“That seems rather vague.”
“Damon and Nick would not have befriended Ronan if they had any doubts about his character. They are both real particular about that sort of thing.”
“Where does Ronan work?”
“I believe he’s between jobs at the moment. But he’s not broke if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“How do you know that he’s not broke?” Sierra said.
“Nick told me.”
“He’s not exactly an objective person.”
“Sure he is,” Daniella said. “I’d trust Nick with my life.”
Yeah, but would Sierra trust Ronan with her life? Holding her smartphone, she walked from the kitchen to her bedroom to make sure there was a lock on the door. There was. In fact, it was a surprisingly strong double lock that looked as if it had been installed recently.
That made her feel better. After completing her call with Daniella, she checked her phone for a nearby Chinese takeout place that delivered.
While waiting for her dinner to be delivered, she printed up an agreement for Ronan to sign.
“You’re responsible for your own food,” she told him half an hour later.
“Not a problem. I’m not into Chinese takeout.”
“High salt content, I know,” she said. “But I am such a sucker for Shanghai noodles, moo shu pork, and pot stickers.”
She set her food on the dining table, took a seat, then opened the white container and used the chopsticks to eat some of the noodles.
“They look like worms,” Ronan said.
“Cutting the noodles would be bad luck since they represent a long life.”
Ronan snickered.
“So you don’t believe in bad luck?” she said.
His expression darkened but he made no comment.
She ate a pot sticker before speaking again. “You never did say what your claim was to this house.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I’m asking now.”
Ronan sat across from her. “I have a prior claim.”
“What kind of prior claim?”
See, this was why Ronan preferred compelling humans to do his bidding. Because explanations got messy and complicated. He could hardly say that the place had been his family’s home in 1900.
“My family has a claim prior to your family’s.” Ronan made sure to maintain direct eye contact with Sierra as she sat across from him in the hopes that some amount of compelling would work on her.
He wasn’t sure how well it worked because all she said was, “We’ll see about that.”
He’d been telling the truth for once. His family had moved into the house when it was brand-new. He remembered that summer. It had been very hot. He’d just turned ten and his sister Adele was five. Their birthdays were only a week apart in July, which had aggravated them as kids.
Sierra reached for another container of food. “My great-uncle owned this property for ages.”
Ronan almost smiled. He doubted “ages” had the same meaning for her that it did for him. When you were immortal, your perspective about time—and everything else—changed. As for those long noodles of hers representing a long life, again the concept of a long life changed when you had forever.
Realizing she was waiting for him to reply to her last comment, he repeated her words back to her. “We’ll see about that.”
“I printed out the temporary living arrangement for you to sign. I talked to Daniella. She said you were trustworthy. She said Damon and Nick would vouch for you as would a number of others in the neighborhood.”
He made no comment as she slid the agreement and a pen across the table for him to sign. He did so, scrawling his name across the bottom of the page.
“It must be nice to have friends who will vouch for you like that,” she said.
“You say it as if you aren’t familiar with the concept.”
“We moved around a lot when I was a kid. I kept doing that as I got older. So I don’t have many close friends.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“What other reason could there be?”
Ronan noted that she avoided all eye contact. She was hiding something. Shit. He didn’t need more mysteries.
* * *
Sierra’s dream started out innocently enough. She was in a large room filled with people all dressed in vintage clothing. Everyone seemed happy.
Then she was in a house with no lights. It was pitch-dark. Suddenly little beady red eyes appeared all around and above her. One of them came closer until she could see it was the burning tip of a cigar held in a stocky man’s hand. He smiled at her before striking her face and trying to burn her eyes out with his cigar.
She screamed and sat bolt upright in bed.