critical, Violet. You
are going to lead us to the fountain. You are the key to bringing
peace.” The fervor of his voice was mesmerizing, and he lifted his
hand to gently stroke her cheek. She felt like he was looking at
her as though she was the most delicate and precious thing in the
world, and she couldn’t look away.
A throat cleared behind them, and
Violet tore her eyes away from Jonah’s. She saw that Jeremiah had
entered the foyer with Margo on his arm. Margo’s eyes flashed a
warning that Violet recognized immediately. The scowl on Jeremiah’s
face said he was not pleased with what he had just observed. But
Violet found that she didn’t care. Jonah wasn’t trying to scare her
or be mysterious about his intentions. He was telling her exactly
what she asked, and that made her trust him more than the brooding
Jeremiah.
She slipped her arm back into
Jonah’s. “Time to face the music?” she asked.
Jonah smiled at her and together they stepped into
the ballroom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The room took Violet’s breath away.
Just as she had imagined, there were couples moving to the music in
the middle of the room, but the songs were from another time, and
the dancing was just like what she saw in old movies. Others stood
on the fringes of the dance floor, laughing and watching the
dancers. Couples moved on and off the dance floor frequently. There
had to be at least a hundred people in the room. This was the
farthest thing from the Bayersfield high school prom that she could
think of, but that was the only dance experience that she had to
compare it to. She had gone to the prom alone, though, and only
stayed fifteen minutes. She felt her chin rise as she thought how
she and Jonah must appear to all of them.
She saw waitstaff skimming in and
out of the gathered groups with silver trays that had tall crystal
flutes on them. It was only then that the red liquid inside
registered in her mind, and she realized that although this looked
like the setting for an eighteenth-century ball, there was the
undercurrent of something far darker. She couldn’t forget where she
was, not even for a moment.
“Would you like to dance?” Jonah
asked, bending close to her ear.
Violet shook her head. She was
feeling a bit faint and her eyes focused like lasers on all the
glasses in people’s hands that they were sipping so delicately. She
felt a bit nauseous. Jonah’s hand was at her back again and he led
her to the bar that took up the back half of the room. He pulled
out a stool for her and she gratefully slid into it.
The bartender was there seconds
later. “What can I get for you, Mr. Montrose?” Although he had a
smile on his face, his eyes were blank. It creeped Violet
out.
“I’ll have the usual, Bobby. Bring
champagne for the lady,” Jonah said.
“Coming right up, sir,” Bobby said
as he moved away.
It sounded strange to hear the
bartender address Jonah so formally when Jonah looked like he was
just a couple of years older than her. But of course he wasn’t.
Given what Margo said, Jonah had to be a thousand years
old.
His hand crossed to her knee and
her eyes were drawn to his. “What is it, Violet?”
“I was just thinking how much older
than me you are,” she said truthfully.
Jonah shrugged. “Time means little
when you are immortal. But I can understand how that would seem
confusing and strange to you.”
Bobby set two glasses down in front
of them. Jonah’s was a highball with ice cubes and a brown liquid
in it. Jonah gestured for Violet to take her glass. “Cheers to new
friends,” he said.
She didn’t know how he did it, but
Jonah seemed to have a knack for saying exactly the right thing and
making her feel more relaxed. She smiled and they clinked glasses.
“You know I’m not twenty-one,” she said, taking a small sip from
the crystal flute. The champagne was cool on her tongue and the
tangy fruitiness perked her up.
“I promise not to tell,” he said
with a wink. He caught her looking
are going to lead us to the fountain. You are the key to bringing
peace.” The fervor of his voice was mesmerizing, and he lifted his
hand to gently stroke her cheek. She felt like he was looking at
her as though she was the most delicate and precious thing in the
world, and she couldn’t look away.
A throat cleared behind them, and
Violet tore her eyes away from Jonah’s. She saw that Jeremiah had
entered the foyer with Margo on his arm. Margo’s eyes flashed a
warning that Violet recognized immediately. The scowl on Jeremiah’s
face said he was not pleased with what he had just observed. But
Violet found that she didn’t care. Jonah wasn’t trying to scare her
or be mysterious about his intentions. He was telling her exactly
what she asked, and that made her trust him more than the brooding
Jeremiah.
She slipped her arm back into
Jonah’s. “Time to face the music?” she asked.
Jonah smiled at her and together they stepped into
the ballroom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The room took Violet’s breath away.
Just as she had imagined, there were couples moving to the music in
the middle of the room, but the songs were from another time, and
the dancing was just like what she saw in old movies. Others stood
on the fringes of the dance floor, laughing and watching the
dancers. Couples moved on and off the dance floor frequently. There
had to be at least a hundred people in the room. This was the
farthest thing from the Bayersfield high school prom that she could
think of, but that was the only dance experience that she had to
compare it to. She had gone to the prom alone, though, and only
stayed fifteen minutes. She felt her chin rise as she thought how
she and Jonah must appear to all of them.
She saw waitstaff skimming in and
out of the gathered groups with silver trays that had tall crystal
flutes on them. It was only then that the red liquid inside
registered in her mind, and she realized that although this looked
like the setting for an eighteenth-century ball, there was the
undercurrent of something far darker. She couldn’t forget where she
was, not even for a moment.
“Would you like to dance?” Jonah
asked, bending close to her ear.
Violet shook her head. She was
feeling a bit faint and her eyes focused like lasers on all the
glasses in people’s hands that they were sipping so delicately. She
felt a bit nauseous. Jonah’s hand was at her back again and he led
her to the bar that took up the back half of the room. He pulled
out a stool for her and she gratefully slid into it.
The bartender was there seconds
later. “What can I get for you, Mr. Montrose?” Although he had a
smile on his face, his eyes were blank. It creeped Violet
out.
“I’ll have the usual, Bobby. Bring
champagne for the lady,” Jonah said.
“Coming right up, sir,” Bobby said
as he moved away.
It sounded strange to hear the
bartender address Jonah so formally when Jonah looked like he was
just a couple of years older than her. But of course he wasn’t.
Given what Margo said, Jonah had to be a thousand years
old.
His hand crossed to her knee and
her eyes were drawn to his. “What is it, Violet?”
“I was just thinking how much older
than me you are,” she said truthfully.
Jonah shrugged. “Time means little
when you are immortal. But I can understand how that would seem
confusing and strange to you.”
Bobby set two glasses down in front
of them. Jonah’s was a highball with ice cubes and a brown liquid
in it. Jonah gestured for Violet to take her glass. “Cheers to new
friends,” he said.
She didn’t know how he did it, but
Jonah seemed to have a knack for saying exactly the right thing and
making her feel more relaxed. She smiled and they clinked glasses.
“You know I’m not twenty-one,” she said, taking a small sip from
the crystal flute. The champagne was cool on her tongue and the
tangy fruitiness perked her up.
“I promise not to tell,” he said
with a wink. He caught her looking
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