“You remember my husband, Julius,” Marguerite said, pausing beside her seat and turning back to gesture toward the tall, swarthy man she’d married.
Nicole nodded and smiled uncertainly at the man with short raven-black hair.
“And these are my nephews from his side of the family, Tomasso and Dante,” she introduced, waving to two men who were carbon copies of each other. The pair were pretty imposing. It may have been because she was sitting, but Nicole didn’t think so. Really, they were two of the biggest men she’d ever seen. Both were tall and muscular, with long black hair, and both of them were dressed in black leather from head to toe. Nicole stared at them wide-eyed, but then forced a smile and nod of greeting.
“And our nephew from my side, Decker, and his wife, Dani.”
Nicole drew her gaze from the two mountains to the smaller, but still large, man named Decker, and the pretty woman who stood with him. She offered them both a smile of greeting and then her mother’s training made her stand and move toward the coffeepot. “You’re probably all thirsty after your flight. I’ll make fresh coffee.”
“I’ll do that, dear,” Marguerite murmured, reaching past her for the coffee carafe before she could pick it up. “Why don’t you sit down? Dani has some questions for you.”
“Er . . . Marguerite,” Dani murmured as Marguerite carried the coffeepot to the sink. “I actually could do with a coffee, and no offense, but I’ve tasted yours,” she added apologetically. “Why don’t I make the coffee?”
Far from being offended, Marguerite chuckled at the words and handed over the carafe. “Thank you, dear. I know I make lousy coffee and I could do with one myself.”
“You’ll both be wired for hours,” Julius warned.
“Bouncing off the walls,” Decker agreed, and then said, “Make a full pot, honey. I think I’ll have one too.”
“And me,” the twins said in stereo.
“Can I get you something else?” Nicole asked Julius when he just shook his head with amusement and settled at the table. “Tea, perhaps? Or soda?”
He considered the offer and then asked, “You do not happen to have mint tea, do you?”
“I do,” Nicole said and moved to turn on the teakettle. She collected cream from the refrigerator, pausing to consider the contents. Somewhere under her calm demeanor, she knew there was a part of her that was almost frantic with worry, but Nicole couldn’t seem to connect to it. Instead, she felt calm but kind of empty and at a loss. In that state, old training kicked in and she asked, “Is anyone hungry?”
Several minutes later the coffee was ready, tea had been made and the table was laden with everything from coffee cake to sandwich fixings. As everyone settled at the table and began to doctor their drinks or serve themselves food, Marguerite said, “Nicole . . . Nina assured me Jake didn’t bite you. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Nicole answered at once, startled by the question.
“Yes, he bit you?” Marguerite asked with concern.
“No, I mean yes, it’s true that he didn’t bite me,” she explained.
“Good, good,” Marguerite smiled and patted her hand before commenting, “Nina said you were wrestling with Jake when they arrived.”
Nicole nodded. “I know you said not to get near him, but I wasn’t sure he was breathing, and I just wanted to check—”
“Of course, I understand,” Marguerite interrupted, patting her hand again before she was distracted by Julius setting a slice of coffee cake before her.
“How is he?” Nicole asked as concern suddenly rushed upward inside of her on an unexpected wave. It was as if a curtain had been tugged aside, allowing her to connect with her emotions again. “He’s really sick, Marguerite. He really needs to go to the hospital.”
Marguerite immediately turned her attention back to her and the worry inside of Nicole quickly receded.
“Yes, he is sick,” Marguerite agreed, her tone, or perhaps her words having an immediate soothing effect on Nicole. “But it is not as bad as it may seem. He will recover. We simply have to sort out what the problem is . . . and a hospital can’t help with that.”
“Are you sure?” Nicole asked with a frown.
“Quite sure,” Marguerite said firmly. “We will help him. In fact, Nina and the boys have already made a good start. They moved him to his room after Nina brought you up here and have been giving him blood. Apparently, he’s still vomiting it up as fast as they can give it to him, though, so we need to figure out what’s causing it.”
“Of course,” Nicole agreed and then frowned as she recalled the fangs that had slid down from his upper jaw. Troubled, she leaned forward to whisper for only Marguerite to hear, “He had fangs.”
“I know, dear. It’s fine,” Marguerite assured her and Nicole immediately relaxed. It was fine.
“Tell me what happened,” Marguerite suggested quietly. “Nina said he complained of a headache?”
“Yes.”