Perhaps this time she could actually relax enough to enjoy a relationship. She’d been too busy for the first three men in her life, always promising herself that tomorrow she would stop and smell the flowers. She was painfully aware that the failure of her marriage wasn’t one-sided. She’d become as obsessed as Jordan with the success of Hosts to Ghosts.
When Auguste returned she might give herself a break. Somewhere hot, but with a sandy beach and no ghosts. Perhaps, if she thought about that, she might get through the next couple of weeks intact.
* * * * *
Bernard watched Karey all through the meal. He’d chosen the ingredients with care, adding all the aphrodisiac ingredients he knew about and a little wine to spice the occasion. He wanted her, but he wanted the necklace more. He needed the vampire to remove the curse, but Karey was the magnet that would lead him to the treasure.
He was very pleased with himself. All his plans were coming to fruition, except for the one complication, but he should have known that the vampire would bring her lover. Another dupe and to sweeten the pill, Karey’s ex-husband.
If he wasn’t mistaken, Jordan still wanted his wife. Perhaps Bernard would leave them to each other after it was all over, but he thought not. He liked Karey, her forthright nature and her curvaceous body appealing to him on different levels. The slim green silk sheath she wore tonight concealed very little, but was elegant enough to please his heightened sense of class. Marriage wasn’t completely out of the question.
“What do you think of Didiane?” Karey asked, seemingly casually, but Bernard knew better than that.
“A troublemaker,” he replied instantly. “Very beautiful, but she knows it and uses it to get her way. Not an attractive trait, I think. Her intelligence isn’t very pronounced, but she doesn’t need it with her other assets.”
Karey’s eyes twinkled as she gazed at him over the rim of her glass. “That’s not very charitable.”
He spooned up a small, delectable morsel of ice cream. Not many people knew the aphrodisiac qualities of vanilla, if blended with judicious quantities of certain other ingredients. It appeared the chef here was well aware of it. “After the way she took you in when she first arrived I’m not feeling very charitable toward her.”
“I soon learned.” She put her glass down with a stronger than necessary thump. “She wants the Blue Star. But I don’t understand why Jordan followed her. She must have learned of the necklace from him, but he could have left her to it. The family don’t want to keep it, you know, if it’s ever found.”
“Considering the curse, that’s very wise. To be sure to break it, they should restore it to the family of the rightful owners. Camille Benoit’s descendants.”
Karey frowned slightly, the crease disappearing as she tasted her dessert. “I didn’t know she had any descendants. Oh Bernard, this is delicious.”
He smiled, allowing it to deepen as he watched her. If she ever let herself go, Karey Murray could be a remarkably sensuous woman. As he watched, a lock of gleaming red hair fell over one shoulder. It invited his touch. “It is, isn’t it? Perhaps we should come here again.”
“Sure. Only next time, it’s my treat.”
“Deal.” He knew better than to argue with a modern woman, although he would rather be in control. However his salary only allowed so many treats. Karey must earn much more than he did, but if he allowed her to marry him, that would no longer pose a problem.
With Arcenaux and Didiane out of the hotel, tonight was his chance to seduce her. He hadn’t lied, his Southern upbringing had made him uncomfortable fucking someone’s wife under the same roof as her husband, but he’d seen enough to know the marriage was well and truly over. It didn’t matter any more, because they were no longer a couple.
Arcenaux had become the plaything of a powerful female vampire. He wouldn’t be long for this world. He knew their habits from his extensive reading. When she had finished with him, Didiane would kill him without looking back. He didn’t need to seek revenge against that part of the family; it would be done for him.
Didiane had to survive his own spells first. Bernard had toyed with the idea of compelling Didiane to make him a vampire. For all his research he hadn’t discovered the secret, but he knew it involved taking his blood, and he knew that wasn’t enough, otherwise half of New Orleans would be creatures of the night. Didiane was blissfully unaware that he, Bernard Foret had called her, and not the other way around, as she supposed when she called him for the first time. She wouldn’t know until too late. The first time he’d set eyes on Didiane Merchand he’d recognized another being as single minded as he knew himself to be, but her mind was set entirely on herself. Very limiting.
Bernard allowed himself to dwell for a moment on the sweetness of his revenge against the Duplessiss, how absolutely fulfilling it would be, then forced himself to return to the present. Tonight he would seduce Karey Murray, then let her think about him until the play was over and her husband gone, one way or another. Then he would comfort her and if it amused him, marry her. She was easily got rid of, once he had tired of her, and he hadn’t met a woman yet he hadn’t tired of sooner or later.
Karey put her spoon down with a satisfied sigh. He gave her his most charming smile. “Finished? Would you like coffee?”
“Oh I’m too full for coffee! Perhaps when we get back home.”
Home. That place was never home, not to him, nor to anyone since Thomas Sharman’s death. Soon it would be left to sink back into the bayou. Once Auguste and all his family had gone. And that wouldn’t be long now.
He lifted his finger for the waitress, pleased when one came immediately, despite the crowded state of the room.
Escorting Karey home was pure pleasure. He allowed little touches to linger when he helped her on with her coat, enjoyed the way she leaned against him when she stumbled on the uneven road outside. Some of her actions were due to the drugs he’d slipped her during the meal. A little in her wine, some mixed with the herbs on her pasta. Easy when you knew sleight of hand, and could distract for the barest moment it took. Easy when you knew which drugs were best, taught you by your mother from the cradle. She should be susceptible to him when they returned to the house, without realizing anything was wrong, either now or later. It took someone with great skill to do that. Bernard congratulated himself.
She stared ahead of her vaguely all the way back to the car. Bernard selected some dreamy music to match her mood, and kept all his comments low key. It was going well. She stumbled again when she got out of the car at Belle Sauvage, and Bernard slid his arm around her waist, gratified when she leaned on him for support.
He took her to his room. She didn’t object. Bernard had a suite at the end of the hallway where everyone else had their rooms. A small one, but nevertheless it was more than anyone else’s. It was only the service apartment for the concierge, but he had customized it. It was easy really, once he had access to the stocks. So now it was at least livable.
A large leather couch adorned the living quarters, and Bernard took Karey straight to it, going over to the drinks cabinet and opening a bottle of white wine. The alcohol would persuade her that tonight had given her a hangover when she woke up in the morning, help to explain any blank spots. And he liked white wine, especially when it was vintage.
The glasses were large, made for hock. He poured them almost to the brim, emptying at least half the bottle before he brought the glasses over to her. She accepted hers with a smile. “You’ve helped me relax tonight,” she said, her voice soft and low. “I didn’t think I would enjoy it after the trouble earlier, but you proved me wrong. Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it,” he replied, Southern courtesy well to the fore. “The pleasure belonged to me entirely.”
She took a drink of the cold wine and leaned her head back on the plush cushions. “I’m so tired,” she murmured, as though to herself.
“Then rest,” he said soothingly, softly. “Have some wine and just rest for a whil
e. You’re home now.”
She took another drink, sucking the wine in deeply, and he took the nearly empty glass from her lax fingers and put it on the side table, setting his own almost full one next to it.
“Karey.”
“Yes?” She opened her eyes, gazing muzzily at him.
“Where are you?”
“With you.”
That was the answer he hoped for. She was aware of him, but open to influences. “Can you feel anyone else?”
“Yes. Susannah is here.” Her voice sharpened. “And Thomas!”
“Hush, hush, he won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”
“You promise?” Her voice had taken on a quiet, frightened tone, most unlike Karey’s usual upfront attitude.
“Yes, I promise. Now, can you ask Susannah in? Can you ask her to enter your body?”
He could hear the minutest sounds in the pause that followed. Although he knew he must not disturb her, and allow her to perform the task in her own time Bernard longed to take her by the shoulders and shake her. He was so close.
A long sigh issued from her slightly parted lips. Lips that tempted him. After she had found the jewel for him, he’d fuck her. He wanted Karey, but Karey hosting the spirit of Susannah Sharman would be too much to resist. He could even keep her there for a while. Revenge for Camille, his ancestor who Thomas Sharman had defiled, murdered and then pillaged.
He knew the dangers. If she spent too long inside Karey’s body, Susannah might want to make it permanent. Or she might get trapped there. He didn’t want a mad bitch in her body for all time.
While he watched the enthralling sight of Susannah invading Karey’s body, subtle changes in the way she sight, the light in her wide open staring eyes, Bernard thought about it. An interesting concept. Would Susannah be as neurotic as she had been before, or could he somehow tame her?
First he needed to find the necklace. Before that vampire did. Then he would have a bargaining counter with Didiane, even though he did not intend to let go of the jewel. He would hide it in a place he had prepared, one nobody else would find, except himself. She would remove the curse for him, then he’d make her kill Arcenaux, then commit suicide. Even if he had to do it himself.
It was done. He felt it, two people instead of one in Karey’s body. Ostensibly, nothing had changed but inside he’d reached out with all his considerable senses and discovered Susannah, slyly invading. He recited the last words of his spell, the spell he’d begun earlier that day and deliberately left until now to complete. It would seal Susannah and Karey together until he chose to release them.
“Susannah?”
Her voice dropped into the air, lighter and slightly higher than the sultry Karey’s and with a distinctive Southern accent. “Yes? Who are you, sir?”
“A friend. My name is Bernard.”
“Bernard. You are from these parts?”
He loved the delicacy of her voice. He might decide to keep her just for that. “Yes, I’m from these parts. Susannah—“
She interrupted him. “What gives you the right to use my name so freely?” The figure before him lifted her chin in an aristocratic gesture so untypical of Karey Murray he would have known from that alone that she’d ceded control of her body and mind.
Bernard bowed his head. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. I would like to know you better.”
“Thomas will not like that.”
“I can deal with Thomas,” Bernard said without hesitation. It would give him great pleasure to do so and his powers would make it easy. “Do not worry. But we need collateral. Can you remember where the necklace is?”
She frowned, staring at him, a different entity shading the green eyes. “Necklace?”
“The Blue Star.”
The frown cleared. “Oh, that! Yes, I lost it that last night. Now let me see.”
“Take your time,” he murmured, although inside he was seething with impatience. So close! He had worked for this for so long, that now he had to tamp down his irritation, which could so easily spoil anything. Susannah was lucid, but her nervousness bristled at him, attacking his own nerve endings and increasing his edginess.
She turned to him with a breathtaking smile. “Oh I remember! It was when—when Thomas hit me.” Her face clouded over.
“Let’s go there,” he suggested at once. “I promise I won’t let him hurt you. We can find the gems and be gone from here. If that’s what you still want.”
“Oh yes.” She brightened, but only temporarily. Her face fell. “The children!”
“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “They’re safe.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.” Sounding strong and comforting, he reached out and took her gently by the arm. She looked down at his hand. “I can feel that! Do you know how long it’s been?”
She was trapped, between her world and his. He would bring her over, he decided. She was charming, and more controllable than Karey.
“Come with me. We’ll start in the hall.”
Chapter Seven
Jordan sat on one of the long sofas in Thalia’s brother’s apartment, his arm stretched loosely around Thalia’s shoulders. She wore a corset, laced up the front, the top allowed to open slightly to show her sweet little cleavage. Not that he was attracted to her, other than using her for food, but he owed her something for that. She was so young.
Thalia offered herself to him so gently he was ashamed of taking what she freely offered. He wouldn’t take from her again, he would find someone else. A vampire didn’t need a great deal of blood to survive, but it had to be fresh and regularly taken. Thirst for blood could drive him mad. That was what Didiane had told him had happened to Cornell, the vampire he had killed. Now he knew that wasn’t true, but there was nothing he could do about it. At the end, Cornell had gazed up at him from his dark, fathomless eyes almost gratefully. He wondered if he would feel like that when his death came. He rather thought he would.
He leaned back, letting his head fall against the padded top of the seat. “What is it baby?” Thalia’s voice sounded low and intimate next to his ear. When did he become baby? He wasn’t sure he liked a girl ten years younger than he was calling him that. Not that it mattered enough to mean more than a twitch of emotion. Nothing seemed to mean that much anymore. He corrected himself. Almost nothing.
“I’m fine,” he murmured to the girl whose lips were now close to his own. “Just tired.”
She sniffed. “I smell garlic!” She drew back a little.
“I think there was some in my dinner.” He smiled. “Sorry.”
He lifted his head as she moved away, staring at him in horror. “I thought you were a vampire! A real vampire!”
He raised a brow. “Is anyone here a real vampire? What’s a real vampire?”
“Someone who lives by night. Someone who hates garlic, and doesn’t eat. What are you doing here? I thought you wanted food, blood!”
Not so sweet, after all. “Maybe I do.” He turned his head slowly and let his eyes flash red, just for one moment. The look of horror on her face was balm to his soul, until he glanced away and saw the approval in Didiane’s blue eyes from where she sat playing with the young man, on a couch that was the twin of the one on which he occupied.
He turned his attention back to the girl. “There are no vampires, no horrors. It’s fun to pretend, but perhaps that’s because real life is scarier than anything anyone can make up. You’re playing here, and that’s fine, but never believe it, not for a moment.” She stared at him and just momentarily, he saw understanding glimmer. He hoped he’d said something she would understand.
Didiane’s voice came, clear and heavily accented, in a break between records from the stereo in the corner. “What have I told you, darling? Never play with your food!”
His mouth twisted in distaste and he sprang to his feet, turning to snarl at Didiane. “Go back to Paris, Didiane. There’s nothing for you here.”
“On the contrary, mon cher, there is s
omething large and blue.”
The necklace. “If you want it, and it’s found, you may buy it. I know you can afford it.”
“But it’s so much more interesting this way.” Didiane’s voice darkened to a lethal purr. “Adventure is so hard to find these days, don’t you think?” She leaned back into the arms of the young man sitting by her side. “I like it here. I think I’ll stay here for a while.”
“Please yourself.” In that case, he would take Karey home before he left for Paris. He didn’t want to leave her alone with the poisonous Didiane. The same country was too close for him. Although he wanted Karey to find a life without him, it seemed he wouldn’t have the same freedom. He would have to watch without being seen, just to ensure her safety, for he knew that now Didiane had guessed how much he cared for Karey, she would, eventually, want her revenge.
Then it hit him. A bolt from nowhere struck him through to the heart. Karey’s voice in his mind, clear, as clear as if he’d taken her blood. “Help me someone! Please!”
Turning back, he considered the group he’d just left. The music started up again, louder this time and Didiane dragged the youth to his feet to dance. Thalia studiously ignored him.
Good, they had heard nothing. He tried to link with Karey and failed, but that made panic flare inside him. What if she had gone, taken or dead? He couldn’t bear it. A world without Karey in it would be unbearable, something he’d hoped he’d have years before he’d need to face.
Striding out the apartment without a word to the other three, Jordan turned into a dark alley, and glanced around to ensure there were no spectators before he flashed back to the house. He arrived in his room.
The dim light was on above his bed, but with the enhanced night vision he now owned, Jordan didn’t need it. He left the room and allowed his psi senses to control him.
He located Karey in the hall. She wasn’t alone. Cursing, he shot out of his room and headed for the stairs, angry that he didn’t feel safe to flash straight there, but he daren’t risk it. All that mattered was her safety. Now he was close he felt her panic battering at him. His brave Karey was terrified, and the recognition made him furious. Who had done this to her? Who dared to do this?
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