"I don't understand," I managed. "Why did you think you were being robbed?"
"The man wore a black scarf over his face that he didn't remove when he entered the store.
I thought he was a criminal and was very relieved when he wasn't."
A scarf over his face? My heart took a nosedive straight down to my shoes.
The Red Devil. He'd been the one to tell me about the necklace in the first place, indirectly anyhow. He'd bought it before I could get to it.
"Thank you for your time," Thierry said, and, taking me by my arm, directed me out of the store and into the cold night air.
"A thousand dollars?" Amy said. "It was worth a whole grand? And I totally sold it for fifty bucks. I could have got the diamond earrings instead of these imitation ones." She blinked. "Not that that's the issue here at the moment."
"Perhaps it isn't even the object you were searching for," Thierry said as he regarded my stunned expression.
"It was," I said. My voice sounded flat. "I know it was. And now the Red Devil has it."
"Then everything is going to be okay," George said with a big grin. "The Red Devil helps other vampires. He's obviously planning to give you the chain. What a hero!"
Maybe. I frowned. Maybe that was it. He would give it to me because he was a good guy.
But if that was the case, why did I still feel ill at the prospect that he'd beaten me to it?
And why hadn't he said anything earlier about having it?
And if he was really human and not vampire, what the hell was he doing pretending to be the Red Devil in the first place?
The whole thing smelled seriously fishy. And it wasn't just the fact that we were around the corner from the Toronto Fish Market.
I slept on the leather sofa in Thierry's office that night. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until we got back. I did a few more shots of B-Positive and then felt the need to be alone. Thierry promised he would be close, but not too close.
I lay down, my thoughts racing like Seabiscuit on amphetamines, but the moment I closed my eyes I was out like a proverbial light.
And I did dream. Whether they were prophetic dreams was another matter. I was accepting an award—an Oscar for Best Actress, no less—and thanking all the little vampires who helped get me to where I was. There was a standing ovation. Roses rained upon the stage and I felt fantastic and elated and all of those good things. But then the roses turned into sharp wooden stakes hurtling toward me and there were too many and I couldn't get away. All of a sudden, Thierry was on the stage with me trying to protect me with his body, but that meant he was riddled with the stakes instead.
Another dream that ended with Thierry dying horribly.
Another dream that ended with me sitting bolt upright and screaming my head off.
Then there were hands on my arms, pushing me back down onto the sofa, and a cool hand stroked the hair back from my forehead.
"It's fine, Sarah," Thierry's deep voice soothed. "You're fine."
I blinked and the room came slowly into focus. "Sorry."
Thierry knelt at the side of the sofa. "Don't apologize. You were having a bad dream."
I let out a long breath. "Is that all this is? Just a bad dream. Thank God. I seriously thought I'd been cursed to be a nightwalker."
His dark brows drew together. "I'm afraid that isn't a dream."
"I know that. I'm just kidding."
"I'm glad to see that you can find the humor in the situation."
"Who said anything about humor?" I looked at him. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his jacket was off. "Did you stay here the whole time I was asleep?"
"I thought it best. I didn't want to risk you wandering off in search of your Red Devil."
"No, wouldn't want that." I sighed and looked up into his silver eyes. "God, Thierry, why do you put up with me? I'm such a pain in the ass."
He frowned. "I believe that you're right. I should abandon you to fend for yourself in this, your time of greatest need."
"Are you trying to be funny again?"
"Perhaps."
"You should really leave that up to the professionals." I managed a smile. "I know I can be a pain. I know I make stupid mistakes at least fifty times a day. I know I fly off the handle and get into trouble like nobody's business. I just want you to know that I appreciate your putting up with me."
"As I appreciate your willingness to adapt to… my difficulties."
I met his gaze. "Difficulties, huh? Is that how we're putting it now?"
"Do you have another way?"
I touched his face. "I love you, Thierry. I just wish I'd stop having dreams that ended with you—" I stopped talking.
"Ended with me what?"
I shook my head. "It's nothing. Just stupid dreams."
"You dream about me?"
"Constantly."
"I'm very pleased to hear that." He stroked my hair back and tucked it behind my ear.
I frowned. "They're not always good dreams."
"You dream of my death?"
My eyes snapped back to his. "Yeah. Sometimes."
"Since you met me when I was about to end my life, this isn't an unusual dream to have.
Don't be concerned."