Page 15 of Ophelia's Vampire

“No reason?” Casimir cuts in again. “Would we not work faster, better, if we worked as a team?”

“No. I don’t think we would.”

“Really? You still dislike me so much after all these years?”

“I don’t—” I swallow the rest of that sentence.

It doesn’t matter. Our past. What I might have felt or thought about him back then. My gnawing shame over how everything went down.

“It’s not a matter of if I like you. We can work this on our own. That’s how I prefer it, anyway, working by myself.”

For a few long moments, hard crimson eyes lay me bare. Casimir looks at me like he can see through all my shit, straight through to the cowardly, scared part of me that was made to feel so small that night with him on the rooftop.

“As you wish, Ophelia.” Casimir reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a card, offering it to me. “If you change your mind, I’ll welcome your call.”

The thick cream paper sits heavy in my hand as I nod and slip it into my back pocket.

I don’t want to think about it, don’t want to consider what reaching out to that softly embossed number would mean for my own success or failure in all of this.

“Don’t hold your breath.”

The words come out sharp and petulant, but Casimir only smiles, the endlessly amused little smirk he wears so well.

“As I said, your call will be welcomed, should you choose to make it.”

We fall silent for a few moments, eyes locked, the bustle of the day flowing around us like we’re two rocks in a stream. Caught in the trap of that deep crimson, it takes him looking down at his watch for the spell to be broken and time to start moving again.

“I should be off,” he says.

Lightly, casually, like that night in Boston might have just been a dream. Like it never happened, or it means so little to him he’s forgotten it entirely.

I should be happy about that.

I should be happy one of the most powerful vampires in Boston has forgotten, or at least has no interest in talking about, the night I offended him so deeply, unintentionally made him think I could get away with taking advantage of him for his bloodbond.

I am no means and no end, sweet Ophelia. No thing to be used, even for a creature so beautiful as you.

“Well then,” I say—slowly, awkwardly, dredging the words up through my thickened throat. “Goodbye, Casimir.”

“Until we meet again, Ophelia.”

And just like that, without waiting for me to protest or contradict him, Casimir turns and strides away. It leaves me staring after him with that same gnawing pit growing wider in the bottom of my gut, and a cloud of dread hanging over me as I leave the Bureau behind.

6

Casimir - Six Weeks Later

“The last I heard, one of the Valentis had it. Some no-name wannabe mob boss with a chip on his shoulder and more money than sense.”

I nod, idly flipping through a manila folder filled with notes and reports and half-speculated rumors.

“You’re still set on having it?”

Looking up, I meet Serra’s questioning gaze. Ten years we’ve been working together, and the nymph is no doubt confused why exactly it is I want my hands on this particular piece. I’ve got no buyer, no plans to use it for leverage in some other deal. No obvious reason it means so much to me.

“I’m still set on having it.”

She shrugs, her raven hair falling over one shoulder and a bit of lingering confusion in her vivid green eyes. “Well, that’s all I’ve got. Maybe Alexandrina will know more.”

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