Conversation was as easy as it’d always been, and laughter even moreso. They often sat for long stretches on the beach, staring out into the waves glittering with moonlight, to discuss anything and everything. Francesca adapted fairly quickly to an entirely nocturnal schedule, which allowed them to spend even more time together in the quiet, white-washed beach house.
When they needed space, he moved to the office — usually to take calls or manage things with the family — and she drifted into the kitchen for what she called “culinary challenges”. This involved ordering several strange, seemingly unconnected ingredients to be delivered to the house and challenging herself to make a successful meal out of them. Of course he encouraged this, since he found it deeply entertaining to hear her curse or yell out in triumph over foods he’d never deign to put in his mouth, and he encouraged her to up the ante every time.
When she was alone in the kitchen, she took long phone calls with Maxine and her parents, assuring them all that she was well. To her parents she explained very little, only that she’d started dating a friend and they’d gone on a vacation together. This obviously led to many more questions, and Luis happily introduced himself as her new husband.
That led to several more questions.
Luis liked her parents. At least through the phone they seemed like kind, slightly oblivious people who loved their daughter endlessly. They didn’t appear to know almost anything about her life or how hard she worked for them, but after an initial burst of ire on her behalf, he realized that was a deliberate choice on Francesca’s part.
Like him, she kept many aspects of herself hidden from people. No one ever got to see the full scope of her, or to truly know the inner workings of her mind behind the shell.
But he did.
More and more, she opened up. Despite the very real fear and guilt that dug its claws into her, she still somehow managed to give herself over to him, trusting that he’d care for the tender parts of her she’d hidden away.
It was a trust he intended to honor until the day he died.
It came with enormous responsibility. The moment his fangs punctured her skin, his life and all his priorities changed. A vampire’s world revolved around his anchor. He often stayed up far past dawn, holding her as she slept, his mind racing with everything that needed to be done and all the terrifying possibilities the future held. Seeing to her needs, making sure she was safe, ensuring her happiness… Nothing mattered more to him now.
That was why he struggled when, two and a half weeks into their stay, she asked if Maxine could visit.
He’d discovered that caring for an anchor was a balancing act.
On one hand, giving her anything she could ask for was an easy choice. He wanted her to thrive, and that meant encouraging her to have fun with her friends. On the other hand, Malachi was a slippery son of a bitch and until he was put in a shallow grave, he didn’t want to take any risks.
His paranoia wasn’t helped by frequent frustrating updates from Felix and Milo on the situation at home.
Malachi hadn’t been in contact with the family to make demands for tribute or to hand over Frankie. Intel came through that he’d left United Washington sometime after they did, and he’d been spotted in Baltimore.
That should’ve reassured him. More distance between them was certainly a good thing, but the silence was unsettling. A man like Malachi didn’t just give up after a missed shot. His reputation and pride were on the line. There was no room to cut losses and run.
But there’d been no attacks on Amauri businesses or family members. There hadn’t even been a disruption in the flow of shipments through the docks, though they’d braced for it. On the surface, everything seemed normal enough — which was the worst possible sign.
When a furious vampire went quiet, that was when you really needed to worry.
He didn’t want Francesca to be afraid, so he told her the truth: nothing had happened. That had the unfortunate side effect of making her think that things had begun to blow over.
Luis struggled with the desire to tell her that whatever was going on, Malachihadn’tgiven up, which conflicted with the need to give her peace.
And denying her the chance to see Maxine didn’t feel fair when she’d given up everything familiar to her.
Despite Maxine’s relation to Easton, he knew for a fact that she was a decent sort of vampire who had worked hard to keep her nose clean. If he were forced to allow anyone to visit, at least it was her.
So as the clock began to wind down on the contract and Malachi’s inactivity stretched, he finally agreed to let Francesca’s friend visit on the condition that she must come alone.
She arrived a few hours after dusk in a blue sports car that looked objectively ridiculous against the backdrop of the wilderness and churning waves. Dressed in itty-bitty cut-off jean shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, she looked like a completely different person than the glamorous syndicate lawyer he knew.
Luis met her at the edge of the property as a precautionary measure. He didn’t believe Maxine had any real incentive to betray Francesca, but one could never be too careful with their anchor.
“You look well-fed,” she said by way of greeting. “I hope you’ve made a deposit every time you took a bite.”
Luis stuck out a hand in a wordless demand for her large straw purse. “She’s been given access to all my accounts.”
Begrudgingly handing it over, she asked, “Has she actuallyusedyour money, though?”
“Only for groceries and renting movies,” he sighed, pawing through various feminine necessities like lipstick, a silk scarf, a wallet, a high-end brand of synth, and a wicked-looking knife. There were no trackers or anything else he could object to.
“Typical.” Maxine wiggled her fingers impatiently for the bag. When he passed it back to her, she confirmed, “Youhavepaid her daily stipend, yes?”