Read Online Romancing The Dead by Tate Hallaway - Free Book Online Page A

glow of retreating taillights. Holding the muslin aside a little longer, I scanned the darkness. All I really saw was my own worried expression staring back at me. Upstairs, Benjamin threw a pile of books on the floor.
    Noticing Mátyás’s startled jump and sheepish recovery, I said, “Even Benjamin’s worried. That can’t be good.”
    Perhaps in deference to our shared smile, Mátyás merely shrugged. “He’s a vampire, Garnet.”
    “That doesn’t mean he can’t get in trouble,” I said. “He could be hurt.”
    “Or he could just be off having the time of his life, ” Mátyás said. Then, holding up a hand to stop my hot retort, he added, “Even the police won’t file a missing person’s case until he’s gone at least forty-eight hours. You saw him today?”
    I nodded. “A couple of hours before the lecture.”
    “Had he fed recently?”
    I pursed my lips and shook my head, not trusting my voice not to betray my frustration that I couldn ’t get Sebastian to take my blood the night before.
    “How long had it been?”
    How was I supposed to know? It wasn’t like Sebastian shared his bloodletting calendar with me. “I don’t know,” I muttered. Mátyás was smiling again, but it wasn’t at all the kind I wanted to share. “If you’re worried,” he purred, “maybe you should call them.”
    “What?”
    “I know he keeps his black book around here somewhere,” he said, walking back into the kitchen. I stomped after him, curious, despite myself. Mátyás must be putting on a show rifling through all those recipes and such on the top of the fridge; there was no way Sebastian’s estranged son knew more about where he kept his most personal things than I did.
    “Black book?” I repeated, even though I was afraid I knew exactly what could be found in this supposed book of Sebastian’s.
    “Ah, here we go.” Mátyás held up a thin black planner. He started flipping through it. He stood close enough to me that I could smell the beer on his breath. I resolutely kept my eyes from looking down at the book.
    “I’m not going to call those . . . ghouls,” I told him.
    “No worries, darling. I’ll do it,” Mátyás said.
    I snatched the book from him. “No, you won’t.”
    Mátyás put a hurt expression on his face. “I thought you were really worried about Sebastian. Perhaps if I called, you could put your mind at ease.”
    “You’re not doing this. Nobody is doing this,” I said. My hands shook just about as much as my voice. I really wanted to hurl the book out the window, into the trash, at Mátyás’s smug face—anything to get the tangible evidence of the other women out of my hands.
    Mátyás held up his hands in mock surrender. “I was just thinking of you.”
    “Liar,” I snarled. Before I succumbed to the desire to pummel him, I turned on my heels and trudged up the stairs. After nearly tripping on Mátyás’s suitcases in the hall, I threw myself on Sebastian ’s bed. Tears burned in my eyes as I caught the scent of Sebastian’s shampoo on the pillows. In my hands, I still clutched the book. I threw the evil thing against the wall with a shriek of frustration.
    I lay on the bed and stared at the corner where the black book fell. After several attempts to ignore it, I got to my feet and picked it back up. The book itself was thin and flimsy —cheaply made. The edges were worn and the spine broken. My fingers felt the roughly textured cover as though looking for some clue as to its contents without actually opening the thing. There were no identifying marks on the outside, nothing to indicate that it held anything earth -shattering. What was I afraid of? That I would find the name of someone I knew? So what if I did? Sebastian took their blood; he wasn’t sleeping with them. Was he?
    This was the part of the whole ghoul situation that I was never entirely sure about. All my interactions involving Sebastian and biting happened during sex, but they didn’t have to. The times