“I thought he was rumored to be one?”
Natalie cupped her hand on her chin, her brows dipping. “I don’t subscribe to that point of view. He may have been a human trying to rid his area of vampires.”
Lucien shook her dry look. “By impaling them?”
“With wooden stakes,” she pointed out.
Lucien’s eyebrows rose. He nodded briefly, as though acceding to her point, and started to read the book in his hands.
“You’re not serious, are you?” Rupert asked as he removed a pouch of tobacco from his cardigan pocket. “A cure for lycanthropulism? My, you do find the most interesting projects. I thought the Cauldron of Daghdha was an ambitious undertaking, but you’ve outdone yourself with this one. Lycanthropulism...” Rupert started to chuckle as he packed the tobacco into his pipe.
“I’ll find it,” Natalie said in response, looking up at her colleague, and turned the page she’d been reading. The Cauldron of Daghdha was an ancient Celtic artifact rumored to leave nobody unsatisfied. At least that project had benefits for everyone. She’d found some maps of ancient Ireland and felt certain she was on the right trail for that.
Lucien looked up in surprise, then smiled. “We’ll find it,” he corrected. “We’re partners now.”
Her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment at being caught talking to the ghost, then realized how he’d interpreted her words.
“Oh, uh—”
Natalie placed her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. Ghosts. “That’s not what was meant,” she said, intending the words for Rupert, but glaring at Lucien. “We are not partners. You are blackmailing me to help you find this make-believe cure so that Ned and anyone else I know stays alive.”
“Oooh,” Rupert said, twisting in his seat to stare at Lucien.
“Which goes to prove my point that vampires can’t be trusted,” she said, glaring at the handsome man who sat across from her, staring at her warily.
“I can’t be trusted?” Lucien leaned forward in his seat. “You’re the one whose been playing dead all these years, Natalie,” he argued.
“Because a vampire killed me,” she shot back.
“Not just a vampire, though, right?” Lucien tilted his head and stared at her expectantly.
“Okay, fine. A vampire and a werewolf. Happy? For the record, I don’t trust either breed,” she muttered. She definitely didn’t trust Lucien, either.
She eyed him now. “The sooner we prove or disprove this cure, the sooner you can be on your way.”
Lucien leaned back in the seat and stared at her for a moment, then his nose twitched and he frowned. “Do you smell something?”
She glared at Rupert, who smiled back at her as he chuffed on his pipe. “Let’s just read,” she said tiredly and turned her attention back to her book.
* * *
Lucien glanced over at Natalie. Her chin was cupped in her hand, her eyes blinking ever so slowly, her face pale and drawn. They’d been at this for hours. Natalie had made several trips to the library, and there was still a book trolley with a large number of tomes to sift through. They’d spoken occasionally, when one or the other had found something of potential interest, but had mostly read in silence. It hadn’t felt awkward, though. No, it had been eerily easy to slide back into that comfortable routine of reading alongside Natalie.
She’d changed a little, despite his attempt to cling to the past memories. Every now and then she’d shaken her head or nodded, as though having a silent conversation with herself. It was cute. Now, though, she’d been silent for the last half hour and looked to be fighting a losing battle against sleep. He wondered if she realized she’d been reading for the last two hours with her glasses perched on top of her head.
He closed the book with a snap and set it down on the pile that now reached the same height as the armrest of the chair he was sitting on.
“Come on, we need a break,” he said.
Natalie jerked upright, as though startled awake. She frowned. “No, we can keep—” she paused to yawn “—going.”
He glanced at the window behind her desk. The night sky was beginning to lighten. “I can’t. I have to go before the sun rises, and you need sleep.”
She yawned again then shrugged. “You’re right. I guess I’m not used to pulling one of these study all-nighters, anymore. I’m beginning to skim a lot of this stuff, and I might miss something.”
Or she might face-plant on her desk as she passed out from exhaustion. Lucien refrained from commenting.
“Okay, well...” She rose and walked around her desk as he stood from his chair. “I guess you go to whatever dark place you’ve found for yourself, and I’ll meet you back here tomorrow night.”
He remained where he stood and she had to halt in front of him to prevent herself from walking right into him. He surveyed her carefully. She looked weary. He realized this was her second straight night of little to no sleep, thanks to him. Guilt flared as she weaved a little on her feet, and he grasped her shoulders.
“Go home, get some sleep,” he said in a low voice.
She frowned up at him. “You can’t compel me, Lucien.”
He sighed. “I’m not trying to compel you, Natalie. I just want you to get some rest.”
She grimaced. “Right. So I can be back here, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to help you search for something we don’t even think exists.”
“No, because I actually care about you, and you’re exhausted.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he frowned. Vulnerability never sat well with him. He hated it, but he couldn’t stop his next words, either. “Will you be here tomorrow night?” She’d said she would, but he needed her to promise—she kept her promises. Or, she had, long ago.
Her eyelids flickered, as though she sensed his vulnerability and was as equally uncomfortable with it as he. “Yeah, I’ll be here. We made a deal, remember? I’ll keep my end of the bargain as long as you keep yours.”
Thoughts of her packed car and that guy who’d offered his truck as a replacement haunted him.
Natalie sighed. She lifted her fist and extended her pinkie finger, encased in the soft leather glove.
“Pinkie swear, I’ll be here,” she murmured and then narrowed her eyes. “Pinkie swear my friends are safe.”
He gaped at the gesture. She was the only one who’d ever pulled this with him. Good God, if any of his business opponents ever found out, he’d lose his dangerous edge in negotiations. All those years ago when they’d shared secrets by her bedside, she’d always held him to account. He knew how gravely she viewed a pinkie swear. He lifted his pinkie and curled it around hers.
“Pinkie swear,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll keep you and your friends safe.”
Her brow dipped at his words, but only for a moment before another yawn surprised her. She pulled her hand away from him to cover her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Right, I’m off to crash for a couple of hours, and then I’ll get back to this.” She started to walk around him but he grabbed her arm gently to halt her.
She was so close, he could smell her, that sweet scent edged with spice. “Wait,” he said. Her eyes met his in surprise, a flash of wariness tinged with curiosity and something a little warmer glinted as she returned his gaze before dropping briefly to look at his lips. He smiled and her stare returned to his. He raised both hands to the top of her head and removed her spectacles, folding them carefully before handing them back to her. “Don’t forget your glasses,” he