griff was up to something. He might walk back out of her life, but it would be on his terms, not hers.

  Her fingers strayed to her lips, as she relived that moment of weakness when she’d let him kiss her. That had been bad enough, worse was the knowledge she’d kissed him back and was still thinking about it three days later.

  And of course, this time when she glanced in his direction, he was looking straight at her. Judging by his slight smile, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. The egotistical jerk. She wondered again what was contained in the thick envelope she’d found in her mother’s desk and what it had to do with Griffon Tyler and the events that had led to her father’s death.

  Since she couldn’t be sure how much Griff had heard of her last conversation with her mother, she’d been reluctant to leave the letter in the desk. As soon as she’d had time, she’d removed it and now carried it with her for safety’s sake. Eventually she’d find the courage to open it, but not today and maybe not tomorrow.

  The last of her mother’s associates paid their respects and then moved on. She thanked them for coming, but all she really felt was relief that she was done playing hostess. Or was she? A late arrival stood in the doorway, looking around the room as if he owned the place. She didn’t recognize him, but there was no mistaking the vampire’s arrogance and wealth.

  He surveyed the room, his lip curled just enough to express his disapproval when he spotted Griff. Who was
he? She rose to her feet. The tension between the two vampires spread across the room, making the other guests stir restlessly. Several made a discreet exit.

  What was going on? Keelie started across the room, noting the instant that Griff realized she was on the move. He cut through the crowd, heading in her direction. Figuring better the devil she knew, she allowed him to intercept her. He offered Keelie his arm, leaving her no option to refuse without insulting him. She managed to maintain a calm demeanor, but just barely.

  “So who is he and why is he here?”

  Griff set a roundabout course through the crowd that would eventually take them by the newcomer. He stopped at the buffet table to pick up two drinks; blood for him, wine for her.

  “My cousin, Becan Tyler,” he finally answered when they were again on the move. “As to why, you’d have to ask him that. He avoids me.”

  She smiled at Griff over the rim of her wineglass. “One of those nasty little vampire family feuds we hear so much about?”

  Griff’s eyes turned icy. “A family disgrace is more like it. Becan is hoping you now have proof that would destroy my position in the family. If that happens, he inherits control of the clan’s business holdings.”

  “And I’m supposed to think that’s a bad thing?”

  Griff’s fangs flashed. “Damn straight it is. Trust me on that.”

  “I have no reason to trust you on anything, Mr. Tyler.”

  Griff’s eyes hardened to the color of jade. “Fine, Keelie. I get that. True, I might be a coldhearted bastard, but Becan makes me look all warm and fuzzy. If you don’t believe me, talk to the few humans who’ve managed to escape from his estate and lived to tell about it.”

  Despite her mother’s strange behavior, Keelie hadn’t forgotten Griff’s ties to her father’s death. She might have kissed the vampire in a moment of weakness, but the last thing she wanted was to be entangled in his clan’s politics. She removed her arm from his and put some distance between them.

  “Thank you for the information. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to greet my guest.”

  Chapter 5

  Griff should just let her go. She didn’t need him. After all, Keelie Bronson was all grown up, a chancellor in her prime. If Becan were the type to attack directly, she might even stand a fighting chance against him. Unfortunately his cousin had perfected the skill of the sneak attack. If Keelie somehow thwarted Becan’s efforts to oust Griffon as clan leader, the bastard would kill her without hesitation, and her death wouldn’t come easily.

  Griff watched her approach his cousin, telling himself he was merely concerned for her safety, the same as anyone who might be seen as a threat to Becan’s plans. That much was true, but Griff tried never to lie to himself. He’d spent the entire evening fighting the need to watch over her, to hover nearby, to find someway to drive away the shadows in those caramel-colored eyes. Maybe even kiss her again if the opportunity arose.

  It would be better for all concerned if he kept his distance from both Keelie and Becan. His extended family hardly needed a fresh batch of gossip about the Tylers and the Bronsons circulating among the other vampire clans.

  He’d already paid his respects by being there, which meant he could leave in good conscience. He’d wanted to talk with Dorothy about the letter Lydia had left behind but couldn’t do that now. The last thing he wanted to do was draw Becan’s attention to her presence. But come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Dorothy since Becan had appeared. Good thinking on her part.

  Elitist bastard that he was, Becan had made Dorothy’s life a living hell when they were younger because of her mixed blood. As soon as she was old enough, she’d deserted the clan’s stronghold to make a life for herself among the humans and other chancellors.

  It was after the death of Keelie’s father that Griff had encouraged Dorothy to apply for the housekeeper’s position working for Kenneth’s widow. The arrangement had worked out for both of them. She’d needed the job, and he’d needed her to keep an eye on things for him.

  Unfortunately distance wasn’t working for him now. He couldn’t hear what Becan was saying, but Keelie’s body language was all too clear as she emphatically shook her head and took a step back. Damn it, didn’t the woman know never to show a sign of weakness to a predator?

  Griff set his glass aside to free up his hands. The crowd scattered in front of him, showing a well-developed sense of self-preservation. No one in their right mind got in the way of a vampire on the hunt.

  He openly displayed his fangs as he approached his cousin. Becan stopped talking as Griff headed straight for them. He smiled, but it wasn’t friendly, especially with his own impressive set of canines fully extended.

  Keelie looked back over her shoulder to see what had brought on the vampire’s aggressive reaction.

  “Griff, did you want something?” she asked.

  Something in her voice caught his attention. It wasn’t fear, at least not exactly. Relief, maybe. Either way, her eyes were pleading with him not to make a scene. For her sake he’d try.

  “Keelie, I see you’ve had the questionable pleasure of meeting my younger cousin, Becan.”

  He met the challenge in the other vampire’s eyes with a small smile. Becan hated being reminded of the three-day difference in their ages that had given Griff the decided advantage in the power structure within their clan.

  Becan shrugged a shoulder. “I thought someone from our clan should offer their condolences to Miss Bronson, preferably someone who wasn’t involved in the death of her father. Tell me, Griff. Any truth to the rumors that you were also present when poor Keelie’s mother died?”

  As he spoke, Becan’s hand snaked out to brush against Keelie’s cheek. She flinched, clearly hating the feel of his touch. She backed away, stopping only when she bumped into Griff.

  Her eyes blazing, she glared at Becan, the tips of her own fangs showing. “You need to leave. Now.”

  The other vampire read her message loud and clear. Griff was welcome. Becan was not. This time his hand snapped out as if to slap her. She deflected the blow before Griff could do it for her. That didn’t matter. Becan would pay for trying to harm Keelie.

  Griff’s rage burned hot. Between one heartbeat and the next, he slammed Becan against the wall, choking the bastard. How dare Becan touch her? Keelie didn’t belong to him and never would. She was Griff’s alone to claim. To protect. Griff’s fangs ached to rip into Becan’s throat and drain him dry.

  Before he could act on the thought, Keelie grabbed his wrists, using her considerable strength to loosen his hold and allow Becan to suck in enough air to live. What a damn shame. A lot of Griff’s problems would be solved if Becan breathed his last.

  “Griff, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but stop this now.”

  She glared at him until he released his cousin. Becan rubbed his throat and snarled. “You will both pay for this.”

  Keelie pegged Becan with a hard look. “Either walk out now or I’ll toss you out. Right now, I don’t really care which it is.”

  Becan jerked his head toward Griff. “If I go, he goes.”

  “That’s not your decision to make.” Keelie took a step closer to the irate vampire. “You weren’t invited, he was.”

  Not really, but Griff wasn’t about to argue the point, not when it meant he could stay. His cousin moved as if to go on the attack, but then clearly thought better of facing off against both a pissed-off chancellor and an enraged vampire. That showed more sense than Griff would have credited his cousin with having.

  Finally, Becan’s resolve broke. He quickly backed out of the door and disappeared into the night.

  Becan’s departure left Griff with a shitload of aggression and no handy target for it. He stepped outside, drawing a slow breath to test the night air to make sure Becan was really gone. Keelie joined him. Not good. His control was already shaky. With vampires, aggression was aggression, whether it was directed toward an enemy or a potential lover.

&
nbsp; He looked around. No enemies in sight.

  That left only one possible target: Keelie. The last thing he should be thinking about was taking her up against the brick exterior of the reception hall. At her mother’s memorial service. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Stupid question. His instincts were thinking how the soft curves of her body would cushion the powerful sex drive of a vampire lover whose temper was running hot. That her mouth, right now set in a grim line, was perfect for long, wet kisses and so many other things.

  “You need to go back inside. Now.” Before it was too late.

  She got right up in his face. “One thing you haven’t seemed to figure out, Griffon Tyler, is that I don’t respond well to orders. Care to tell me what that was all about?”

  Clan business was supposed to be kept secret, but she should know what she was mixed up in. “Becan wants to take over the clan and is looking for any ammunition he can find.”

  “And you just had to go toe-to-toe in front of my guests?”

  “He started it.”

  Okay, that was real mature. At least his childish remark had softened Keelie’s mouth, as if she were fighting the urge to grin. It also made her look ever so kissable.

  “I apologize for dragging you into our family problems, Keelie. I won’t apologize for going on the attack when he tried to hit you. Next time, I’ll kill him.”

  She looked up at the moon overhead, as if praying for patience. Finally, she looked up at him. “Griff, I handle my own battles. I don’t need you to fight them for me. Now everyone inside thinks you were fighting over me like two dogs with one bone.”

  He liked that she wasn’t afraid to challenge him when she wanted to make a point. Unfortunately, it also had the effect of ramping up his predatory nature even more, taking it in a whole different direction.

  Damn, his fangs burned to taste her life’s blood, knowing it would pack a fiery kick. But not here, not in a parking lot. If he ever bedded Keelie—no, make that when he bedded her, it would be someplace private where he could savor each moment, making sure she took as much pleasure from their joining as he did. He let some of what he was feeling show, tracing the graceful curve of her neck with his fingers.