Twice Bitten: An Argeneau Novel

by Lynsay Sands

  Elspeth glanced at the bag in his hand. She’d noticed it, but hadn’t paid it much attention, and had no idea what was in it, except that whatever it held looked pink through the white plastic bag.

  “You’d best go see, Wyatt,” Merry said now with amusement. “He never could stand being stuck in bed when sick. Used to drive his mother crazy. Hopefully a little visit with you will cheer him up some. Meanwhile,” she added, getting to her feet, “I think I’ll go get us all some refreshments. I made chocolate chip cookies this morning. I’ll fetch some back for everyone.”

  “I’ll help,” Lissianna and Rachel said together. They glanced at each other, shrugged, and then both followed Meredith to the door, and Elspeth couldn’t blame them. Wyatt wasn’t the only one getting sick of the room. There was no television or radio for noise, and with so many people in the room, it seemed to get hot in a hurry, which was why they’d left the door open.

  “For me?”

  Elspeth glanced toward the bed at Wyatt’s gleeful question, to see G.G. handing the white bag to him.

  “Yes,” G.G. said with a grin. “I’d have wrapped it, but that just seemed silly.”

  Wyatt chuckled at the claim, and pulled out a bottle of red liquid.

  “It was cold when I left The Night Club, but you might need ice cubes if you want some right away,” G.G. commented, settling in one of the chairs next to the bed.

  “I’ll get a glass and ice cubes,” Elspeth offered, turning toward the door.

  “You’ll sit down and stay here where Sam can watch you,” Alex countered. “I’ll get the glass and ice cubes.”

  “Can you make it three please, Alex? Or . . .” He hesitated and then sighed, and said reluctantly, “I guess you should get glasses for everyone.”

  Alex snorted at the suggestion. “I know how hard that stuff is to get up here. Three glasses will do. Besides, as I recall, it was just okay to me as a kid.”

  “Same here,” Sam said.

  “Sacrilege!” G.G. said teasingly.

  “Just get two glasses,” Elspeth said before Alex slipped from the room. “I’m good.”

  “Okay,” she said before disappearing into the hall.

  “Tahitian Treat,” Wyatt murmured, turning the bottle in his hand. “G.G., I think you’re my new best bud.”

  “Good,” he said with amusement. “It will be nice to be able to talk to a mortal who knows about immortals, but can still hang out in the daytime when I’m not working.”

  “Oh dear,” Elspeth murmured, her gaze sliding to Wyatt.

  G.G. narrowed his eyes and glanced from her to Wyatt. “What?”

  Wyatt hesitated, and then raised his eyebrows at her. “Can I tell him?”

  Elspeth nodded. There was no reason not to. G.G. was in the know already when it came to immortals, and Meredith wasn’t there to hear.

  Sam immediately stood and moved toward the door. “I’ll watch the hall and warn you if Merry returns sooner than expected.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” Elspeth murmured.

  “Tell me what?” G.G. asked.

  “I’m not mortal anymore,” Wyatt admitted apologetically.

  G.G. glanced down to his feet and then back to his face. “But you’re all bandaged up,” he pointed out. “And I was told you wouldn’t be walking for three or four weeks, if then.”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt grimaced. “Well, that was before a dozen Boston cream doughnuts were shot full of cyanide poison and somehow slipped into the house. The twins and I ate them and while they were okay, I was nearly killed. Elspeth was forced to turn me to save me.”

  “Poisoned doughnuts?” G.G. asked with dismay. “Cyanide?”

  Wyatt nodded solemnly.

  “Damn,” G.G. breathed, and then frowned and shook his head. “Then why are you in bed with your feet still bandaged up?”

  “Because Gran doesn’t know about immortals and we can’t tell her, but there’s no way to explain my feet healing so quickly without explaining about immortals.” Wyatt grimaced. “I’m stuck in bed for three weeks, healed or not.”

  “Right,” G.G. shook his head. “You guys sure lead an exciting life. Stabbed, pushed into traffic, firebombed, and then cyanide poisoning. What’s next? An elephant stampede, or getting shot with a bazooka?”

  “Neither, I hope,” Wyatt said with disgust, and then frowned at the bottle he held. Heaving a sigh, he held it out to the giant. “I suppose I should give this back. You thought I was still sick when you decided to give it to me.”

  G.G. waved the bottle away. “It’s all good. You were burned, and you’re still suffering, so . . .” He shrugged. “You earned it. Especially if you’ve gone through the turn,” he added solemnly. “I was there when my mother went through it. Nasty business. Looked excruciating.”

  “I don’t remember any of it,” Wyatt admitted. “Not the pain anyway. I do remember some pretty horrible nightmares though.”

  “Yeah, my mom had those too,” G.G. said, and then frowned and glanced around. “Is it me, or is it hot in here?”

  “Stifling,” Elspeth assured him. “I think it’s because we’ve had so many people in here all day.”

  “Lissianna and your other bodyguards?” he asked with amusement.

  “Heard about that too. Did you?” she asked wryly.

  “Customers talk,” he said with a shrug, and then turned to Wyatt and said, “Why don’t I carry you downstairs? You can get out of this room and get some fresh air for a bit. I’ll bring you back up before I leave.”

  “Why don’t I walk down and we can tell Gran you carried me when she asks,” Wyatt countered.

  “Deal,” G.G. said with a chuckle.

  Wyatt was out of the bed so fast, Elspeth was surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash.

  “Here we are!”

  Elspeth glanced toward the door at Meredith’s caroled words to see the woman leading Lissianna and Rachel into the living room. Both women carried trays—one with cookies and plates, the other with a carafe of coffee, a pot of tea, milk, sugar, and cups.

  Merry beamed at them all as she entered. Elspeth smiled back from where she sat beside Wyatt. He was settled on the couch with his bandaged feet up on the coffee table, a smile on his face, and a cold glass of that Tahiti drink in his hands. He’d offered her a sip, and Elspeth had thought it quite nice, but had refrained from accepting a glass herself. He obviously loved the stuff, and it was apparently hard to get. She wasn’t going to drink it on him.

  “Thank you, G.G., for carrying Wyatt down here,” Merry said as she settled into the chair opposite his. “I’m sure it will perk him up. In fact, he already has more color in his cheeks.”

  “I feel better,” Wyatt announced with a grin, and Elspeth bit her lip to keep from laughing. The color was from his literally running out of the bedroom, up the hall, down the stairs, and straight into the living room. He’d made the dash the minute G.G. had got to the stairs and gave him the sign that it was clear and he should move now.

  “Good,” Merry said firmly as Lissianna and Rachel set the trays on the coffee table. “Now, who wants what? We brought both tea and coffee to go with my chocolate chip cookies.”

  Everyone but Wyatt converged on the trays, taking a plate and grabbing one or two cookies, and then choosing their drink. Elspeth got Wyatt two cookies, as well as one for herself, but he shook his head when it came to a drink. He had his Tahitian Treat.

  Elspeth had just settled next to him again when they heard a vehicle coming up the driveway. She started to get up again, to see who it was, but Sam waved her back down.

  “Stay put and definitely stay away from the windows,” Wyatt said quietly next to her, and she noticed the sudden tension in his body as he kicked into bodyguard mode.

  “A problem?” G.G. asked Sam, his own body tensing.

  Sam was silent for a minute as she swished the curtain aside and looked out, but then smiled and shook her head. “It’s Donny with those boxes I mentioned.”

  “Boxe
s?” Merry asked, perking up. “The ones from the house?”

  “Yes.” Sam turned to smile at her. “Mortimer sent Donny out to gather them and anything else salvageable and bring them to you here so you could go through it.”

  “Oh.” Meredith smiled. “That was nice of your Mortimer. You’ve got a good man there, Sam. I know how busy he is and how much he needs every man. It was kind of him to do without Donny for this.”

  “Yeah. He’s a good guy.” Sam smiled softly, and then headed out of the room. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I think I’ll see if I can help them unload,” G.G. said, getting up.

  “Me too.” Alex followed him. The pair had barely seemed to leave the room before Sam was returning with Donny on her heels, each of them carrying three boxes stacked on one another. Sam led him to the coffee table and set her boxes down on the floor beside it.

  “Cookies.” Donny’s eyes lit up as he set his own boxes next to Sam’s and noticed the plate of goodies on the table.

  “After we finish unloading,” Sam said firmly, heading out of the room even as Alex and G.G. entered with boxes of their own.

  “My goodness, I didn’t know I had so much in the basement,” Merry said, her wide eyes on the boxes as they began to stack up.

  “Some of the boxes are stuff I found on the main floor and upstairs that was still good,” Donny announced as he returned with another load. “All your dishes and pots and pans were fine, but Julius said I should remove them so they didn’t get broken during the renovations. And there were some pictures on the walls that survived, although a lot didn’t. I labeled the boxes I packed.”

  “Oh, thank you, Donald,” Merry said. “That was so kind of you.”

  Donny flushed at the compliment as he set down his boxes, and then hurried back out for more.

  “Maybe we should move the boxes with dishes and pots and pans down to the basement. They can be stored there until the house is ready,” Lissianna said, standing up. “We’re getting quite a collection here.”

  “Good idea.” Elspeth stood even as Rachel did and they began to separate the boxes. Alex, G.G., Sam, and Donny all helped once they’d finished bringing the boxes in, and they soon had most of the boxes moved downstairs. That still left ten unlabeled boxes by the table though.

  “Well, let’s all take a box and see what’s in them,” Wyatt suggested, sitting up on the couch.

  Elspeth grabbed one and carried it to him, and then grabbed Merry one too before settling back on the couch with a third one and opening the box.

  “It looks like I have bills here,” Elspeth said as she pulled the lid off her box, and rifled through the hydro bills, gas bills, and whatnot inside. Noting the date April 1995 on one, she added, “Really old bills.”

  “Oh, yes, Barry—my husband,” Meredith explained with a smile. “He used to keep the bills for . . . well, I’m not sure why. In case of an audit or something. We had boxes and boxes of them in the storage area when he died. I thought I’d got rid of them all, but I guess I missed one.”

  “So . . . to the dump?” Elspeth asked gently.

  “Yes, dear,” Merry murmured, pulling the lid off of the box she’d given her.

  Elspeth set her box by the door and picked up the last box that had remained after they’d each picked one.

  “I’m not sure what I have,” Alex said, and Elspeth glanced over to see her frowning down into the large box she held. As she watched, the woman reached in with both hands and lifted out a plastic-wrapped and obviously vacuum-sealed white something or other.

  “My wedding dress,” Meredith breathed, tears filling her eyes.

  “The basement for storage until the house is ready?” Alex suggested gently, and Merry nodded, a smile trembling on her lips.

  “All I have here are books,” Lissianna announced, rifling through her box.

  “Oh, probably just novels I read and boxed up, intending to put in the yard sale I never had,” Meredith said with a smile.

  “Actually, they look like university text books on . . . chemistry and . . . pharmacology,” Lissianna said, reading the titles on a couple of the books.

  “Really?” Meredith asked with surprise. “Why I can’t imagine where—Oh!” she said suddenly. “Those must be Madeleine’s books.”

  “Madeleine’s?” Elspeth asked with surprise.

  “Yes, her son went to university for a while. He wanted to be a pharmacologist. Apparently, he quit after a couple of years though,” Meredith told them. “I imagine those were down in her storage area in the basement. I must have forgotten to mention that area to her son.”

  “Madeleine has a son?” Elspeth asked with surprise. She’d not read anything about a son from the woman’s mind.

  “Yes, dear. He’s the one who came to gather her furniture and other things from the apartment after Madeleine left.”

  Elspeth stared at her blankly. She’d never even thought to wonder who had collected Madeleine’s things.

  Meredith clucked her tongue. “I should have remembered to tell him about the storage area. I can’t believe I forgot.” She shook her head. “I guess I’ll have to find his number again and call to have him come get his mother’s boxes . . . if he wants them.”

  “El?”

  Elspeth glanced toward G.G. in surprise. It seemed everyone was going to call her El now. “Yes?”

  “I’ve got pictures in my box,” G.G. announced.

  “Oh, lovely!” Meredith said at once, and stood to move to his side.

  Elspeth watched with concern as the woman began to maneuver her way around the boxes, but then glanced back to G.G. when he began to whistle. She’d never heard him whistle before, but then, she hadn’t spent all that much time with him, she acknowledged. The tune sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

  “That’s ‘If You Could Read My Mind,’” Meredith cried suddenly as she reached him. “Oh, G.G., you have lovely taste in music. I adore Gordon Lightfoot.”

  Elspeth’s eyes widened, and she immediately concentrated on the man, searching for his thoughts. G.G. was thinking one thing over and over again. “This is the man who pushed you into traffic. This is the man who pushed you into traffic.”

  “Oh my God,” Sam gasped, jumping to her feet, obviously reading G.G.’s mind as well.

  “Did you find something exciting, dear?” Meredith asked, turning to her with interest.

  “No. I—”

  “El? What did he find?” Wyatt growled beside her, obviously having caught G.G.’s message in the tune, but unable to read his mind yet. It would take him time and practice to gain that skill.

  “An important picture,” she said, standing up to move to G.G.’s side.

  “Oh,” Merry said with disappointment as she peered back at the picture G.G. was holding. “Those are Madeleine’s pictures, not mine. That’s her son there in that one. Now, what was his name? Peter? No.”

  Elspeth peered down at the picture G.G. held as everyone but Wyatt got up to gather around them and try to get a look at it. The man was the same height as his mother, about five-foot-seven. He also had the same dark hair, angular face, and slim build. He easily could have fit through Julius’s doggy door . . . if it hadn’t been locked.

  “Bring it here, El. I want to see too,” Wyatt said, his voice tense.

  “George?” Meredith murmured, but shook her head. “Maybe John. No, not John. But I’m sure it was the same as that singer from that band with that dingo fellow.”

  “Ringo?” G.G. asked. “The Beatles?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Madeleine’s son has the same name as their fourth fellow. She told me she had a big crush on him as a girl and so named him after him,” Meredith told them, and then grimaced. “I didn’t think that said much for her feelings for her husband to name their son after—”

  “Paul,” G.G. said.

  “Yes, Paul.” Meredith nodded with satisfaction. “She named him Paul.”

  “El,” Wyatt growled, shifting impa
tiently on the couch.

  “Paul Albrecht,” Elspeth murmured, staring at the face in the picture.

  “Why yes, I guess so. I always forget that Madeleine wasn’t her real name,” Meredith said now. “She was Nina Albrecht, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes,” Elspeth murmured, and took the picture from G.G. to carry it to Wyatt before he blew their pretense and lunged off the couch to get to the picture.

  “Thank you,” he said apologetically as he took the picture. “Sorry for snapping.”

  Elspeth just smiled slightly. He hadn’t really snapped, but she appreciated the apology anyway.

  Wyatt stared at the picture for a moment, and then glanced to G.G. “You’re sure this is him?”

  Elspeth knew he was asking if this was the one who had pushed her in front of the car, and wasn’t at all surprised Wyatt knew this was the culprit behind the attacks. Why else would a picture of Madeleine’s son be important?

  “Yes, dear,” Meredith said with surprise, obviously thinking he was talking to her. “That’s Madeleine’s son, Paul.”

  G.G. didn’t speak. He merely nodded his head while Meredith was staring at her grandson.

  Wyatt blew out his breath and peered back at the picture, murmuring, “Bastard.”

  Elspeth squeezed his shoulder and then glanced to Meredith. “Merry, did you say you have his phone number?”

  “Yes, I do.” She nodded. “Do you think I should call him right away and let him know we found some more of his mother’s things? He lives in Alberta and had to drive all the way out here just to get her furnishings and things. He was quite angry about it I think. At least, he was angry about something. I don’t know if he’ll want them. But maybe we could mail them to him. I’ll offer to do that when I call him.”

  “Meredith, why don’t you give me the phone number and let me take care of that for you?” Sam suggested.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with it. You’ve done so much already, Sam,” Meredith protested.

  Elspeth expected Sam to take control of Merry then and change her mind for her, but she simply said, “Don’t be silly. We’re happy to help. Besides, we have a contract with a local shipper and can send the boxes out for practically nothing.”