It was an obvious statement, and she knew what he meant by speaking it aloud. He wished it known that she understood why she was here. He wished to skip the pretense. She appreciated that much. “You made your point perfectly clear, Count Dracula. What manner of blade you hold against my throat I do not know, but its presence there is undeniable.”
A wicked smirk twisted his lips. “Do not tempt me. Although I find knives are so…impersonal.”
She could not keep the warmth from her cheeks, and she turned her gaze away from the creature in front of her. The room was filled with dining couples, business partners, and friends. Joining them now was a monster…and whatever she was. “Why did you choose this place?”
“I thought perhaps you would appreciate somewhere with the safety of a crowd. As I am unlikely commit any rash acts or do you harm where I may be discovered.” He moved toward her. She locked up as he did. She had become comfortable with his distance, but now he seemed to wish to change it. “And I am eager to enjoy an authentic European meal. I do miss it. The cuisine here in America is…lacking.”
She took a single faltering step away from him. By all the Gods, he was tall. He stepped closer to her, and she felt so very tiny in his presence. The power that filled the air around him washed over her like the fog had done the previous night. Without realizing it, she had clutched her hand to the center of her chest over her heart, which was now thudding painfully loud.
She wondered if he could hear it.
Judging by his smile, the answer was yes. “May I take your coat?”
She stammered an embarrassing sound before she managed to swallow it all down. This was a negotiation—a parlay. She needed to remain calm. She nodded. Her resolve lasted a brief second. She jolted and went stiff as he circled behind her like some great shark and placed his hands on her shoulders.
He lowered his head to her ear. His cold breath on her skin made her shiver. “You were brave to come here.”
“As I said, I have little choice…”
He slipped her coat from her shoulders. She stepped forward, eager to put some distance between them. She turned to watch as he hooked the dark gray fabric on the wall. Crimson eyes caught her gaze. “There is always a choice.”
When he moved toward her again, she took a step back too quickly and bumped into the edge of the table. A knife and fork clattered to the ground loudly.
Not a single person turned to look.
She watched the room, curious and afraid in equal measures. There was something wrong here. Very wrong. With a rising sense of dread, she looked back to the vampire before her. “This place is no safer than any other, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I were to hurl that glass against the wall, not a single person would hear it shatter, would they?”
Vlad smiled, pleased. He crouched to pick up the fallen silverware and placed it back on the table. “Sit, Miss Parker. Let us talk.” He pulled her chair out for her.
“No. Not until you explain to me what you have done here.” She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to sound firm. “I will not knowingly walk into a lie. Did we not make a promise, after all?”
“That we have. Forgive me.” He raised his hand and, on cue, all conversation ceased. Maxine looked out at the room. The true horror of her situation was now laid out before her. She thought perhaps he was merely hiding their presence and keeping them unseen and unheard.
No. It was far worse than that.
Everyone in the room—absolutely everyone—had simply stopped. Stopped everything. They were standing or sitting, whichever they had last been in the process of doing and were staring blankly ahead like so many dolls in a window display.
Maxine’s heart thumped in her ears almost painfully as fear flooded through her system. He had everyone in the room under his control and dangling from his fingers like puppets. Each and every one of them was in his thrall.
When he spoke, it startled her. “I had hoped to spare you this.”
She would have withdrawn farther, but she was already up against the edge of the table. She had nowhere to go. Not just here within the restaurant, but in a far more global sense. “Spare me what? The truth of