Текст книги "About a Vampire"
Автор книги: Lynsay Sands
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Justin said sympathetically. “But it’s really all a good thing. Being a life mate is like . . .” He struggled briefly, obviously looking for something to compare it to and then finished with, “Well, it’s like winning the lotto or something.”
That made her jerk her head toward him with a start. “The lotto?”
“Yes,” he assured her. “It’s all good. You’ll never age, never get sick, never have to go to a dentist again. You’ll always be young and healthy.” Grinning, he grasped her arms lightly and said, “Basically you have won a lotto of sorts. The Bricker lotto.”
“Riiiight,” she breathed and was about to knee him in the nuts when the hotel room door suddenly opened. Holly turned with surprise to stare at the man framed there. Tall, ice blond hair and even icier silver-blue eyes, the man was intimidation plus one. Seriously, her eyes went as wide as saucers and her jaw probably dropped at the sight of him. As for him, he barely spared her a glance, but pointed a finger at Justin and then crooked it toward himself saying, “Come here. Now.”
“Umm.” Justin frowned at the man and then turned to offer Holly a crooked smile. “I’ll be right back.” Urging her back into the chair she’d first sat in, he added, “Just sit down and relax. We can continue talking when I get back.”
He then turned and followed the blond out of the room and closed the door. The moment it clicked shut, Holly was on her feet and following. If they actually went into the room across the hall, she was so out of there.
Three
“What now?” Justin asked with irritation, pulling his door closed and following Lucian into the room across the hall. His footsteps slowed as he noted that Anders and Decker were both now seated in the chairs on either side of a coffee table by the window, and both were grinning.
“Close the door,” Lucian said grimly.
Mouth tightening, Justin drew his gaze from his colleagues and closed the door. He then ignored Anders and Decker and focused on Lucian, eyebrows raised in question, silently demanding some explanation for the interruption.
Lucian opened his mouth, presumably to give him that explanation, but before he could say anything, a stifled chuckle slipped from Decker’s lips.
Justin scowled at the man. “What’s so funny?”
Decker shook his head, but when Justin started to turn his gaze back to Lucian, the man blurted, “ ‘You’ve won the Bricker lotto’?”
Justin stiffened, aware and annoyed that the men had obviously read that from his memories.
“Seriously?” Decker asked with disbelief. “All that razzing you gave me, Lucian, and Mortimer about not knowing how to deal with women and you come out with that?”
“I was being charming,” he said irritably.
“Oh, yeah, that was charming all right,” Decker said on a laugh.
Justin scowled. “Well, she liked it. And my explanations were going great . . . until Lucian interrupted,” he added resentfully. “We’d be in the middle of life mate sex by now if he hadn’t.”
“What?” Decker asked with patent disbelief.
“We would,” Justin assured him. “I was about to plant a wet one on Holly’s lips to prove to her that we are life mates. Wham! The life mate passion would have hit right away and—”
“And you’d have been writhing on the ground in agony,” Lucian interrupted his bragging with the dry words. When Justin glanced sharply to him, he added, “My interruption saved you a physical assault.”
“What?” Justin asked with disbelief.
“You heard me,” Lucian said and then glanced to Decker. The other man was immediately on his feet and moving to the door. Once he’d cracked it open so that he could watch the hall, Lucian turned his attention back to Justin and continued, “You may have thought just being honest and telling her what was what would work far better than the ‘sad, pathetic attempts’ the rest of us made to explain matters to our life mates, but—”
“I did and still do. Certainly it’s better than beating around the bush and—”
Lucian nodded solemnly. “It worked so well, she thinks you’re ‘cuckoo for Cocoa puffs’ which I presume means crazy.” He paused briefly, but when Justin just stared at him in disbelief, he assured him, “That comes directly from her mind. She thinks you need psychological help and was about to ‘knee you in the nuts’—also her thought—when I opened the door,”
“You did not read her through the wall,” Justin protested.
He shook his head. “I read it from her thoughts when I opened the door. It isn’t the reason I intervened. You just got lucky I did.”
“Right,” Justin sighed wearily. “So why did you intervene?”
“Because there are some things you need to know that you didn’t let me tell you before you rushed off the last time,” Lucian said quietly and then added with a shrug, “Besides, you can’t read or control her. It seemed smart to do a quick read and see how she was taking things.”
Justin scowled and then asked reluctantly, “You’re sure she . . .”
“Thought you are crazy?” Lucian finished when he hesitated. “Yes. I am sure.”
Justin shook his head unhappily. “She seemed to be taking it so well.”
“No doubt she thought it was best to humor you,” Decker said from the door and Justin glanced to him with alarm.
“Relax. She can’t hear us,” Decker assured him, easing the door closed and leaning against the wall beside it, his pose relaxed.
Justin scowled. “Are you controlling her?”
“No need,” he assured him, and then added, “She’s gone.”
“What?” Justin squawked and hurried to the door.
“No!” Lucian said, and this time his sharp tone brought Justin to an abrupt halt.
Turning reluctantly, he raised an eyebrow in question.
“There are some things you need to know before you go after her.”
Justin waited impatiently.
“You have more obstacles than you think,” he said quietly.
“You mean aside from the fact that she thinks I’m crazy?” Justin asked dryly. To his mind, it couldn’t get much worse than that.
Lucian nodded. “I know you think you know modern women better than the rest of us.”
“I do. I’ve been dating, wooing, and winning them since I was sixteen, while the rest of you hadn’t even spoken to a mortal woman in centuries before meeting your life mate,” he pointed out.
“Yes,” Lucian agreed. “But you’ve been dating a certain kind of woman.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Justin asked with affront. “I’ve dated all sorts of different women over the decades; blondes, brunettes, redheads, short, tall, skinny, not skinny . . . I’ve dated them all.”
“Yes,” Lucian agreed. “But they all have had one thing in common.”
“And what’s that?” Justin asked with a frown.
“They were all, every last one,” he emphasized before finishing with, “single.”
“Well, yeah, of course they were,” Justin said with amusement. “I would hardly . . .” He paused abruptly as Lucian’s meaning got through to him and then breathed, “Ah shit, no.”
“Ah shit, yes,” Lucian said. “Holly is married.”
Justin suddenly found himself sitting down. He didn’t plan it, wasn’t sure how it happened, but his legs were no longer beneath him and he was sitting on the floor, his back against the closed door, and having trouble catching his breath.
“Head between your knees and breathe,” Decker said sympathetically, pushing on his head even as he said it.
Justin didn’t fight him, but let his head fall between his upraised knees, rested his wrists on his legs and took several deep breaths, then glanced up sharply and asked, “Are you sure?”
“It was in her thoughts, Bricker,” Lucian said quietly. “Not on the surface, but under thoughts of how to handle you was the worry about what her husband must think with her not being home when he got in from work, that he must be worried and so on.”
Justin merely dropped his head and took several more deep breaths. His life mate was married. He couldn’t ignore that, couldn’t interfere with it. He’d turned her and yet, even if she had been willing or proved willing now, he couldn’t claim her. They had laws against that kind of thing. For a people to whom life mates were so important, it was almost sacrilegious to interfere in a marriage. It was also against one of their lesser laws, not a life losing offense, but an offense that could get you dragged in front of the council for sentencing and then punishment of an almost worse kind, one that threatened a man’s genitalia.
Feeling hollow, he raised his head and peered at Lucian with confusion. “What do I do?”
“You turned her, you’re responsible for her. You have to teach her to be one of us,” Lucian said grimly.
“Sure, no problem,” Justin said and then snorted. “She doesn’t even believe we exist or that she is one of us. How the hell am I supposed to train her?”
“She’ll believe the minute she tries to bite her husband or someone else,” Lucian said reasonably. “I suggest you stay close and ensure she doesn’t succeed. Once she loses control and then regains it, she’ll realize you are not crazy, that we do exist, that she is one of us and then she will allow you to train her.”
Justin lowered his head and took several more deep breaths at the thought of having to train her. Being close enough to touch and kiss, but never able to actually do it. Knowing she was his life mate and that a mere caress or kiss would send them both up in flames, but never being able to ignite that fire . . . Dear God, it would be torture.
“Decker,” he said abruptly, raising his head.
“Decker isn’t doing this for you,” Lucian announced, preventing his asking just that. “This is your responsibility. You turned her. She is your life mate.”
“Who I can never claim,” Justin said bitterly.
Lucian nodded solemnly in acknowledgment. “Perhaps not. Or you might be able to claim her some day and just have to wait to do so.”
Justin peered at him in question. “What do you mean?”
“She could divorce, or be widowed,” Lucian pointed out and shrugged. “You might have to wait ten, twenty, or forty years, but eventually she may be single.”
“So long as she doesn’t die before her husband does, or before they can divorce,” Justin said grimly.
Lucian arched his eyebrows. “She isn’t likely to die, Bricker. You turned her.”
“Oh. Right,” he muttered and realized he must truly be overset to have forgotten that for even a moment. Shaking his head, he met Lucian’s gaze and asked, “What do I say about telling her husband? I mean, once she realizes it’s true and she is immortal she’ll want to explain it all to her husband. She’ll have to explain her not aging and—”
“She cannot,” he said simply. “Not until I have met with them both and say it is all right to do so.”
“I see marriage to Leigh hasn’t taught you a thing about modern women,” Justin said with disgust. “She won’t agree not to tell him just because you say so. She has no idea who you are.”
“Then I suggest you ensure she knows who I am and why she should listen to me,” Lucian said silkily. He allowed a moment for that to sink in and then added, “You should be on your way now. She wasn’t feeling any hunger when she left, but who knows how long that will last? We don’t want her biting anyone before you catch up to her.”
“I don’t know where—” Justin paused as Anders picked up the purse on the coffee table and walked over to hand it to him.
“Her license with her address is in it, as are her car keys,” he reminded him. “And her car is down in the parking lot.”
Justin took the purse and stared at it briefly. Married. He couldn’t read her, had turned her, and she was married. He hadn’t had a clue. There had been nothing to tell him that, no wedding ring, no . . . blinking, he glanced to Anders. “Was there a wedding ring in the purse?”
When the man shook his head, Justin let his breath out on a sigh and turned to the door. As he headed out into the hall, he wondered about that. Why hadn’t she been wearing a wedding ring? The question plagued him all the way down to her car. He forced it away though as he got in and quickly started it. Doing so didn’t help much. He couldn’t shut off his thoughts and as he drove toward the address on her license, he found his thoughts a confusion of . . . well, confusion.
He knew he was lucky he’d found his life mate while he was so young, even if he couldn’t immediately claim her. Many immortals waited centuries, or even millennia, to find their mate and he was just over one century old. He was very fortunate in that way. Her being married, though, was a wrinkle he’d never considered. He still couldn’t believe she was. What were the chances? Well, really, he supposed, pretty good for him.
Seriously, if there was anyone who was likely to meet their life mate only to find they were married, it was him. He had that kind of luck—really amazing, and really bad all at the same time. His life was full of such examples. Losing his wallet leading to meeting a really hot girl. A car accident leading to meeting a really hot girl. Being given a shit job, one no one would want on a hunt . . . leading to meeting a really hot girl.
Okay, so a lot of his examples included a hot girl. He couldn’t help it. He was young, healthy, and basically horny. He liked girls, hot girls especially. But best of all was today’s hot women. When he’d first reached the age of dating back some ninety years ago, wooing his way into a woman’s bed had been a lot harder and more work. Good girls back then simply hadn’t had sex unless they were married to the man they slept with. Nowadays though, women were much more sexually free. Good girls did have sex with men they weren’t married to, and it didn’t take months or even weeks of wooing to get them there anymore. Justin had taken full advantage of the benefits of this era . . . and he’d enjoyed it.
Now, however, it looked like his catting-around days were over. Maybe . . . or maybe not. He didn’t know at this point. He had a life mate who was married, someone he couldn’t claim. Technically, he could still cat around if he liked . . . but would he want to? Would other women hold any attraction now that he’d met his mate? Or was he now as good as a eunuch? Christ, Justin thought with horror, this had to be some cosmic joke.
“Here you are, lady. That’ll be sixteen bucks even. Hmmph. That’s a rarity. It’s never an even buck, there’s usually some change tacked on there too.”
Holly forced a smile for the driver and peered out the window to her home. Much to her relief, James’s car was in the driveway. She would have been in a real pickle if he weren’t home. She still might be, she acknowledged grimly, and then cleared her throat and glanced to the driver. “I’ll just run in and get the money for you.”
“What? Oh, hey, no, no, no.” The words were accompanied by a clicking sound as he used the automatic button to set the locks. “Your friend can come out and pay for you, but you aren’t getting out of here and taking a runner on me.”
Holly glanced toward the house and back. Forcing herself to remain calm, she said, “My husband, not my friend. And he isn’t likely to come out. He isn’t watching for me.” She glanced toward the house again and added, “This is my house. You know the address. Doing a runner, as you call it, would hardly do me any good with you knowing the address.”
He eyed her thoughtfully in the rearview mirror, and then said, “So show me some ID with this address on it and I’ll unlock the doors.”
Holly sighed unhappily. “I haven’t got any ID, or even my purse. That’s why I had to take a taxi.”
“Uh-huh,” he muttered dubiously. “And you have the house, but were staying at the hotel because . . . ?”
“I wasn’t staying at the hotel, I was—” Holly cut herself off, unsure how to describe what she’d been doing at the hotel. Of course, the driver took it completely the wrong way.
“Right,” he said, looking her over in her borrowed clothes. There was a touch of disgust in his expression. “So maybe your husband won’t want to be paying for your return journey from your little tryst.”
“It wasn’t a tryst,” she said wearily. “I—”
“Okay. Go on in and bring me back the money.”
Holly blinked at the driver’s about-face. He was smiling at her now, all signs of the disgust of just moments ago gone. It was as if someone had taken control of him and . . . She glanced to the door as the locks were released with a click, and then quickly opened her door and slid out, eager to escape before he changed his mind. She was almost to the front door before Holly recalled that she didn’t have her keys with her. It would mean knocking at her own door.
She started to raise her hand to do so and then suddenly checked the door instead, both relieved and annoyed when it opened easily under her touch. James was forever leaving the door unlocked. Pushing down the irritation that tried to claim her, Holly turned to smile and wave at the taxi driver, then slid inside. She left the door open so he wouldn’t get nervous that she was pulling a “runner.”
“James?” she called, heading for the kitchen. She kept small bills and change in a jar there for emergencies, and automatically moved that way as she called his name again. Holly didn’t wait for a response, but fetched the money she needed and then hurried back outside to pay the driver. He accepted the bills with a smile, wished her a good day and drove happily away.
Holly stared after him briefly, completely bewildered by his sudden change in attitude, but then hurried back inside, nearly running into James as he came off the stairs.
“Holly,” he said with a smile, catching her arms to steady her. “I didn’t think you’d get in before I left.”
Holly blinked at his words, confusion rising within her. “What?”
“I already ate. Spaghetti,” he said. “But I made enough for you too. It’s in the fridge. Just nuke and enjoy.” Leaning forward he kissed her forehead, then set her aside and started up the hall, headed for the kitchen.
Holly stared after him for a minute and then followed. “Wait. James?”
“Hmm?” he asked over his shoulder as he stopped in the kitchen to retrieve his lunch pail.
“I wasn’t here this morning when you got home from work,” she pointed out.
“Or yesterday morning or night either,” he agreed easily and shrugged as he turned to cross to the door to the garage. “I wasn’t surprised. You did say the mortuary’s taxes were a mess. I figure you’ll be working a lot of overtime and starting early.” He paused with one hand on the door to the garage and glanced to her with concern. “You won’t have to work on the weekend though, will you? We have that dinner with Bill and Elaine Saturday night.”
“I . . . no,” she said with a frown.
“Oh, good.” He smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning then . . . well, if you haven’t left early again,” he added with a chuckle, and then slid out into the garage and pulled the door closed.
Holly just stood there staring at the connecting door to the garage as she listened to the whir of the outer door rolling up and the engine of James’s pickup starting.
He’d said she hadn’t been home that morning or the one before. That meant she’d been unconscious in that hotel room with Justin for two nights and days . . . and her husband hadn’t even noticed she’d been missing other than to assume she was working late and starting early. She’d been concerned that he was sitting here worrying about her, and that was when she’d thought she’d only been unconscious for one night and day. She could have been dead from the fall and he wouldn’t have known. Had he even texted her?
If he had, he’d apparently just assumed she was too busy to answer. James hadn’t even noticed that she was wearing someone else’s clothes, or that her hair was wrapped up in a T-shirt.
The whir of the garage door closing sounded and she heaved a sigh and leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering when she and James had grown so far apart. He worked nights—twelve-hour shifts, 7:30 P.M. to 7:30 A.M.—Monday through Thursday. He left after dinner and arrived home between 8:00 and 8:30 in the morning, usually coming in just as she was leaving either for classes or for work herself. The weekends were the only time they had together, usually going out with friends Friday nights. He slept all day Saturdays and then played hockey with buddies Saturday night. Sundays they spent with their parents, his or hers on alternating weekends, visiting in the afternoons after he got up and then having Sunday dinner with them. Sunday night was the night they usually had sex.
Holly grimaced as she realized how regimented they were. Sex once a week, family once a week, friends once a week, work and school the rest of the time and precious little time alone together without friends or family around. Why was she surprised that he hadn’t noticed she was missing?
She should be glad, Holly supposed. At least she didn’t have to deal with the police and endless questions. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew her from her thoughts and she moved to peer out the window, eyes widening when she saw her own car parked there. No one was inside.
Pushing away from the counter, she hurried out of the kitchen and to the front door. There was no one in the driveway or on the sidewalk nearby when she rushed outside. Holly noted that as she rushed to the car; then her attention was taken up with the fact that the driver’s-side window was missing, with just sharp bits of glass sticking out of the door frame. Groaning at how much it would cost to repair that, she opened the door and peered in, gasping when she saw her purse sitting on the passenger’s seat with a folded piece of notepaper on top of it. Reaching in, she grabbed both items and quickly rifled through her purse until she found her wallet. Much to her relief all her credit and debit cards were still there.
Dropping the wallet back in her purse, Holly unfolded the notepaper and read the words scrawled on it.
Holly,
Sorry about the window. Anders didn’t have keys and had to break it to get in. I’ll call and arrange for the repairs.
When you need me, I’ll be here.
Justin
Holly crumpled the note and peered up, then down, the street. There was no sign of Justin. The note said he’d be here, not if she needed him, but when she needed him. And he’d be here? Here where? And who was Anders?
Swallowing, she backed up a couple feet, then turned and hurried back into the house. Slamming the door closed, Holly locked it, then stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should she call the police?
And tell them what? That after picking her up when she fell and knocked herself out, and after apparently watching over her for two days and nights until she’d regained consciousness, he’d then had the audacity to return her car and purse?
That last thought made her frown, and Holly moved to the round mirror above a small hall table halfway up the pale yellow hall. She quickly unwound the T-shirt that covered her greasy hair and then leaned in to examine her scalp in search of the head wound that had knocked her out.
There was nothing. Not even a lump let alone a great gaping wound to explain such a long length of unconsciousness. Straightening, she stared at herself for a moment and then turned and walked upstairs. The main overriding emotion she was experiencing was bewilderment and confusion. She was home safe and sound, but had no idea what had happened. How could she have been unconscious for two days and nights and not have any kind of wound to show for it? Had she hit her head at all? And if not, what had happened? Had she been drugged? If so, how? When? For that matter, where?
These questions rolled around and around her mind as she walked into the upstairs bathroom, turned on the shower, stripped and stepped under the stream of steaming water. How and where could she have been drugged? She had been headed back to the office. She hardly would have changed direction and gone elsewhere dressed in her pajamas as she’d been. She would not have gone to a coffee shop or anywhere where she might have had a drink to be drugged. Heck, she wouldn’t even have run into the corner store in her pajamas. The only reason she’d felt able to go to the office that way was because she’d known nobody would be there and—Holly froze in the process of shampooing her hair as it finally occurred to her that she had missed two days of work. Her husband may not have noticed that she was missing, but the office certainly would have.
Cursing under her breath, she quickly rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water. In the next moment she’d pulled the shower door open, stepped out and snatched up a towel to wrap around herself as she hurried across the hall to the bedroom. There was a telephone on the nearest bedside table and Holly snatched up the receiver to quickly dial the cemetery office. It wasn’t until the answering service picked up that she recalled that it was past office hours and it would now be closed.
Sighing, Holly set the phone back in its base without leaving a message and stood to return to the bathroom. She’d have to go into the office in the morning and try to clear everything up, she thought as she brushed her teeth. She was actually surprised that they hadn’t called the house to ask why she wasn’t showing up for work. Or maybe, like James, they hadn’t noticed her absence, she thought, rinsing the foamy toothpaste out of her mouth. That didn’t seem likely, but if someone had suggested that James wouldn’t notice if she went missing for two days, she would have laughed at the very thought. Of course he would notice. He was her husband. They lived together. How could he not notice?
Very easily, apparently, because it had completely slipped his attention, she thought grimly as she set her toothbrush on the edge of the sink. That’s when she spied her engagement and wedding rings. She didn’t remember taking them off before showering. She must have taken them off the last time she showered, and forgot to collect them again. She had a habit of doing that. She really needed to get them sized. They were both a bit loose and she worried about losing them down the open tub drain when she showered so took them off before getting in. The problem was she kept forgetting to put them back on afterward, which meant she was ringless almost as often as she wore them.
Ah well, she knew she was married, so supposed it was fine. Holly moved back to the bedroom and dropped to sit on the side of the bed. She just couldn’t believe James hadn’t even noticed she had been missing. If the situation had been reversed, she certainly would have noticed his absence. Wouldn’t she?
Suddenly terribly depressed . . . and exhausted, Holly glanced toward the open bedroom door and the bathroom beyond. She’d left her borrowed clothes on the floor and should really go collect them. She should dress and eat and check her blood too. But all of that seemed like too much effort. She’d just rest first, Holly decided and swung her feet up on the bed as she reclined. A little nap and she’d feel better.
Justin watched until Holly lay down and closed her eyes. He then settled to sit on the roof of the back porch. It was directly outside the bedroom window, resting about three feet below the window ledge. It had given him a perfect view into the room.
Lucian had said he was to watch over her. It would have been easier had Justin been able to read and control her. He could have waited inside then. This way he had to stay outside, on the roof, and hope none of her neighbors noticed. The thought made him glance around at the neighboring houses. Most of the upstairs lights weren’t on yet. It was early enough that the inhabitants were relaxing after dinner, settling in front of the television or curled up with a good book. Most wouldn’t be heading upstairs until bedtime. That was lucky for him. It was mid-spring. The days were getting longer and the nights starting later which meant that while the sun was setting, the night sky was still light. He would be noticed here if anyone looked.
Justin scanned the houses again, aware that he’d have to keep a sharp eye out until it grew dark, then he would disappear into the shadows. Until then, he probably stuck out like a sore thumb. Movement drew his gaze to the house directly behind Holly’s and he spotted a wide-eyed teenage girl staring out at him from an upstairs window. He met her gaze, slipping into her thoughts just as she opened her mouth, probably to call out to her parents. A moment later the teenager turned away and went about her business. She wouldn’t recall seeing him. Nor would she look out the window again. He’d seen to that.
Sighing, he scanned the other windows in the house and then glanced over the neighboring houses again. The next hour would be taken up with doing that over and over . . . unless Holly woke up and moved downstairs. If that happened, he’d have to move to a window on the lower floor.
Justin knew he didn’t really have to watch this closely. There was no one in the house with her so no risk that she’d bite anyone, but he wanted to watch her. He enjoyed watching her. Besides, who knew when her hunger would kick in? They’d been giving her blood right up until about five minutes before she’d woken up. But she was a new turn. Hunger might claim her at any moment, or might not arrive for hours. The amount of blood a new turn needed was always more than a mature immortal, but it could vary widely depending on the physical well-being of the one turned. Justin had spotted an insulin pen and blood tester in her purse as he’d looked for her keys and knew Holly had been a diabetic before the turn. But he wasn’t sure how much damage her body had incurred over the years from the ailment. That would affect her need for blood, though he wasn’t sure by how much.
He supposed he’d just have to wait to see.
