“May I sit down?” She indicated the chair alongside the sofa, but she didn’t move until I’d nodded.
“Please.” As if by instinct, I moved a little bit further away. Lucas came around the couch and sat down, putting himself between Veronica and me. He took my hand in his, and I shivered at the chill in his skin.
“First, Jackie, I must apologize for not introducing myself when we met at the Pecan Pie Festival. It was rude. But at that time, I was not yet ready to make myself known.” She turned her attention to Lucas. “I was not yet ready to face Lucas.”
“But now you are?” I squeezed his hand. “And are you also, uh, ready to give us some explanations? Like what you did to him that night back in New Jersey, and why?”
“Of course. I’ll be happy to tell you everything.” She answered me, but she didn’t look away from Lucas. “You may not like everything I say, but I promise, I will not lie or evade.”
“Hmmm.” I couldn’t help staring at Veronica. It wasn’t every day that I met a vampire—well, a complete vampire, anyway; Lucas was only a half-vamp. Or so we assumed. But Veronica had an otherworldliness about her that I suspected had more to do with her long life than with any mystical powers she might possess.
She smiled at me then, and I nearly fell off my seat. The full force of her attention was overwhelming. Tilting her head, she ran the tip of her tongue over her red lips.
“I should probably warn you, Jackie. My many-times over great granddaughter inherited her gift for hearing thoughts from me. I’m quite proficient at blocking them, but just now, it is important that I’m at full alert, to make sure we’re not disturbed by anyone who means us harm or overheard by any spies. So I’m able to hear you. I’m sorry about that, but it’s for all of our safety.” She paused and then added, “Primarily yours. At this point in my existence, I’m nearly invincible. You two are not.”
“We got it. Don’t think anything we don’t want you to know.” Lucas nodded.
“Not you, darling.” Veronica lifted her shoulder in small Gallic shrug. “As I turned you, I am not privy to your thoughts. It’s some sort of built-in measure of privacy, I assume, although I have no idea for sure.”
“Let’s start there.” Lucas opened his free hand, the one that wasn’t still clutching mine. “Let’s begin with why you, uh, turned me. I want to know all the answers. I think I deserve to know them.”
“Of course you do. But the story doesn’t begin with you, dear one. With any luck and some hard-fought battles, it won’t end with you, either. But in order for you to understand everything fully, I would ask that you indulge me. I’d like to share a little bit of history before we, as you might say, get to the meat of it.”
Lucas glanced at me, and I nodded. “I’ve always been someone who wants the whole story. So please, by all means. Tell us everything from the very beginning.”
“Excellent.” She clasped her hands around one denim-covered knee. “Before I begin, I wonder if we might have some tea. I’m especially partial to that lavender blend you’ve been brewing lately, Jackie. Do you mind?”
My first instinct was to ask her how she knew about my favorite herbal tea, but I decided it wasn’t important at the moment. Instead I nodded and stood up.
“Let’s adjourn to the kitchen. I’ll put on the kettle.”
“THIS IS EXACTLY what I needed tonight.” Veronica lifted the delicate china cup to her perfect lips and took a sip, closing her eyes. “Thank you, Jackie, for sharing it with me. I don’t want to jump ahead of myself, but I’ve been keeping my eye on you both for some time, for your protection. I’ll admit that when you brew this tea, I’ve been nearly salivating. It’s excellent.”
It wasn’t every day that a centuries-old vampire complimented my tea, so I decided I was perfectly within my rights to be a little proud and preen a bit.
“It’s actually my own blend. I’m picky about tea, and I don’t like most of the store-bought brands. I’m considering adding custom-blended teas to our catering menu.”
“A wonderful idea.” She nodded and then carefully set down her cup on the saucer and took a deep breath. Beside me, Lucas tensed slightly. We’d been waiting so long for answers to the mystery that had been his life the past few years. Now, both of us were afraid of that truth.
“My story begins, as does that of every living thing, with my birth. Mine took place in Scotland, in the year 1628.”
My breath caught. I’d surmised that Veronica had lived a long time, but the reality of nearly four hundred years of life—or something like it—was startling to consider when it was confirmed to me. Veronica’s lips twitched.
“I’ve aged well, I like to think.”
I nodded fervently, and she continued.
“We weren’t an especially wealthy or well-known family. My father had pulled himself up from the merchant class to the edges of aristocracy, but even so, we weren’t special as a family. However, by the time I could speak, it was clear that there was something different about me. I had a gift, although there were times when I was unsure if it was instead a curse.
“As I’ve told you, I have the gift of mind-hearing. When I was very young, I wouldn’t have described it as such; I merely knew things. My parents and our servants became used to it in time. There were no secrets around me. I didn’t know how to control the ability, but I did learn discretion, thanks to my mother. She never punished me or showed fear of me, but she counseled me to be careful about where and how I shared what I knew. She told me that knowledge was currency, and I had to learn to spend it wisely. So I understood early the value of holding my tongue and biding my time.
“I was the oldest of five children, and before I was even a full decade old, there was talk of whom I would marry. My parents realized that they had to be cagey about whatever match I made. If my gift was discovered, there was the real chance that I might be burned as a witch. Aside from the obvious downside of that possibility for me, it would irreparably harm my family’s reputation and destroy my siblings’ chance of happiness and prosperity.
“My father had a connection, a distant cousin who had met and married a woman from the coast of Spain. The woman had been the only child and heir of a wealthy family, and so my father’s cousin had moved to Spain after his marriage to become the don of the family’s villa. This cousin had a son a little older than me, and after a few years of correspondence, the marriage was arranged. Along with my parents, I traveled to their villa, and I married Benito Carruthers.”
Lucas snorted. “Quite a name.”
Veronica laughed, and as on the night we’d first met, I was reminded of the tinkling of bells. “It was indeed, and my sisters teased me about it unmercifully before I left Scotland for my wedding. They called him ‘little Benny’. It made me cross, because I was terrified of living so far from my family and of marrying a man I’d never met. But the first moment I laid eyes on Benito, I fell in love.”
My heart thudded. No matter the context, everyone loved a love story, and I was no different. The way Veronica spoke, I could picture the nervous young girl, so far from her home and country, meeting the man whom she was bound to marry. It sounded like a romance novel.
“It was very much like a romance novel.” Veronica smiled at me. “Benito was tall and well-built, with his mother’s black hair and dark eyes. He lifted my hand to his lips, and at the last minute, he turned it over and pressed a kiss to the palm. I was . . . smitten.” She sighed, and I found myself sighing right along with her. Next to me, Lucas cleared his throat.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Lucas. You must indulge an old woman’s memories.” She winked at me. “Suffice it to say that although our marriage had been arranged like the most practical business deal, for us it was a love match from the beginning. It helped that I could easily anticipate Benito’s intentions and desires; pleasing him was not difficult when I could hear what he was thinking. When my parents left me there and returned to Scotland, they were satisfied that they had done the
very best they could have for me. By the end of our honeymoon, I was already with child.
“Our son Adriano was born before our first wedding anniversary. He was strong and healthy, and my life was complete. I couldn’t imagine ever being happier. Benito’s parents loved me as though I were their own daughter, my husband desired me above all others, and now I had gifted him with a son. We were blessed beyond measure.”
I was suddenly struck with sadness, because I realized that this story could not have a happily-ever-after ending. The fact that Veronica sat here in front of us, a supernatural creature, made that fact plain. I dreaded the next part of her tale. Part of me wanted to cry out for her stop, to let it end where she’d just paused.
“Oh, Jackie. I wish that, too. I wish that I’d given my husband a dozen more healthy children and grown old with him in our beautiful home. But wishing for something doesn’t make it so, and pretending can’t change the past.” Veronica laid a hand on my arm. I jumped; she was so oddly cold, and then there was something else, too . . . something slightly predatory, as when I’d been near a panther at the zoo. I didn’t feel that I was in danger, but I wasn’t perhaps entirely safe, either.
If she noticed my reaction, she didn’t let on.
“When Adriano was just shy of a year old, some business associates of my father-in-law came to visit us at the villa. They were three brothers, Spaniards, and two were perfectly normal, joining us for meals and walks along the beach. But the third one, we were told, had recently been ill. He wasn’t contagious, but he could not walk with us, and he didn’t come to dinner. When the men met to discuss business, he kept to the shadows, speaking only now and then. Such was his avoidance of people that I didn’t actually meet him until they’d been at the house for a few days, but when I did . . . well, Jackie, your reaction to my touch just then was not unlike my own feeling.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Of course, I had the additional benefit—or curse—of being able to hear the man’s thoughts. What I heard frightened me beyond belief. This man—his name was Diego del Fuego—his cravings were terrifying. He wanted . . . blood. He wanted to drink from the servants, male and female, and he wanted my Benito. He was curbing his desires, but just barely. And then he met me, and after that, I was who and what Diego wanted. What he craved. He would do anything to have me. I could hear, deep in the recesses of his twisted mind, the beginnings of a plan that would spell the destruction of my family.
“His brothers didn’t know what he was, though perhaps they had suspicions, but thus far, he’d kept his, ah, activities to the shadows. He’d drunk prostitutes and thieves and animals. But now he was in company again, and the pounding of his want was like a beat in my own chest. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before he gave into it.
“But what could I do? If I had told Benito . . . why, he would have thought that I was insane. Or perhaps he would have believed that I was a witch, as my parents had feared might happen. There was no cause for anyone else to suspect that Diego was anything more than an invalid visitor. I thought, and I cried, and I prayed. I went to our priest, and in the sanctity of the confessional, I shared my suspicions, never letting on how I’d come by these fears. The priest told me that I was letting my imagination run away with me and suggested it was time for me to have another child.
“If it had only been that easy! Finally, with no other recourse, I confronted Diego in his room late one night. I told him what I knew, and I begged him, on the life of my child and his brothers, to go away and leave us before it was too late. I swore that I would never tell anyone, and I tried to convince him that despite this misfortune that had befallen him, there was still good deep within his soul. I suggested that he go to the church and request help. I thought perhaps a priest with an open mind could help him.
“But I’d underestimated his lust for my blood. Diego listened to me speak, and once he realized my gift, my ability—because how else would I have known for certain what he was?—then he wanted me all the more. So he made me an offer. My life, my blood, and ultimately, my companionship, for the lives of my husband, my in-laws and my son.”
Veronica fell back against her chair and covered her eyes. My heart was breaking along with hers, and I wanted to reach out and comfort her. But I stayed still.
“I protested and I bargained, but in the end, Diego stayed firm. He gave me one day to decide. If I came to him the next night and gave myself willingly, he would never touch anyone else at the villa. If I did not, he would decimate every living creature there. Man, woman and child.”
She took a deep breath. “Of course, there was no real choice. I promised I would come to him that next night, but I begged for one concession. It was bad enough that I would be forced to leave my family, but I couldn’t bear the thought of Benito and my son believing that I had left them of my own free will. So I wanted Diego to make it look as though I’d been taken. Kidnapped. It happened, after all; there were pirates who looted that coast, and it wouldn’t have been out of the question for a band of them to take a young woman they might’ve spied walking on the beach.
“Diego recognized that this would actually be in his best interest as well, so he agreed. The next day, he shared with his brothers and my father-in-law that while walking late at night, he’d seen the silhouette of a ship off the shore. He planted that seed. The next night was meant to be the final evening of their visit, and he presented the men with a bottle of expensive port. He’d drugged it, so that all the men fell into a deep sleep. Once they were all passed out, I went to Diego.”
Veronica’s face was a mask of pain. Four centuries had not dulled the agony of the decision that she’d been forced to make.
“Together we tore apart my room, broke a window and for the piece de resistance, he cut my wrist and spread blood over the sill and bed. I was still bleeding when I bent over the crib of my sleeping son and kissed him for the last time. And then I touched my lips to my husband’s, breathed a good-bye to my Benito. After that . . . Diego dragged me outside, down to the beach. Among the rocks, he laid me down and drank me.”
I touched my face, surprised to feel tears on my cheek. “How did you go on? How could you leave them?”
She stared out the window into the dark night. “I had no choice. Once I had been turned, I knew I could never return to my family. I was too different. And Diego held that threat over me, too. As long as Benito was alive, as long as my son lived, I owed Diego all of me. He was jealous, and he could be cruel. I had planned to get away from him as soon as I could and kill myself, but I’d underestimated how difficult it is to destroy a vampire. And I worried, too, that if I were gone, Diego might go back and kill my family. So I stayed alive . . . or whatever I was, whatever I am now, in order to give my husband and my son the best chance at life that I could.”
“And they really believed you’d been taken by pirates?” Lucas spoke for the first time in a while.
Veronica nodded. “As coincidence would have it, there really was a band of privateers not far from the coast that night, and they raided a nearby island town. It wasn’t a stretch to assume they’d also taken me. Diego had left a trail for the men to follow, and he’d robbed the villa of some valuable pieces, as well. He made quite the show of helping the men look for me, although of course he told them he was still too weak to be out in the sun. Meanwhile, I was hiding at a house he’d rented several hours’ journey from my home. After a few days, Diego and his brothers left the villa. His brothers went their way, and Diego separated from them. From that time on, we were together.”
“You must have hated him,” I breathed. I hated him.
“In the beginning, I did. But one thing you must know about a long life is that hate will consume you. After the first hundred years, I began to let it go.” Veronica traced the wood grain on my kitchen table. “Benito . . . he never married again. I’d thought he would. He was young and virile and wealthy, but he grieved for me the rest of his days. My son grew
up well, raised by his father and his grandparents. When he was in his early twenties, he made a journey to Scotland to meet his mother’s family—my parents and my sisters and brothers. I’d kept track of him all this time, but I couldn’t approach him as long as Benito was alive or his parents were near enough that they might recognize me. I followed Adriano to Scotland, though—I’d been back before that, to check on my family there—and it was in my homeland that I spoke to my son for the first time in twenty years. I pretended to be a stranger he met on the stage, and we only talked of small, mundane topics, but still—I was with him. I could watch his eyes, search his face for bits of Benito and myself.
“I was so proud of him. I stayed nearby as long as he was visiting, never close enough again to be seen, but just watching . . . I saw him meet the girl who would become his wife. He married a lovely Scottish girl and took her back to Spain. I heard eventually of the births of my grandchildren.” She sniffed. “They named their first daughter Veronica. I cried for days when I learned that.”
“What about your life with Diego?” Lucas leaned forward. “Did you drink? Was the transition difficult for you? When did you leave him?”
Veronica’s brow wrinkled. “The transition was . . . painful, and full of sorrow. Not only had I lost my family and my humanity, in those days we assumed that vampires were all evil, a scourge, and despicable to God. So I lost the Church as well. I was too afraid to approach even the church yard. And yes, I drank. In the early days, I followed Diego’s lead. He brought me to evil men and women, to those about to die . . . I had to drink. The craving drove me mad at first. But I never took a life without crying for days afterwards, even those lives that were about to end anyway. Before too long, those were the only humans I would drink: those on the brink of death. I told myself that I was easing their way into the inevitable.”
Lucas said something low, under his breath. If Veronica heard him, she didn’t give any sign.
“As for my life with Diego, it was different than anything I’d ever known. We traveled extensively. We couldn’t stay in the same place for long. We changed our appearance often. Diego was fascinated with my ability to hear minds, which had stayed with me into vampirehood, and he liked to use me in that capacity to suss out business opportunities or chances for us to drink without suspicion. He still traveled with his brothers now and then, though not frequently. He told them that he had a wife and that we lived in Italy. About twenty years after he’d turned me, he paid a man a great sum of money to report news of his death—and that of his so-called wife—to his brothers. It was necessary, you see, because they were aging and he was not.”
Death Over Easy Page 8