by Lora Edwards
Ovidia rolled her eyes. “Men are such a pain. I’m not sure why we even put up with them.”
The rest of women giggled, and Victoria found herself drawn into their stories of the trials and tribulations of being with their men. It made her ache for a relationship of her own as she heard, through the eye rolls and exasperation, the deep love each of these ladies had for the men in their lives.
Victoria waved at the other women as she pulled the key from her bag and unlocked the door to her rooms. It had been a fun evening and something she had needed. They would leave for the mission the next day and start their hunt for the countess. She had enjoyed spending time with women who were quickly becoming good friends. If she chose to stay with the institute, she would have friends to come back to.
Victor took a deep inhale of the cigar and blew out the smoke, closing his eyes in pleasure as he looked at Armand. “Are you looking forward to visiting your vineyard?”
Armand grinned. “It is always good to get back there, to see the older generation and hear how much I look just like my grandfather.” His smile turned wistful. There were some drawbacks to being immortal, like seeing people he befriended when they were in their prime reduced to twisted bones, their faces becoming lined while he stayed young and healthy.
“I miss the quiet and the silence, the feel of the rich soil in my hands, watching the grapes grow. It will be good to be back.”
“You can take the farmer out of the vineyard…” Victor looked sideways at his friend.
Armand laughed, picked up his glass, and took a swallow. The amber liquid inside the crystal tumbler glinted in the firelight. Neither vampire needed the crackling fire for warmth, but it was a comfort to both, reminding them of their mortal lives from long ago.
“We are both ready for a change, my friend. I have chased the countess for centuries, and it has been my one abiding purpose. I have a feeling we are going to succeed in stopping her this time, and when that happens, I will have to create a new purpose for my life.” Victor looked down at his glass, taking a large swallow of the fine whiskey in his tumbler.
“You will find that purpose. I have a feeling when you are free of the revenge and the preoccupation of the guilt of trying to avenge Amora, you will move on and do great things.”
Knowing Armand had the pale light of the seer from his human ancestors, Victor gave him a wry grin. “Is this a feeling you have or just a platitude for a melancholy old friend?”
“A bit of both. I have seen as well as know it is what you deserve.”
“Vague as always.”
The two men sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the company of the other, the crackle of the fire, and the burn of good whiskey.
Victor broke the silence, a gleam in his eye. “How was your dinner with the lovely Victoria?”
Armand’s eyes narrowed at the casual tone of voice. “It was a business affair and went exactly as planned. I have made sure the countess will have heard of Victoria’s return, and our plan to go to France. I am hoping it will draw her out. I do not think she will be able to restrain herself from taunting her child.”
“So you are saying that was the only reason for taking her out to such a romantic and intimate setting” Victor raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, Victor. I didn’t want the vampire community at large to know of our mission, so I used the setting as a cover. Everyone will assume going to France is a romantic gesture and not institute business.”
Victor sat back in his chair, attempting to keep the smirk from crossing his lips. Armand only became this prim when he had his back up about something.
“We will see.” Victor did smile when his friend’s face darkened. There was more there than simply the mission, and it would be interesting to watch his friend struggle with these feelings. Victor hoped Armand would end up with someone to share his life with on the other side of this quest.
Victoria looked around her cozy apartment. When she returned, she would finally be free for the first time in her immortal life. She hoped being on the mission would give her the distance and the time she needed to decide what she wanted to do with that immortal life. After having this experience at the institute, the thought of returning to the staid existence she had been living in the past just depressed her.
She took a deep breath and shook the maudlin thoughts out of her head. Nothing had to be decided at that moment; she had time to make the decision. She needed to focus on the adventure ahead. It was the first time in her life she would be having a real adventure, one that was not terrifying, one of her own choosing.
Grabbing the handle of her suitcase, she strode through the apartment, shutting the door with a decisive click. It was like she was shutting the door on all of her questions and decisions to be made. She would focus on this first step, on capturing the countess, and then she would deal with the rest.
Chapter 11
“Where is she?” Victor paced the foyer of the institute and frowned at the relaxed, calm posture of his friend.
“She will be here. It is still a few minutes until our agreed-upon meeting time.”
Armand’s comment was met with a growl and more pacing. Victor was always irritable before the start of a battle or mission. It was the way his jitters manifested, and Armand was too used to it to mind the behavior.
The whisper of footsteps had them both turning as Victoria appeared, pulling a rolling suitcase behind her.
“About time,” Victor grumbled under his breath as she approached.
“What are we waiting for? We have a countess to catch.” Victoria smiled and winked at Victor.
“Victor and I have been talking, and we have decided to take a different way to France. Normally we would go through the glass, but today we will be doing something different. It will allow us to gather more information about the countess and her movements.”
“What is this mysterious mode of transportation?” She looked from one man to the other.
Victor slung an arm around her shoulders and grinned. “It is a surprise, my dear.” He led her out of the foyer and down the steps into the same black car they had taken to Sanguine.
She looked over her shoulder at Armand, who strolled along behind them. She had a question on her face, which he answered with a mysterious smile.
Armand watched the play of emotions over Victoria’s face as the gleaming black train pulled up and let off a plume of white steam.
She had seen trains before as they had them in 1888, but she had never seen one as luxurious as this.
The outside gleamed in the watery sunlight, black lacquered with shiny golden letters. It was majestic and sumptuous, and she could not believe she would be traveling in such style.
“We are going to take this to Paris,” she whispered incredulously to the men behind her. They both just grinned and nodded.
Victoria looked down at the sweater, jeans, and boots she had put on before leaving the institute. She felt woefully underdressed, despite the quality of the items Ovidia had helped her choose.
“Everything has been taken care of. Do not worry about your attire.” The skin on the back of her neck prickled at the whisper of breath on her neck and the smooth accent in her ear.
Afraid her voice would betray her feelings, she nodded at Armand and continued to greedily devour the sight of the majestic train in front of her.
She knew there had to be a reason they were taking the famous train. They needed information about the countess, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t also enjoy the experience.
She turned and grinned at Victor and Armand, wiggling a bit in her excitement. Going with impulse, she threw herself first into Victor’s beefy arms, which lifted her off the ground as he laughed at her enthusiasm. She then turned to Armand, stepped into his strong embrace, and looked up into his eyes. She felt the smile slip from her face as it went from excitement to a deeper, darker emotion. She hastily pulled back, but not before she noticed the flash of desire in his gaze.
&nb
sp; She smoothed down her sweater and fixed a bright smile to her face. “I apologize, my excitement ran away with me. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I cannot wait.” She looked a bit sheepish. “I cannot wait to help get any information we need from the passengers, of course.”
A swoosh came from behind her and she turned again to see the doors of the train had opened. The conductor stood in an elaborate, immaculate uniform, waiting.
“Welcome to the Orient Express.” He bowed to her and swept his hand toward the steps into the train. She felt excitement bubble up at the thought of speeding through the countryside while sipping champagne and watching the world go by. It was the first taste of what her life could be like when she didn’t have to hide and worry about the looming specter of her maker.
Victoria walked on board and stopped, gaping. She took in the glossy wood paneling and brass antique lamps with frosted tulip shades as her booted feet sank into the plush carpet.
A gentleman in a royal blue and gold uniform stepped forward and bowed. “Miss, I will be your steward for the duration of your stay. The Venetian Suite has been reserved for your journey. If I may take your luggage…” Victoria handed the handsome young man her bags. “Please follow me, and I will show you to your suite.” She noticed the stylish dress of the other passengers as they moved through to the car where her suite was located. The steward looked her up and down, taking in her casual attire with a frown on his face. Turning, he led her down the train car, and Victoria took in the disapproving glances of the other passengers in their finery. It brought an amused smile to her lips. In her everyday life, her normal attire was more formal than even the most dedicated modern woman would aspire to.
She tried not to stare as she followed the young man through corridors of the various cars of the train. She peeked in at the dining car with its snowy white linens draped over the tables, gleaming footed glassware, and slim silver vases filled with white roses. It made her long to dine in the elegant surroundings.
He stopped at a gleaming walnut door and pushed it open to reveal an elegant cabin. “Your key.” He placed an old-fashioned key with a blue satin ribbon attached on the walnut table beside a royal blue club chair. “If there is anything you require, do not hesitate to ask, anything at all. Also, miss, not to offend, but there is a sort of unspoken dress code aboard the train…”
Victoria laughed, surprising the steward into a smile. “As I have seen, young man. It was not my intention to offend. This trip was a surprise from my friends, and I will be sure to be properly attired for the duration of the journey.” The steward nodded, stepping out the door, and Victoria watched as he led Victor and Armand to the cabins on either side of hers. She closed and leaned against the door, letting a sigh escape her. She could gawk at the room and explore the little amenities and intricate details without looking unsophisticated.
Victoria walked slowly into her cabin. Two large windows sat to her left opposite a full-sized upholstered sofa with plump tapestry pillows in a rich brown scattered across it. She wandered into the bedroom and ran her hand along the velvet of the upholstered headboard. She opened the glossy walnut door on the wall at the foot of the bed and found a compact bathroom complete with a small glass shower, marble counters, and heated towel bars.
She stopped to wash her hands in the amber glass sink then returned to the bedroom. Her eyes alighted on a large green garment bag draped across her bed, Harrods Department Store scrolled across it in golden script. Her usually still heart took a hard thump in her chest and then began to beat with a fast rhythm. She stepped closer and pulled the cream card off of the front, her named elegantly written across the front.
Victoria,
We were not sure what you packed to bring to Paris, and knowing we were going to spring this surprise on you, we took it upon ourselves (asked Ovidia) to put together a few ensembles that would be appropriate for our journey. The gown is for dinner this evening.
Enjoy with our compliments,
Victor and Armand
She held the card to her chest and felt the sting of tears at the backs of her eyes. She had loved and cared for the other staff in the duke’s household. They were comfortable with each other, and in between visits from future institute operatives, the life there was cozy and simple and friendly. This, though—this was different. She had never had someone give her such an extravagant gift, and to think about arranging such an experience with not only the mission in mind but her pleasure…the thought of it floored her.
Setting the card aside, she stared at the bag and noticed there were also multiple bags and boxes stacked underneath it. Grinning, she grabbed the zipper of the first one and slowly pulled it down, unveiling the creation contained within.
Victoria parted the material of the garment bag and reached out to touch the gown inside, quickly snatching her hand back and just staring. She had never worn something of this nature, something so beautiful, something that was almost tailormade to her taste.
Pinned to the silk hanger was another note with her name printed across it. Pulling it off, she opened the folded paper and smiled.
Victoria,
Girlfriend, I hope you love this. When Armand asked me to choose a couple of outfits for you to wear on the train and in Paris, I almost died.
I saw this gown and it was you down to a T. I hope you enjoy it and the other things I chose for you. The shoes—love the shoes. I felt as if I was parting with my children giving them to you. Incidentally, a few identical pairs found their way into my closet.
Just enjoy this gift. Armand and Victor are loaded and can afford it, and you deserve to feel glamorous.
Love,
Vid
Victoria felt the stinging grow stronger as the tears welled in her eyes. These people had become dear to her in a very short time. They cared about her, and she cherished these new relationships. For so long she had held people at arm’s length out of fear for them, but also because she had been hurt so deeply by her maker that she didn’t want to break down that wall and allow others in. These people had snuck in underneath her defenses.
Victoria laid the note down and returned to the dress. It was a dream garment, and she couldn’t wait to feel it against her skin.
The gown was fit for a Faery queen, flowing and wispy. It was as if an impressionist painting had been made into a dress. She had heard of hand-painted silk gowns from Ovidia, but had not seen one in person. Tight and strapless at the top, it flowed down to gently brush the ground. She could hear the swish it would make as she walked, making it look as if she were floating. The vaguely floral pattern bled down the fabric, the pastel colors blurring and blending into each other as if you were looking at a garden through a rain-washed window. Her fingers trembled as she lightly ran them down the cool silk.
Reluctantly, she zipped the dress back into its bag and laid it gently on the bed in order to explore the other delights Ovidia had found for her.
She found an assortment of silk blouses, smart linen trousers, flirty dresses, and sleek sexy ones. It was more than she could possibly wear while on the trip, but it made her smile. Ovidia was a clotheshorse and had obviously enjoyed selecting the outfits.
Turning to the boxes and bags on the floor, Victoria noticed a small notebook sitting on top of the first box. Upon turning to the first page, her laughter filled the cabin. Each page was a depiction of Victoria wearing one of the outfits, with shoes, hairstyle, and accessories she was sure were inside the bags and boxes. Ovidia had left nothing to chance.
Victoria quickly sorted the rest of the wardrobe before opening the bottle of champagne nestled in a silver bucket on the table. She curled up in the blue club chair and sipped the bubbly wine out of a crystal flute while watching the world zoom by out the window, letting her mind wander, just as she had envisioned when watching the train. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt at peace.
Chapter 12
Armand stood by the bar, a short glass of whiskey
in his hand as he looked around at the others in the bar car. Victor was at the other end flirting with a woman in a dress that left little to the imagination. Taking a swallow from his glass, he turned back away from them. Victor would always rather have fresh food. He would leave her none the worse for the wear, as Armand knew, so there was no harm.
He once again scanned the car, waiting for Victoria to emerge from her cabin. He hoped she hadn’t taken offense to the gift he and Victor had left her. He wanted her to feel cherished and taken care of, but not as if she couldn’t take care of herself. He shook the thoughts out of his head, wondering what it was about her that had him so enchanted. She was a beautiful, striking woman, but that was nothing new. There were many women of his kind who were beautiful, as it was part of the process of crossing over. It made a person physically the best version of themselves, as if lifting a veil and letting their beauty shine through. If only it worked for personalities as well.
No, it wasn’t her looks, although she was beautiful. Maybe it was that she was a blend, a blend of what a woman would have been when he was a human, the type of woman he would have married and had as a partner. She also had touches of the modern woman, though. She was independent, not afraid to stand up for herself and give her opinion. Her intelligence and wit really made her the whole package. He sighed. He had to accept that he didn’t feel for her just because she was a member of his own kind, or just how he would feel for any member of the institute. He would need to decide what he wanted to do about it. He had time to devote to a relationship after this mission and now that the institute had changed hands, whereas before he had been married to the institute.