About a Vampire

by Lynsay Sands

  Yeah, he had it bad for Holly. She was quickly becoming the focus of his life, the only thing he could see clearly. He just worried she would never allow herself to feel the same for him. That she would stick doggedly to her marriage vows and sacrifice all that they could be together.

  Sighing, Justin pulled himself out of the water and sat on the edge of the pool to dry.

  Fourteen

  Holly set her toothbrush on the side of the sink and quickly rinsed her mouth, then stepped out into the bedroom, only to pause and eye the bed warily. If this was the Garden of Eden, that bed was her snake. Well, okay, not the bed, but the dreams she might have in it. They were temptation incarnate . . . and as she’d feared, they had made her look at Justin differently today. Recalling the feel of Dream Justin’s hands and lips on her body and the excitement and passion she’d felt with him, she’d found herself staring at his hands and mouth that day, and wondering if they could give the same pleasure to her waking body. She’d also found herself paying undue attention to his physique in his tight clothes. Dream Justin had nothing on the real Justin’s body.

  Where James was wiry with the slightest paunch, Justin was built like a man who lifted weights. Not with big brawny muscles like Dante and Tomasso, but with muscle and definition.

  Holly grimaced guiltily at comparing her husband to Justin in her head. It wasn’t fair. Aside from that, she’d never seen Justin even near a weight. She suspected his perfect form was thanks to the nanos. James didn’t have that advantage.

  Sighing, she walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. But she didn’t lie down right away . . . mostly because she wanted to. She wanted to throw herself under the covers, close her eyes, and sink into sleep in the hopes that she had more of those amazing erotic dreams about Justin. And there lay the problem. Her enjoyment of and desire to have those dreams made her feel as guilty as hell.

  Shaking her head, Holly peered around the room. She had no idea where these dreams were coming from. She hadn’t thought she was that attracted to the man before them. Well, okay, not before the kiss, really. That kiss in the kitchen had been the first temptation she’d encountered with the man. He really knew his business in that area. But that wasn’t the point, the point was Holly didn’t want to be attracted to Justin, and if she went to sleep and had more dreams, would her attraction to him grow? Because she didn’t want that either. Although she had enjoyed the dreams themselves, which was making her crazy with guilt.

  Realizing she’d gone full circle, Holly cursed and picked up the bedside phone to dial the one person she had always gone to for advice . . . James’s mother.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom?” Holly breathed with confusion, sure she’d dialed James’s parents’ number.

  “Holly,” her mother said happily. “James told us all about your internship in New York.”

  “Oh, God,” Holly muttered, and then grimaced. “I’m sorry. I should have called and—­”

  “Don’t be silly. James told us it was all very sudden. I’m sure it was all a whirlwind affair. We’re very proud of you, darling.”

  “Thanks,” Holly muttered, wishing she hadn’t used the term affair, and wondering what her mother would think if she knew the truth of things. “What are you doing at the Bosleys?”

  “Well, right now I’m helping Joyce pack. You know how useless she is at it,” she said with a laugh. “We’re staying here tonight because it’s closer to the airport. We’re all flying out on our own little adventure tomorrow.”

  “Are you? What’s up?” Holly asked.

  “They’ve dug up some seven-­hundred-­year-­old latrines in Denmark. The poop still stinks apparently!” she said with delight. “Your father wants to . . .”

  Holly stared at the wall, listening to what sounded like blah, blah, blah to her. She’d sort of cut out after the first part. Really, only her parents could get excited about seven-­hundred-­year-­old poop.

  “Anyway, you don’t want to hear about this,” her mother said suddenly. “And I’m really a bit crushed here, so if you called for a reason, darling . . .”

  “Get to it?” Holly suggested wryly, quite used to getting the bum’s rush. She suspected if she hadn’t been “accidentally” conceived, her parents wouldn’t have had any children at all. It wasn’t that they were horrible ­people, it was just that their careers filled up so much of their thoughts and time, there really wasn’t room for anything else.

  “Yes, dear,” her mother said unapologetically.

  “Actually, I was calling Mrs. Bosley,” Holly said after a hesitation. “I wanted her opinion on something.”

  “And you called Joyce instead of your own mother?”

  Holly grimaced, thinking, here comes the guilt trip. While her parents didn’t have a lot of time for her, they did want to think they were good parents.

  “Mom, it’s kind of an ethical question type thing, so I didn’t think you’d be interested,” she said soothingly.

  “Well, I am,” her mother said firmly. “Spill, and do it quickly. I really am busy.”

  Holly sighed, but then decided maybe she didn’t want to ask this particular question of James’s mother anyway and just went with it. “Fine. Is having wet dreams about a man other than your husband like cheating on him?”

  “What?” she asked with amazement and then burst out laughing. “Of course not, darling. It’s not like you actually did the dirty, it’s just a dream. Saying it’s wrong or bad is . . . well, really, they can’t arrest you for dreaming about robbing a bank, can they? They can’t even arrest you for thinking about it. Heck, I’ve had loads of wet dreams about men who weren’t your father. It’s normal,” she assured her. “Besides, dreams are just your subconscious mind’s way of working out issues you have. Perhaps you find this man attractive. Or, perhaps you just wish James was more like him. Whatever the case, just relax and enjoy them. I know I do.” She gave a chuckle that sounded decidedly dirty and Holly closed her eyes. She really could have done without knowing her mother ever had wet dreams, let alone loads of them about other men. Really.

  “Now,” her mother said sounding businesslike. “If we’ve handled your little situation, I really need to get back to helping Joyce. Bye, darling.”

  Holly heard the click and listened to the dial tone for a moment, then slowly hung up on her end. She then sat for a moment, trying not to resent the fact that her mother hadn’t even waited to see if they had indeed handled her “little situation.” The woman was . . . well, she was who she was, and whining about it and wishing she’d had a mother more like Joyce or Matild really wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

  Shaking her head, Holly slid under the covers and reached out to turn off the lamp. It seemed she could go gently into sleep and enjoy her dreams without guilt. It was just her subconscious working out her issues.

  At least they weren’t slasher nightmares, she thought and smiled faintly as she closed her eyes.

  “Her.”

  Holly shifted in her seat to peer across the food court at the woman Justin had gestured to, a middle-­aged woman pushing a baby carriage. She was to be her first read. Well, her first mortal one. She’d been working with Dante and Tomasso for the past two days to learn to read. Now Justin had brought her out to the mall to see if she could translate what she’d learned to real situations.

  Swallowing nervously, she concentrated on the woman. For a moment, she was afraid that all her work had been for nothing, she wasn’t picking up a single thing. But then suddenly it was as if a door opened. “Her name is Melanie Jones. The baby is her granddaughter.”

  “Good,” Justin said. “Now him.”

  He was pointing at an elderly man with a cane just sitting down at a table on the other side of the food court. Holly turned her concentration to him, a slow smile blooming on her face. “He’s a retired bus driver. His wife died recently. He co
mes here to avoid feeling lonely.”

  “Her,” Justin shot out and she turned her gaze to a harried looking woman, rushing into a yogurt store.

  “A businesswoman on her lunch. Linda Jenk—­”

  “Her.”

  Holly blinked and shifted her attention to the teenager he was now pointing to. Her eyes widened incredulously. The kid looked like she was twelve, but . . . “She’s a drug dealer,” she said with amazement. “She’s here to meet a kid from her science class to—­”

  “Him,” Justin said and Holly automatically shifted her attention again, and again, and again. Justin shot out “him” or “her” like bullets, one after the other for the rest of the afternoon. By the time he called it quits and led her back out to the SUV, Holly was exhausted, and her head was pounding. She was sure she would also be proud of herself, except that she was too busy feeling extremely confused. It was the way Justin was acting.

  Actually, it was the way Justin had been acting for the past ­couple of days, she acknowledged. This was the first time she’d seen him since they’d gone to visit his parents. That in itself had seemed strange to her. What had seemed stranger was that she had not only noticed, but she’d kind of missed him. Holly blamed it on the dreams. After that first night, the dreams were no longer all about sex. Yes, there was sex, but there was so much more . . . In a way, the dreams had turned into something like dating. They’d gone bowling, laughing and joking as they’d competed against each other, although neither of them had won in the end; they’d gotten distracted halfway through the game and ended up making love against the ball return. In another dream he’d taken her to an amusement park. They’d ridden the rides, he’d won her a stuffed animal, and then they’d finished off the evening by having sex on the roller coaster. In last night’s dreams they’d gone to a water park, a zoo, and then Paris, where they’d made love under the Arc de Triomphe.

  Okay, it always ended in sex, Holly acknowledged, but Dream Justin was charming and funny and sweet and an amazing lover, and Holly very much feared she was starting to confuse him with the real Justin. And that made her wonder why he was never around anymore when she was awake. It was unexpected, especially since he had said he was supposed to oversee her training. Instead of Justin being there, Dante and Tomasso had taken over her training the last ­couple of days . . . and she’d found herself missing Justin, wondering where he was, what he was doing, and why he wasn’t training her as he was supposed to be doing.

  Holly was trying to figure out how to ask him that, when Justin pulled into the driveway of Jackie and Vincent’s house.

  “You must be exhausted,” he commented as they pulled into the garage. Putting the car in park, he shut down the engine and opened his door, saying, “Go get some rest. Tonight we hit the nightclubs so you can practice controlling minds and feeding.”

  With that he got out of the car and disappeared into the house. Holly stared at the door he closed behind him and then blew her breath out on a sigh as she got out as well. The man had just walked away. It was like he was avoiding her . . . and for some reason, that really bothered her.

  “You are an idiot, Holly Bosley,” she muttered to herself as she entered the house. “A big stupid dummy of an idiot.”

  “No, you’re not, piccola,” Gia’s voice drew her attention to where the woman sat at the kitchen table, a book in hand. “Why would you even say that?”

  “No reason,” Holly said quickly as she closed the door to the garage. Noticing the way Gia was now focusing on her and recognizing that it meant the woman was reading her, she tried to distract her. “We’re going to the nightclub tonight to practice feeding. Are you coming?”

  Gia hesitated, but then raised her eyebrows. “Have you even tried yet to control anyone?”

  “No,” Holly admitted worriedly. “Isn’t it like reading minds?”

  Gia clucked her tongue and stood to move to the phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Holly asked curiously as she watched Gia run her finger down a list of numbers stuck to the side of the refrigerator and then begin punching numbers into the phone.

  “I’m ordering pizza to be delivered,” Gia announced, placing the receiver to her ear. Grinning, she added, “The boys can eat the pizzas and you can eat the driver.”

  “Er . . . I think you mean feed on the driver,” Holly said on a little laugh.

  “Feed . . . eat . . .” Gia shrugged. “Is the same thing.”

  Holly didn’t argue with her, but moved to the table to sit down while she waited. In the next moment the woman was giving her order to someone on the other end of the line.

  “So . . .” she asked nervously as Gia hung up. “Is controlling someone like reading their mind? I mean, do I just slip into their thoughts and take control?”

  “Si. Is easy,” Gia assured her moving to join her at the table. “Find the thoughts and then put yours in.”

  Holly nodded, but was now biting her lips nervously.

  “With the first delivery, we will just have you control them I think,” Gia announced, eyeing her consideringly. “Maybe make them do something they would not normally do, like clap their hands. You are too nervous for more than that.”

  “The first delivery?” Holly asked uncertainly.

  “Hmm.” She nodded. “We will order Chinese next and you can make that delivery person do something else.”

  “Oh,” Holly said faintly.

  “Relax, piccola,” Gia said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You will do fine. And I am here to make sure all is well, si?”

  “Si,” Holly breathed, but it didn’t ease her nervousness much.

  Justin opened his eyes and stared at the sunlight coming through his windows with confusion. The sun had been setting when he’d lain down to sleep after getting back from the mall. He’d set his alarm clock for nine that night, intending to get up and take Holly to a nightclub so she could practice controlling and feeding on mortals. Sunlight should not be coming through his windows.

  Turning his head, he peered at the bedside clock and frowned. It read 6:30 A.M. Cursing, he tossed the sheets and blankets aside and leapt out of bed. He was wide awake now, completely rested for the first time in days, at least since he’d started having shared dreams with Holly. While the shared dreams were amazing and awesome, they weren’t exactly restful and he’d been waking up most days almost as tired as when he went to bed. Now, though, he wasn’t . . . because he’d slept a deep, dreamless sleep and for a good twelve hours, apparently.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, crossing to the bedroom door and rushing out into the hall, nearly crashing into Gia.

  “Whoa,” the petite woman said on a laugh, catching at his arms, either to steady herself or him. “Slow down. You will tumble down the stairs racing around like that.”

  “Where’s Holly?” Justin asked as she released him and stepped back.

  “She just went to her room to get ready for bed,” Gia told him, and then arched an eyebrow and pointed out, “It’s dawn.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said with irritation.

  “Holly said you were going to take her to a nightclub to test her ability to control and feed. She waited all night, but you never came down,” Gia said accusingly.

  “I was napping,” he muttered, and then sighed and ran a hand through his sleep-­ruffled hair. It was probably standing on end, he thought distractedly, and then noting Gia’s arched eyebrows, said quickly, “I set the alarm on my bedside table before I laid down, but my alarm didn’t go off.” Scowling now, he asked, “Why didn’t someone wake me up?”

  “At first we were busy,” Gia said mildly. “And when we realized what time it was, it was too late to go to the clubs anyway, so . . .” She shrugged, apparently the Italian’s answer to everything. Moving around him, she added, “We can go to the clubs tonight so you can test her. Is busier on Fridays anyway.”


  Justin turned to watch her walk to her door. Once there, she paused and glanced back with a smile. “She will do well. We were practicing most of the night.”

  “Practicing?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Si. At least until the pizza places closed,” she added, and then merely smiled at his confused expression, and said, “Buona notte, bello.”

  “It’s morning now, not night,” Justin muttered, but she’d already slipped into her room and was closing the door.

  Shaking his head, Justin turned and continued downstairs. He needed a drink. His mouth was as dry as a desert. Then he’d go back to bed and sleep and have those shared dreams with Holly that he’d expected to have when he’d lain down to nap. It was why he’d told her to rest. After an entire afternoon at the mall with her, feeling the heat of her body next to his, her delicate vanilla scent filling his head, but being unable to touch her or behave as he wanted to around her, all Justin had been able to think of was getting her back to the house. He’d planned for both of them to lie down for a nap so that they could have shared dreams. There at least, he could do all the things he’d been imagining as he’d sat across from her at the mall pointing out ­people for her to read.

  Instead, she’d apparently stayed up with Gia while he’d actually slept. Some ­people might have been happy to get such a long and deep sleep after a week of exhausting dreams. He wasn’t. He’d looked forward to those dreams. They were the only thing that had kept him sane during the three days of not seeing her while she worked with Dante and Tomasso.

  Now she was going to sleep and he was up. But not for long, Justin decided as he reached the bottom of the stairs and started up the hall toward the kitchen. He’d grab a drink and then head right back upstairs to bed and force himself to go to sleep. He’d kept imagining making love to her in the middle of the food court on the table, and he could do that in their dreams . . . and Justin fully intended to—­