Life in Moonlight: The Primigenio Tales: Book 1

by Alison Beightol

  “Amelie de la Puente, my new—”

  “Forgive me,” she said, interrupting him. “I thought that you had a companion.”

  “You mean Lauryl. She’s the reason I’m in Tampa. I’m looking for her.”

  “I’d like to volunteer my services in any way that may be useful to you. I know many people in this city; humans and vampires.”

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  Marta twirled one of her blond tendrils around her finger. “I know you prefer isolation, but if you ever get lonely for the company of our kind, I hope you will come and see me. My home is always open to you.”

  Eamon set his glass down on the table. “Marta, you’re part of me and my line. I can’t imagine staying in Tampa and not seeing you frequently.” In finding her he recovered some of Irina. A small piece of him became whole again.

  “You honor me.”

  “I’ve enjoyed our visit.” He rose and she did the same.

  “It’s been my pleasure,” she replied.

  He turned to walk out but stopped. The reason he was in Tampa swept over him, causing his sense of contentment to fracture. “In all probability, Lauryl is traveling with a man by the name of Anthony Wilson. I don’t know if she’s turned him yet, but I wouldn’t doubt it.” He turned back to her. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

  * * *

  Marta studied the mild distress on his face. “I will.” A gentle sadness for him tugged at her as he walked out. Even though he was with another woman, he remained obsessed with this Lauryl. Perhaps it was their blood bond but it seemed to be more. For someone who that had been a vampire so long he still fell in to the trap of human emotions. He was the oldest living vampire and he seemed lovesick.

  * * *

  Driving back to the house, Eamon called Amelie. She wasn’t at home. He left a brief message for her to call him. The sound of her voice on the voice mail would have to satisfy him. He debated calling her cell phone, but decided against it. It was Friday night and she was out with her friends. It sometimes slipped his mind that she was only twenty-two and had friends. That didn’t help his loneliness. He needed companionship tonight. A psychiatrist would tell him that his loneliness caused him to be depressed. A psychiatrist. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His time wasn’t going to be wasted thinking about Wilson.

  I should have killed him a long time ago, he thought.

  Eamon pulled in to his drive and marched to the front door. The faint sensation of a vampire nearby pricked his interest. He slowed his steps and concentrated on the feeling. It was impossible to tell the exact distance, but this vampire was close. Eamon reached out to the anonymous vampire and hoped it was Lauryl. He turned to the street. A human woman walking her dogs passed on the sidewalk and the vampire’s presence dissipated. He or she had gone. Eamon walked to the door. It was probably a vampire out looking to feed. Tampa had too many vampires.

  He poured himself a drink and stood in front of the floor length living room windows. The lights from the city sparkled on the dark water of Tampa Bay. His life was now more chaotic than it had been in centuries. Here he was in another city that he would never have chosen all because of Lauryl. Again, he pondered the same questions that he’d thought about for months. Why had she been so miserable? How could someone be so inconsolable? He still didn’t understand what specifically about being a vampire was so terrible. Her life had not changed that much. She kept saying that it was him, that he made it miserable. He doubted that. He finished his drink and was about to pour himself another when his phone vibrated. Eamon set the glass down and went into his study.

  “Yes?”

  “Eamon? I received a copy of the bill of sale for the Degas painting today,” Grant said.

  “Really?” What next? he thought.

  “The dealer told me that a man came in two weeks ago. It was Wilson. He was stupid enough to sign his own name.”

  “Get the painting back and send it here!”

  Eamon ended the call and stormed back down the hall to the living room. He picked up his glass and, instead of refilling it, he threw it against the wall, sending shards of crystal across the marble floor. How could she sell the painting like it was some sort of garage sale cast off? Why did she need the money? She still had all of her accounts open. Initially, he considered closing them but decided against it. If he did that, she would probably take her wedding ring to a pawnshop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It’s Not Funny to Me. It’s Ironic.

  The phone vibrating across Eamon’s desk broke the monotony of reading. He had been trying to catch up on his business correspondence since he awakened this afternoon but it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate. So he welcomed this interruption, even if it was from his attorney Grant in New York.

  “Yes, Grant,” Eamon said flatly.

  “You aren’t going to believe this, Eamon,” Grant said.

  Eamon frowned. “Try me.”

  “Lauryl and Wilson are opening a club in Tampa. Some sort of Goth, role-playing, trendy nightclub thing down on Seventh Avenue. I only found out about it today. It’s set to open in a couple of weeks.”

  Eamon held the phone down at his side. Rage boiled in him but he managed to stifle it. He looked over at the Degas painting leaning against the wall and then lifted the phone back up. “I’m guessing that I’m paying for it with the money that they got when that fool sold the Degas.”

  “I’d say so. Five million is enough to start up a club.” He hesitated for a second. “I guess that would explain what she’s been doing all this time.”

  “Or who she has been doing.” Eamon’s mind raced. Whose idea was this? That stupid doctor’s? He probably crossed professional and ethical lines in his head every time he saw Lauryl while she was his patient.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. What’s the name of this club?”

  “Bathory or something like that. They got a great piece of real estate.”

  “Bathory?” Eamon asked and then snickered. A club named for the sadistic, Hungarian countess, Elizabeth Bathory, who history branded a vampire. Actually, she had only been a sociopathic noble with a taste for killing young girls. If the authorities hadn’t stopped her, a real vampire would have. Her escapades made being a real vampire difficult during those times.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Read a book once in a while, Grant,” Eamon snapped and ended the call. “Damn,” he mumbled as he stared at the Degas painting. So they were opening a nightclub where all the pretenders in Tampa could gather and live out their fantasies? Lauryl must be in her glory. This could either bring the world of vampires to its end or an even bigger pop phenomenon. Somehow she’d found the largest niche of vampires in the United States and nestled herself among them and their wannabe minions. To her credit, she found a way to make money at the same time. He dialed Grant’s number and walked into the living room.

  “I know who Elizabeth Bathory is, Eamon. I Googled her. But I don’t know why that’s funny,” Grant said as soon as he answered.

  “It’s not funny, Grant. It’s ironic that someone who supposedly hates being a vampire is opening a business which apparently is going to celebrate it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. You said this place was opening in a few weeks. Find out specifically when. Is she publicly opening this club or is the idiot Wilson doing it?”

  “Both of their names are on the applications. His name first and then hers as a backer and underwriter. They pushed this through quickly, miraculously, almost.”

  “Grant, when was the last time anything with my name even remotely attached to it didn’t happen?”

  “I see your point.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Is she going public?” Eamon asked.

  “That I don’t know. I’ll find out. I can’t imagine Wilson being the public persona but, at the same time, I don’t think she would either. She’s sti
ll avoiding you.”

  “Obviously since she isn’t here with me. All I want to know is if she plans to be there for the opening. I can’t imagine her missing it. She’d go to the opening of a door if she thought it was in her honor.”

  “Like I said I’ll find out. I’ll find out everything I can and then I’ll touch base with you.”

  “Do that.”

  He tossed the phone on the sofa and sank down into the cushions next to it. It was clear that she wasn’t afraid of angering him or bringing a lot of attention to herself. He leaned his head back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

  As the phantom scent of Amelie’s perfume drifted by, he relaxed. His Amelie. She was what he needed to lift his mood. He needed to feel her warm skin next to his and, most of all, he wanted to taste her blood. That was on hold, though. He felt a lingering uneasiness about telling her the truth about him. He didn’t even want to feed from her because of it. The risk of rejection wasn’t worth being honest. A frown darkened his face. Being a vampire had become complicated since he decided to take a companion.

  It wasn’t like in the past when women were just glamorous meals. Well, some part of that remained. Marta arranged for a steady flow of beautiful and tasty young women for him to feed on in place of hunting. However, he had to do that with even greater discretion because he didn’t want Amelie to think he was cheating on her. These were the perils of human dating. His down phone vibrated across the cushion. Marta.

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “I hate to disturb you, but I have some news.”

  “Would it be that Lauryl and the idiot Wilson are opening a vampire themed night club in Ybor?”

  “So you know?”

  “News travels fast,” Eamon said.

  “Yes, since it became public knowledge, our community has been buzzing. Mostly positive from what I gather.”

  “Has anyone in your circle had any contact with her?”

  “No, she remains invisible. This Dr. Wilson does most everything. They seem to pop into view and then disappear as quickly as they came. I can’t get anyone close to him.”

  “I appreciate all you’ve done, Marta.”

  “Mi amor, the pleasure is mine. Are you staying in tonight or do you have plans?”

  “I think I’m staying home with Amelie.” Staying in together was becoming one of their favorite activities. He enjoyed sitting with her and talking or reading. Lauryl would have thought of that as torture. With her short attention span, she would have been bored in a matter of hours. Not Amelie, though. She would sit and watch him work, asking him questions, or telling him stories about her college years. Or she would sometimes fall asleep in his arms on the sofa. The feeling of her warm body curled against him stirred his hunger. It wasn’t only his hunger for blood that increased as she slept. It was his hunger to feel the love of a companion. The love he didn’t feel with Lauryl and did feel with Amelie.

  “Ah, new love. I’ve forgotten what that’s like. Well, if you change your mind, come and see us.”

  “Thank you, but I think I’ll be content with my plans.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Sometimes I Wonder What You Think of Me

  “What shall we do tonight?” Eamon asked Amelie as he buttoned his shirt. “Aside from what we just did.”

  Amelie stretched under the sheets and propped up on her elbows. “I like doing that.”

  The site of Amelie lounging naked under the sheet brought a hungry smile to his face. He dialed his desire down and leaned down to kiss her. “I do, too, but you’re young and I know that you like to do things in the world beyond our bed.”

  “Seriously, I’m happy just being with you. When I’m with you, I feel…” Her cheeks blushed.

  “What?”

  “I feel safe. It’s weird.” She looked down.

  He sat down on the bed next to her. “Why is that weird?”

  Amelie shrugged. “It sounds strange. I feel protected with you. Like I need to be with you. I know that sounds high school, but it’s true.”

  “High school?”

  “Yeah, you know, like I can’t live without you, life-or-death kind of thing. I swore that I wouldn’t be that way, but I feel that with you.” She looked back up at him. “Despite me trying not to be clingy and needy.”

  “I don’t think you’re clingy or needy. In fact, I think the opposite. I’m being needy with you. That’s not something I’m used to. I sometimes feel that I selfishly control your time and keep you from your friends. But I want to spend time with you.” Eamon touched her cheek. Again, long forgotten human emotions controlled him. With Amelie it was easy. He didn’t have to worry about appearing weak as a vampire in front of her.

  Amelie sat up. “It seems that we need each other. I don’t see anything wrong with that if it’s mutual, right?”

  He rubbed her hand on his cheek and placed a soft kiss on it. “Tell me what you want to do tonight.”

  “We can catch a movie, if you want.”

  He had never been to a movie theater on a date. He had never been to a movie theater, period. The opportunity never presented itself. He had never dated before. Amelie was the first serious dating relationship he’d been in.

  “That’s fine,” he said.

  “Really? You sound kind of unsure.”

  “No, a movie will be a treat.”

  “You sound like it’s going to be your first.”

  “Maybe. Darling, next week there’s a benefit at the Florida Aquarium. I’d like you to come with me.”

  “I’d love to. You don’t seem like an aquarium supporter, though.”

  “What are they like?”

  “I mean, I wouldn’t think that you’d be into a cause like that.”

  Eamon finished his tie. “Sometimes I wonder what you think of me.”

  Amelie got out of bed and pulled her robe from the cheval mirror in the corner. Eamon realized he had walked into the field of the mirror’s reflection and took a few steps away. He hated that mirror.

  “I think the world of you,” she said.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “I’m going to shower and then we’ll go. Pick something for us to see while I’m getting ready.” She kissed him and headed for the bathroom.

  Eamon walked out to the living room and looked through his phone for movie times. He scrolled through, but stopped when he felt the marker of a vampire close to the house. He lowered the phone and walked to the large front window. The street was empty but the presence felt as strong as a vampire standing in front of him. Amelie’s singing in the shower distracted him for a moment but his focus resumed and increased. For a second, he thought it was Lauryl. He closed his eyes and silently called out to her. The marker vanished. His concentration dissolved like the marker when he noticed that the shower was off and Amelie was no longer singing.

  Vampires were everywhere in Tampa, but this was the first time he’d sensed one so close to Amelie’s house. He doubted it was random. Any vampire, even a stupid one, would feel his presence and keep their distance. That convinced him his ambiguous sense of Lauryl was correct. He stared at the vacant street as he tried to reach out to her again. A car passed the house, but he felt nothing.

  “Did you find a movie?” Amelie asked as she came out of the bathroom. She stopped towel-drying her hair when she saw him staring out the window. “What are you looking at?”

  He turned to her and took her hand. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure? You were kind of engrossed.”

  Yes, the idea of Lauryl close by did occupy his focus. Why didn’t she answer his silent calls? What was she doing so close to Amelie’s house? That troubled him. He looked around the street one last time and turned to Amelie.

  “Just surveying the neighborhood and wondering about the value of the real estate.”

  She stood next to him at the window and nodded at the neighboring arts-and-crafts style houses. “Market’s strong in this neighborhood. Houses sell for a lot.
This house has been in my family for sixty-seven years. My dad grew up in it.”

  Eamon put his arm around her shoulder. Her breathing increased and she sniffled a few times. He squeezed her in a side hug, unsure of what to say. She reached up and put her hand on his.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “What for?”

  “I’m bumming out our evening over a stupid question.” She half-laughed and cried. “I still cry when I talk about him.”

  “Still? Darling, it’s only been a short time since you lost your father. I don’t think anyone expects you not to be grieving.”

  “I know, but I feel so weak and I don’t want you to see me like that.”

  “I don’t see you as weak.” Eamon looked down at her. “I see you as a person who lost someone very important in her life. You loved him. He was your family.” Eamon understood Amelie’s grief. He still felt empty and dejected over the loss of Irina. Meeting Marta and Amelie had helped to ease the feelings, but those emotions still stung him. The more he tried to bury them, the more they resurfaced.

  She nodded and wiped her eyes. After taking a few deep breaths, she managed a smile for him. “I’m going to get dressed and we can go.”

  He put her hand in his and wrapped his fingers around it. “As long as we’re together, I’ll always do my best to keep you happy.”

  “If anyone can, I think it’s you.” She kissed his hand and went to dress.

  * * *

  Eamon walked to the courtyard of the movie theater and observed the crowd milling around outside. His shoulders tensed a bit. Well blended among the humans were several vampires. Their markers brushed over him lightly. He had neglected to adjust his own and it probably resembled a beacon to the young vampires. No point in adjusting now. He would simply deal with whatever reaction he generated. Eamon’s gaze wandered around and one by one, he picked out the vampires. There were three Goth fledglings. No doubt they frequented Lauryl’s club. For the most part, the remaining six or seven vampires were mainstream looking. A young vampire couple waiting in the ticket line stiffened when they felt Eamon approach. The male vampire turned and looked at Eamon, but when he made eye contact with him, he immediately turned back to female vampire at his side and whispered something to her. When she tried to turn to Eamon, the male stopped her.