“Really?”
Frederick nodded. “Our driver thinks we’re each absorbed in our respective cell phones, keeping hands and all other body parts to ourselves.”
I paused, processing this. What he was telling me—that vampires had the ability to make people see things that weren’t there—was more or less in keeping with vampire stories I’d heard over the years. Then, suddenly, something occurred to me.
The prominent fangs I’d never noticed before I kissed him at Sam’s party.
“Is that why I never noticed your . . . your teeth until tonight?” I raised an accusatory eyebrow. “Were you glamouring me, before?”
He looked surprised. “I didn’t realize you noticed my fangs at the party.”
I huffed. “Kind of impossible to miss them with my tongue in your mouth. Those things are . . . I mean, they’re massive. And really pointy.”
Frederick fidgeted with his seat belt. “It wasn’t intentional, hiding them from you before. Generally speaking, humans are simultaneously a threat to us and our next meal. Using glamour to hide our fangs from humans in our midst is a self-defense mechanism. A reflex, really. When that particular glamour drops into place it’s usually as involuntary as breathing.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, adding, “The glamour only falls away again once we are completely comfortable in our surroundings. With people we trust.”
He looked at me then, his gaze so open and guileless I understood at once the implication of his words.
He trusted me.
I could see, from my peripheral vision, that we were nearly at the apartment. A few minutes without a seat belt would be okay, right?
Before I could talk myself out of doing it, I unbuckled my seat belt and crawled onto his lap, straddling him, as the Uber guy continued driving us home, oblivious. Frederick’s entire body went rigid, his thigh muscles flexing and tensing beneath me as I situated myself.
His large hands slid up to clutch at my hips, his eyes so wide with surprise I couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since he’d last been intimate with someone. He’d certainly picked up kissing quickly enough, but the little I knew about the era before he’d fallen asleep suggested he might not be used to doing much more than kissing.
Would this be an opportunity for me to teach him some of the other modern skills he may have missed during his long coma?
There’d be plenty of time to figure that out later.
For now, I simply leaned forward until my mouth was at his ear, our torsos pressed together. Frederick’s breath hitched, his fingertips now digging into the soft flesh at either side of my waist.
“Do you have any other magic powers?” I pressed a lingering kiss to his earlobe, my right hand trailing down his chest until it rested over his long-dormant heart. “Or is glamouring people the only one?”
He chuckled, the reverberations of his laughter warm and gentle against my palm. “There’s one more,” he admitted.
“What is it?” The car was parallel parking now, coming to a complete stop in front of our apartment. I pressed a kiss to Frederick’s lips; a promise of what was to come when I got him inside. “Tell me.”
Frederick shook his head. “It’s . . . a rather stupid ability, as these things go. But if you really want to know I’ll tell you what it is when we get upstairs.”
* * *
When we got back to the apartment Frederick grabbed my hand and tugged me along after him until we were standing in front of the hall closet. The same closet he’d made abundantly clear was off-limits to me when I’d first toured the apartment.
“The answer to your what other powers do you have question can be found in here.” He looked at me, gauging my reaction. “If you still want to know.”
He put his hand on the doorknob and a stab of panic went through me. I’d built up all kinds of possibilities for what might be inside this forbidden closet. A lot had already happened that night; I wasn’t sure I was ready to find out the truth.
I put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
“You told me before there weren’t dead bodies in there,” I reminded him, my words coming out a little too fast.
“I did.”
“Was that the truth?”
He nodded. “Yes. There’s no blood in here, either. Or severed heads. Nothing that you will find unpleasant or frightening. I promise. In fact . . .” He trailed off, scratching his chin. “Maybe you’ll even like what you see.”
The note of hopefulness in his voice—the fact that he wanted to share something about himself he’d previously felt the need to hide—melted the last of my reservations.