Home > Night's Touch (Children of The Night #2)(23)

Night's Touch (Children of The Night #2)(23)
Author: Amanda Ashley

Dinner arrived and they spoke of trivial things. Later, after Anton paid the check, they left the restaurant.

“Where to now?” he asked. “Movies? A drive? A walk? Bowling?”

Cara glanced over her shoulder. Di Giorgio nodded at her from a discreet distance away.

“Or we could go dancing at The Nocturne,” Anton suggested.

Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. Vince might be at The Nocturne.

“Well?” he asked, “what will it be?”

“Dancing sounds good,” she said, especially if she found a way to dance with Vince.

She could scarcely contain her excitement as they made their way down the stairs to the club’s entrance.

The dark, sensual beat of the music seemed to close around Cara as she followed Anton to a vacant table in the back. A man smiled at her, his hooded eyes dark with lust. She recoiled when she saw his fangs and then laughed self-consciously as she reminded herself that no matter how real they looked, they were fake.

She didn’t know what it was that she found so appealing about this place. The people frightened her, the music made her think of dark, intimate acts.

She was disappointed when she didn’t see Vince in the crowd.

Anton asked her to dance and even though she didn’t want to be in his arms, she could hardly refuse, since she had been so enthusiastic about coming here.

The first song ended and the second one began. Anton was relating a story about something that had happened at the bookstore when one of the couples dancing nearby caught Cara’s attention. Could it be? It was!

“What’s wrong?” Anton asked.

“My parents are here!”

“What? Where?”

“Over there.”

Roshan twirled her mother around just then and caught Cara staring.

“Well, hello,” Brenna said, smiling. “What a nice surprise.”

“I didn’t know you two came here,” Cara said.

“You seemed to like it, so we thought we’d give it a try,” her father said. “We were just going to get a drink. Would you care to join us?”

Cara glanced at Anton. He was staring at her father through narrowed eyes, almost as if he hated him, yet that was ridiculous. The two had only met once before.

“Anton?”

With a shrug, he said, “It’s up to you.”

“Sure, we’d love to join you,” Cara said, wondering at Anton’s strange behavior.

Moments later, the four of them were seated at a large booth in the back.

“What are you drinking, Mom?” Cara asked when their drinks arrived. At home, her parents never indulged in anything stronger than a glass of red wine.

“It’s a club specialty,” her mother replied.

“It looks like a Bloody Mary,” Anton remarked.

“It’s very similar,” her mother said.

They talked of the weather and the upcoming election. Roshan ordered another round of drinks, though both Brenna and Cara declined.

Her parents danced together again. Cara watched them, thinking how well they looked together. They moved effortlessly, almost as if they were floating. Her father, clad in his usual black attire, looked as though he belonged there. Without even trying, he looked more like a vampire than any of the wanna-be vampires with their long black cloaks and fake fangs. Her mother, clad in a flowing yellow and orange striped skirt and white blouse, looked like she should be dancing in a sunlit field of wildflowers.

At midnight, Cara asked Anton to take her home.

“So early? You’re not going to turn into a pumpkin on me, are you?”

“No,” Cara said, grinning. “I’m just tired.”

“Very well.” Rising, he bid a cool good night to her parents.

“We’ll be along soon, Princess,” Roshan said, giving his daughter a hug.

“All right. Night, Dad. Mom.”

Cara stared into the darkness as Anton drove her home. She had so hoped to see Vince at the club. Of course, even if he had been there, she couldn’t have spent any time with him, not when she was on a date with another man, but she was disappointed just the same.

Anton pulled up in front of the driveway and Di Giorgio pulled in behind him. A moment later, the gate opened and Anton drove up to the front of the house. He put the car in park, then turned to look at Cara.

“So tell me,” he said, “how long have your parents been vampires?”

Chapter 13

Cara stared at Anton, unable to believe what she’d heard, and then she laughed. “Vampires!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“They were drinking Bloody Mariahs.”

“So what?”

“It’s not a mixed drink. It’s blood.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it? You never see them during the day, do you?”

“No,” she admitted, wondering how he knew about that, “but it’s because they have an adverse physical reaction to sunlight.”

“I’ll just bet they do! Don’t you find it the least bit strange that they both have it?”

“I don’t know. I never gave it much thought.” She had grown up knowing her mother and father were different and even though she’d had questions from time to time, she had accepted whatever they told her as the truth. After all, they were parents; she trusted them.

“So, they sleep all day and only go out at night. Have you ever seen them eat anything? Drink a cup of coffee or a glass of water?”

“They were drinking tonight,” she reminded him.

“They were drinking blood. You don’t find that odd?”

“You don’t know that it was blood.”

“Yes, I do. I ordered a Bloody Mariah once, just to see what it was.”

“But…there’s no such thing as vampires. They’re just myths, like werewolves and fairies.” Even as she protested, Cara found herself wondering if he could be right. It would explain so many things that seemed unnatural now that he had remarked on them, things she had blindly accepted. She shook her head. It couldn’t be true. And yet, why would Anton make up such an outlandish story? What could he possibly hope to gain?

Anton placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Cara, but I thought you ought to know. It isn’t right for them to keep the truth from you.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “If you need anything, a shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, call me.”

“Yes, I will, thank you,” she said politely, her thoughts chasing themselves like a dog chasing its tail. “There’s no need for you to walk me to the door. Di Giorgio’s here.”

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