What if he could go back? What if she went with him? His mind kept circling back to her as he drove. Her intelligence. Her humor. She made him laugh at himself, and no one did that. When he was with her, he felt alive. By the time he arrived in Long Beach, Baojia was ready to jump in the Pacific to distract himself.
Which was fortunate, because he’d have to swim if he wanted to reach Ernesto’s boat. He didn’t want to attract attention by stealing a smaller craft, so he parked in a dark corner, slipped off his clothes, and swam out to the Esmerelda, Ernesto’s favorite—and most luxurious—craft. As he approached the boat, he could hear his family dining on the deck near the bow. He clung to the hull and let the wind carry their voices to him.
“—delighted if she would come for a visit. She’s a darling girl. And I adore the French.”
“Beatrice promised an introduction, but no more. I do not want some silly child boring me with her chatter.”
“She’s over seventy years old, not a child.”
“Desmarais dotes on her—” The wind stole the words from his ears. “—we shall see.”
“It would be a good connection to have. Oh, did you see the new film that is opening next week? We must go, Papa. Rory doesn’t want to go because it has subtitles.”
“It shouldn’t be that much work to watch a damn movie, Paula.”
“Whatever you like, querida…”
They chattered on, the familiar banter of those who had once called him brother and son. Baojia tried not to care. If he were honest with himself, he had never fit in. Not completely. Paula was Ernesto’s favorite and always had been. Rory was Paula’s mate. And Baojia…
He worked. He made sure things ran smoothly and no one was hurt. He had the sudden realization that his human family and his vampire family were startlingly similar.
“Do you see? They are settled now. Your father has his own shop, and your brother has a future. Your mother mends clothes, but soon, she will not even have to do this and will be comfortable in her old age.” Ernesto leaned toward him, whispering into his ear as they stood in the dark alley in Chinatown, so near where he had first encountered the strange creature. The familiar, comforting lilt of his native tongue filled the air as Ernesto continued in English. “Your sister will make the finest of marriages. She is a good girl from a respectable family. She will have her pick of husbands.”
Baojia watched from across the road as his mother swept the dusty front step and his father counted the new money at the counter. His brother was now as tall as he was; they had once looked like twins. But his brother still had the slight frame of a young man and the pale complexion of a clerk, unlike Baojia’s ruddy skin and thicker shoulders. He craned his neck to see his little sister, now grown into a young woman. Beautiful. She was beautiful.
He blinked back tears. It had been worth it. A fair bargain with the monster.
His family would be safe. They would never see him again, but Baojia would know they were safe in their new life. They had a shop his money had helped pay for, along with a contribution from the vampire who would sire him. They had a prosperous future ahead ofutu we them. It was the best he could give.
“Are you ready now?”
He slowly nodded. “Yes, Father. I am ready.”
Baojia shoved back the unexpected memory. He hadn’t checked on his human family in years. Perhaps it was time. His brother had married and had three children. His sister had raised even more. Some of their grandchildren were now among the wealthiest in the city. The Chen family had respect and long ties in the Chinese-American community in San Francisco. And they had no idea who he was.
I like you the most, George.
He smiled at the memory of her voice, despite the cold water and the feeling of isolation. He glanced up at the lights on the deck, shining over the harbor as he hid in the shadows.
They didn’t deserve you…
Baojia looked for the moon, finding it lower than he had expected. How long had he been gone? He dropped back in the water and swam for shore. Suddenly, returning to Natalie seemed far more important than eavesdropping on a family that had never really been his.
Was it only desire? He desired her deeply, but Natalie wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever enjoyed as a lover. Was it her humor? Her intelligence? For some reason, he knew it had become far more than the commitment he’d made to keep her safe.
By the time he reached the house, Baojia’s mind had conjured up forty-seven different scenarios that all ended with Natalie in mortal danger. Had she managed to sneak away without someone spotting her? Had Ivan’s people somehow slipped past the Italian’s guard? Had one of the other enemies he’d gained over one hundred years of violence tracked him down and taken her? Had she hit her head on the edge of the pool? Had she tripped and fallen down the stairs?
His mind was on the edge of exploding with all the ways the human could die. It was exasperating. Infuriating. She was ridiculously vulnerable. He parked the car in the driveway and rushed through the kitchen door. Beatrice was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping what smelled like coffee.
“Where is Natalie?” he asked in a clipped voice.
She lifted one eyebrow. “Hello to you, too. Been swimming in Long Beach?”
“Where is she?”
“Sheesh!” She curled her lip. “Relax. She turned in about an hour ago. Had a little too much wine and got tired of waiting up for you. She’s nuts about you, by the way. I’m only telling you this because she’s conflicted about it, and I’m pretty sure you’re in love with her because you’re doing that panicky, protective thing Gio did when I was still human.”