Twice Bitten: An Argeneau Novel

by Lynsay Sands

  “I presume you at least took control of the police and ensured they didn’t remember you?” Martine asked as she picked up the wireless phone on Elspeth’s bedside table and punched in numbers.

  “Of course, Mother,” Elspeth said with exasperation.

  “Do not ‘of course, Mother’ me. You did not ensure the madman was handled. How am I to know you did not leave the police with their memories too?” she asked sharply.

  “Because I’m not an idiot,” Elspeth said resentfully, but her mother wasn’t listening. Mortimer had apparently answered.

  After gesturing sternly at the blood bags on the mattress next to her, Martine moved away to explain the situation to Mortimer.

  Elspeth grabbed another bag and popped it to her fangs with relief. She should have headed to the refrigerator and taken in blood the minute she arrived home the first time. In fact, seeking out her bed instead had been incredibly stupid. If her sisters hadn’t already been occupying it, and she’d simply have flopped on the bed and passed out . . . Well, she wouldn’t have died, but she would have woken up in horrible pain later.

  Elspeth could only think that shock from her injuries was the reason she hadn’t gone for the fridge when she first got home.

  But it had been anxiety and a shot of adrenaline that’d had her racing down to her landlady’s door the moment she heard that a man had let her mother and sisters into her apartment, she acknowledged as she tugged the empty bag off her fangs and slapped a fresh one to it. She’d feared the worst for Meredith. That either the woman had suffered a heart attack or stroke and a friend or family member had been in the apartment gathering things for her, or that someone had broken in and, having tied up Meredith, had pretended to be the landlord when her mother and sisters had knocked.

  Finding Meredith’s grandson there had been something of a surprise, but not as surprising as how ridiculously attractive the man was. The pictures Meredith had of Wyatt and his parents were somewhat old. In them, Wyatt hadn’t been any older than fourteen or fifteen. He’d been attractive even then, but in more of a cute way, rather than the sexy-virile-well-built-stud way he was now.

  “I realize you did not know, Mortimer,” Martine growled as Elspeth switched the now empty bag at her mouth for another full one. “That is not the point. She cannot be allowed to go out on calls. She is not a hunter.”

  Elspeth rolled her eyes. She was one hundred forty-two years old and her mother still felt she had the right to interfere in her life.

  “What do you mean, how are you supposed to stop her when you did not know she was doing it in the first place? Order her not to.”

  Elspeth snorted at the suggestion. That wasn’t going to work. She was a volunteer. Mortimer wasn’t her boss. Besides, compared to her mother, he was a pussycat. She wasn’t the least afraid of him. She’d still check out soft calls if they were near enough. She just wouldn’t get caught the next time. What were the chances she’d get stabbed again?

  No, Elspeth thought as she switched out for the last bag, her mistake here had been letting her guard down once she was assured she was dealing with mortals. She’d know better next time . . . and there would be a next time, because she had every intention of continuing to help out by checking nearby soft calls on the way home.

  Feeling a slight ruffling in her thoughts, Elspeth stiffened, her gaze shooting to her mother. As she’d feared, the woman was staring at her, eyes narrowed, a look of concentration on her face. Dammit! She was reading her mind, Elspeth realized, and immediately began reciting “Mary Had a Little Lamb” in her head.

  “Too late,” Martine growled, and turned her attention to the phone again, saying, “Fine. Mortimer, since Elspeth won’t listen to you or me, you have yourself one more hunter. I shall be working with Elspeth from now on. Wherever she goes, I go.”

  Ah, crap, Elspeth thought and dropped back on the bed

  “What do you think, dear?”

  Wyatt nodded absently at his grandmother’s question, but his attention was already split between the dishes he was rinsing and his thoughts, and he didn’t really catch what she’d said. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Elspeth. He couldn’t believe he’d found her again. Even more amazing was the fact that she didn’t seem to even remember him. Had their encounter four years ago meant so little to her? It had been life-altering for him. He’d searched for her for months after that first meeting, and while he hadn’t been able to find her, he’d never been able to forget her either.

  “Wyatt?”

  His grandmother’s sharp voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced around in question.

  “I said, I’m thinking of inviting Ellie and her family to dinner tonight,” she told him, her voice a touch dry. “What do you think?”

  “Sounds good,” he said at once and turned back to the dishes, his eyebrows drawing together as he tried to recall when Elspeth and her mother had left. He had a vague recollection that El had been tired and they’d left to allow him and his grandmother to visit. But that’s all. He had no memory of walking them out, which he definitely would have done. He’d been raised to perform such niceties, but it also would have allowed him to ensure the door was locked behind them.

  That thought made him pause. After the barest hesitation, he set the teacup he’d been rinsing into the sink and turned off the tap. Drying his hands on the dish towel slung over his shoulder, he headed out of the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” his grandmother asked with surprise.

  “I just want to be sure the door is locked,” Wyatt explained as he started up the hall.

  “Oh, I’m sure it is,” Meredith said, following him. “Ellie is always fretting about that, insisting I lock the door behind her, or locking it herself. She—Oh,” she ended weakly as he reached the door, saw it was unlocked, and locked it. “How strange. She always fusses about that. She really must have been tired. I hope she isn’t coming down with something. She was very pale this morning.”

  Wyatt turned back to see that his grandmother was frowning as she turned into the kitchen. Swinging back to the door, he tried the knob just to be sure the lock had caught, and then followed her, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “Gran?” Wyatt moved up next to where she was finishing up the teacups. She’d insisted they were too delicate for the dishwasher and had to be hand-washed.

  “Yes, dear?” she murmured, concentrating on what she was doing.

  “El knocked and then let herself in before I could get to the door,” he said slowly.

  “Yes. She has a key,” his grandmother said easily.

  “A key?” he asked.

  “Yes, dear. It’s a little metal thing that opens locks,” she explained lightly.

  “I know what a key is,” Wyatt said with exasperation. “But why does she have one?”

  “Why, so that she can unlock the door, of course,” she said with amusement.

  “But Gran, you barely know her. You said yourself she’s lived here less than two months.”

  “I may not have known her long, but I know her well. She’s a dear girl. Completely dependable. I trust her.”

  “You trusted Madeleine too,” he pointed out, and immediately felt bad when he saw her flinch at the reminder. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust El. At least, Wyatt wanted to trust her. But she had promised to meet him and then hadn’t, and now he found her ensconced in one of his grandmother’s apartments, yet acting as if she’d never even met him.

  “Madeleine fooled me,” Meredith acknowledged now. “But Ellie is not Madeleine.”

  “No, I’m sure she’s not,” he said soothingly, even though he wasn’t at all sure that was true. “Still, don’t you think that you should take what you learned from Madeleine and perhaps be a little more cautious with people?”

  His grandmother was silent for so long, Wyatt began to think she wasn’t going to respond, but then she turned and peered at him solemnly. “Wyatt, if you go through life suspecting everyone, you
will never know who might be trustworthy.”

  “And if you go through life trusting everyone, you’re going to be robbed blind,” he countered at once.

  Meredith’s mouth tightened with displeasure. “I don’t trust everyone.”

  “Gran, you made a mistake trusting Madeleine and now have given Ellie a key after—How long has she had a key?”

  “Two weeks,” Meredith said stiffly.

  “One month, then. You gave her a key after knowing her only a month. Don’t you think that’s a bit risky?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said resentfully.

  “Next you’ll be giving her your banking information like you did Madeleine,” he said with a frown, worried now that his father might be right and his grandmother had reached that age when she needed help taking care of herself. Maybe a seniors’ home was a good idea.

  “I’m not an old fool, Wyatt,” Meredith snapped impatiently. “I knew Madeleine for eight months before I trusted her with my accounts and such, and she gave me no reason to worry about what she might do. Yes, I was wrong,” she added quickly when he opened his mouth to comment, “but I know I’m not wrong this time. Ellie works with the police. She is also the one who discovered what Madeleine was doing, put an end to it, and made her pay me back. Ellie’s a very trustworthy and responsible young woman, and she’s my friend.” Eyeing him sternly, she added, “And you will be nice to her while you are here, or you will be invited to leave.”

  Wyatt’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened incredulously. He was her grandson, for God’s sake, and Ellie was nearly a stranger . . . at least, to her. Really, Elspeth was a stranger to him now too, though he’d thought once that he knew her well.

  “And I will not be moving into an old folks’ home.”

  Wyatt snapped his jaw shut, and avoided her eyes guiltily. “Who said anything about an old folks’ home?”

  “Didn’t I mention that I’m not an old fool?” she asked with some asperity. “I haven’t seen you for years. Ever since joining the army, you’ve been too busy to visit, and then this Madeleine business happens and suddenly you arrive as a surprise to see me?” She snorted. “Not likely. Your father sent you to make sure I wasn’t giving away his inheritance and to see if you couldn’t shuffle me into a home.”

  “Now, Gran—”

  “Who told him about Madeleine?” she asked abruptly. “Oscar?”

  Wyatt grimaced. It had been Uncle Oscar. Wyatt didn’t say so. At least not verbally, but apparently his expression said it for him.

  “I knew it,” she said with disgust. “I told Violet, and she would have run right home and told him. True to form, he then tattled to your father.” She turned back to the sink, muttering, “I don’t know why my sister ever married that man. Or why she has to tell him every damned thing I say.”

  “Oscar’s just worried about you, Gran,” Wyatt said wearily. “First you got caught up in that iTunes scam, and then—”

  “I didn’t get caught up in it,” she countered quickly.

  “When Uncle Oscar and Aunt Violet arrived, you were on your way out the door with the phone to your ear, heading to the bank to get out money to—”

  “I wasn’t going to get out money,” she insisted. “I was going to go to the bank and ask them first if the iTunes cards that fellow was talking about were real and if the government did take them in lieu of payment as he suggested. If they said no I would have hung up. I just didn’t know. I don’t use the computer. I have no idea what newfangled things they have out there nowadays, and that man was yelling at me!” she cried, growing increasingly agitated.

  “All right, Gran. It’s all right,” Wyatt said soothingly.

  “No, it’s not. Oscar’s doing his damnedest to convince your father that I’m an incompetent old fool, and it’s working. But it just isn’t so. I don’t need to go into a home. I still have my faculties,” she finished, her face flushed with hectic color and her lips trembling.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. It’s okay.” Wyatt crossed the space between them and hugged her gently. “Everything will be okay.”

  His grandmother sniffled into his chest and shook her head. “No, it won’t. Oscar’s a spiteful old bastard. He wants to get back at me for telling Violet to leave him, and he won’t stop until he succeeds in seeing me into a home.”

  Wyatt’s eyebrows rose. “You told Aunt Violet to leave Uncle Oscar?”

  “Repeatedly,” she said angrily. “The bastard was always cheating on her, but now he’s violent as well and hitting her. I’ve been telling her to leave him for years.”

  Frowning at this news, Wyatt patted her back, but was thinking he’d have to look into Uncle Oscar and Aunt Violet while he was here.

  “Ask Ellie,” his grandmother said suddenly. “She’ll tell you I’m not going senile.”

  “She hardly knows you, Gran,” he said solemnly.

  “She does so,” she insisted. “She has tea with me every morning, and quite often has dinner with me before leaving for work each night too. We spend a lot of time together.”

  Wyatt’s mouth tightened at this news. It just didn’t seem right. What the hell was a young woman like Ellie doing hanging around with an old woman all the time? What was she after?

  “The poor girl has been lonely since moving here. She will make friends eventually, but right now she’s missing her family and her home in England. Well, she was. Now they’re here and I don’t suppose she misses them as much.” A soft chuckle slipping from her lips, she added, “In fact, I suspect she’s probably wishing they’d never come.”

  “Why?” he asked with curiosity.

  “Because her mother is apparently a bit overbearing and tends to interfere in her daughters’ lives. That’s why Ellie moved here from England in the first place, to get away from her. But despite that she, of course, missed her.”

  “Isn’t that kind of contradictory?” he asked, wondering about El’s mother. Elspeth hadn’t said anything to him about that the first time they’d met, but then, she hadn’t talked about her family at all.

  “No,” Meredith said, surprising him. “It’s like any bad relationship. A girl can leave, and know she made the right decision, but still miss parts of that relationship. Nothing is bad twenty-four hours a day. But when the bad outweighs the good, it’s time to go. That doesn’t mean you won’t miss that little bit of good afterward.” Shrugging, she backed out of his hold, and said, “Of course, Elspeth missed the good parts of having a mother, and distance makes the bad stuff fade somewhat, but about now she’s remembering exactly why she moved to another continent.”

  “Hmm,” Wyatt murmured. El’s mother had seemed nice enough to him. Well, except maybe for the fact that she’d come wandering in wearing nothing but a nightgown and robe. That had seemed a little . . . odd.

  “Oh!”

  “What?” Wyatt glanced to his grandmother anxiously at that cry. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m missing my game shows,” she exclaimed and hurried out of the kitchen.

  Wyatt watched her go and then shook his head and sat down at the kitchen table. He was in a hell of a spot here. His grandmother was right. Uncle Oscar did have his father convinced that she needed to be in a home, and he had asked Wyatt to come out, expecting him to arrange that.

  The problem was, Wyatt wasn’t so sure she needed to be in one. Meredith had seemed fine when he’d arrived here yesterday afternoon. They’d had tea and talked, and then he’d taken her out to dinner, and they’d talked some more. Actually, they’d talked most of the evening, and she’d seemed as sharp as ever. Until he’d learned she’d given El a key to her apartment and such. Her trusting a virtual stranger so much so quickly seemed a little iffy.

  And then there was that business of the iTunes scammer. Apparently, several older people had been convinced to buy thousands of dollars in iTunes cards, then read out the code numbers over the phone to people claiming to be tax collectors. They called suggesting that they owed thousands in unpaid taxe
s, and threatening to repossess their homes and such if they didn’t comply. He’d thought it a ridiculous scheme when he’d heard about it, and that anyone taken in by it must be incompetent, but his grandmother’s words had made him think again. She didn’t even own a computer, probably had no idea what iTunes was, and if the man had been yelling and frightening her, she would have been flustered and upset and more likely to at least find out what the bank thought.

  Her claim that Uncle Oscar was just out to get her back for suggesting Aunt Violet leave him troubled Wyatt. He didn’t know the couple well. He hadn’t seen them since his parents had moved him to British Columbia. Actually, he hadn’t seen them much before that. Aunt Violet was his Gran’s sister and they were actually a great-aunt and-uncle, so he’d never been close with them. But from what he recalled, he’d never thought much of Uncle Oscar the few times he had encountered him.

  Standing up, he placed one hand on the back of the chair next to where he’d been sitting. The seat El had occupied when she and her mother were here. He ran his hand along the seat back, his memory drawing up her image again. It had been four years since he’d last seen her, and she’d looked exactly the same today as she had that day in the café. And his feelings on seeing her?

  Wyatt blew out a breath. It hadn’t just been his mind that had recognized her. His body had too, and had responded just as it had all those years ago. If he hadn’t been so shocked to see her standing there, he would have pulled her into his arms and held her hard and tight and never let her go. But shock had stopped him just long enough for her to ask who he was, and then he hadn’t known what to do or how to act with her. He still didn’t. How could she not remember him? Or perhaps the question was, why was she pretending not to remember him? He needed to bide his time and find that out. So, he now had two projects here—settle the business with his grandmother, and find out whether El remembered him or not and why she would claim not to if it was all an act.

  Three