Ceci and me NYC.
You should have let Ceci go with Irina, Eamon thought as he put everything back in the wallet and tossed it to Augusto.
Trevor walked over to Eamon and Marta. “Are we done?”
“Yes, I believe we are. Thank you for your help.” Eamon shook the human’s hand.
“Just doin’ my job, man,” he replied. “Augy, go upstairs and bring down—”
“Kein ist sie meine!” Egon shouted, his face contorted with rage.
“He says she’s his,” Eamon said.
“Then you get her, you Nazi douche bag,” Trevor muttered. “We’ve gotta get this stuff gone.” Egon stalked out of the room, kicking one of the corpses as he walked by. “Fucking nut job vampire,” Trevor said as he grabbed one of the bodies by the arms and dragged it to the center of the room.
“Why don’t we let the gentleman from security finish this?” Marta suggested. “Lauryl, would you show us the bar?”
Lauryl stepped around the corpses and led the way to the main bar. She turned the lights on as she entered and waved everyone in.
Carissa jumped over the bar, filled a couple of pitchers of water, and set it out. She found some clean bar towels and put them down next to the pitcher. “In case anyone wants to clean up.”
Sasha and Marta wiped their hands and faces and spot cleaned any areas they saw on each other. Lauryl sat on one of the stools and looked over at Eamon, who was balling his ruined shirt up.
“Losing that shirt is pretty tough to take, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile.
He gave her a disapproving frown, but then softened. “You know that I’m fond of my clothing.”
“You want a t-shirt?”
“No, thank you.” He set the shirt on the bar and faced Anthony. Whether he liked Wilson was not important anymore. He was a vampire of his line and Eamon owed him his protection. The doctor had more than proved himself in this fight. He also made Lauryl happy. Eamon extended his hand. “I appreciate your help in this. You show promise.”
Anthony hesitated a moment before shaking Eamon’s hand. “Thanks. I appreciate the compliment.”
Eamon let Anthony’s hand go and looked at Lauryl. “He loves you.”
Lauryl smiled shyly. “I know. I love him, too.”
Two young vampires of his blood in love. He fought back a brief urge to roll his eyes and instead quietly appreciated the situation. “On second thought, I would like a t-shirt.”
Carissa rooted around behind the bar and tossed him a black t-shirt. He unfolded it and grimaced when he saw the club’s logo printed in red on the front and the word Változás, Hungarian for turned, on the back. After frowning at it for a moment, he pulled it over his head and smoothed his hair.
“I wish I could take your picture,” Lauryl said. “Because no one would ever believe you were wearing that.”
“I think the pained expression on his face would be a nice photo as well,” Marta said.
“I think he looks hot,” Sasha said.
“Me too,” Carissa agreed.
Eamon nodded. “Thank you, ladies.”
“Well Eamon, your little coterie of vampires seems to think you look nice. It would appear that you have enlarged your line with the lovely Carissa and Sasha. They seem quite loyal to you.”
“I’m not their maker.” Eamon checked behind the bar for a bottle of Glenlivet.
“Mine is dead,” Carissa said eagerly. “He died twenty years ago.”
“Mine is gone as well,” Sasha said. “He never left Germany.”
Eamon put the bottle down and studied the two orphans. The two had fought for him without the least hesitation. They didn’t even need to be asked. They fell right into the ranks and put their lives on the line for him. It wasn’t much of a threat, but it was still quite a show of loyalty. If they were orphans and wanted him as a maker, he’d do it. It was an easy way to gain vampires without having to bother with turning them.
“If you’d like, I’ll be your protector. However, I’ll tell you all that there will be another joining our group.” He poured himself a glass and offered the bottle to the others. “Amelie has agreed to be my wife.”
“You waited until now to tell us?” Marta asked, hugging him.
“There was another matter we had to deal with.” Eamon kissed her cheek.
“Yes, but a quick update would have been nice,” Marta said. “I’m so happy for you.”
Lauryl leaned over and touched his hand. “I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Thank you,” he said as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Y’all are perfect for each other in a nerdy way. The way we weren’t,” she said. “I’m perfect for Anthony because he knows all the sneaky, psychiatrist ways to keep me in line and he knows all of the shitty parts of me.”
“Poor Anthony,” Eamon said with mock concern.
“Shut up!” Lauryl snatched her hand away and smiled.
Eamon drained his glass and turned to the others. “Well, I’m calling it a night. I’d like to stop at my house before returning to Amelie. I’ll arrange a gathering after she joins us. That way we can celebrate our union as well as my good fortune of gaining the two newest members of our line.” Sasha and Carissa grinned at him. “Then we can have the adoption ceremony and make it official. For now, though, you’ll have to allow us our time to be together.” He nodded to the room and left.
* * *
Amelie picked up the clock. It was close to four-thirty. She looked down at her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a text message. It was the same as the last time she checked. What kind of business could keep Eamon out until four thirty? Vampire business. Some sort of problem at Lauryl’s club was all he said. The familiar sound of the Boxster’s engine slowing in front of her house erased her concern. She jumped up and went to the door.
“I was worried,” she said.
Eamon wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “Just a lot of nonsense.”
“Bar fights or something?” she asked.
“Something like that.”
“You weren’t wearing that when you left,” she said. Amelie touched the collar of his shirt before she kissed his cheek.
“No, I stopped off at my house to change. I was a bit of a mess.”
Amelie buried her face in his chest. “You smell so good. This is so cliché, but I love a man who smells good. Whatever it is you wear, I love it. It’s not overpowering like some men. It’s just subtle and well, sexy. It suits you.”
“I think you’re biased.” He chuckled.
She shook her head. “No way.”
Eamon held her back a bit and looked at her. He’d be content to stay isolated with her, discovering the millions of intricate details about her that he knew existed. Then he had an idea.
“What?” she asked. “You’ve got a strange look on your face.”
“No,” He tilted her head to the side and inspected his bite, which had healed into a bruise, and kissed it. “I’m thinking how lucky I am.”
Amelie’s cheeks blushed. “I think that every time I see you.”
Eamon picked her up, carried her into her room, and placed her on the bed. He loosened his tie and pulled it through his collar. “You have a passport, don’t you?” he asked as she unbuttoned his shirt.
She nodded. “Why?
“I thought we’d go to London tomorrow.” He leaned in and kissed her.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” That was it? No endless list of questions or complaints like Lauryl? Amelie just accepted what he said.
“Yes.”
“So you’d like to go to London?”
“Of course. It’s with you.” She kissed his chest.
“I love you, my lovely, little gothic doll.”
“What?” she asked.
Eamon smiled “That’s what I thought you looked like in the book store the night we met.”
About the Author
Alison Beigh
tol is a registered nurse and studied history at the University of Florida. These days she works as a real estate agent. For as long as she can remember, Beightol has had an affinity for vampire stories, romance, and gothic tales that keep her up at night. She lives in Gainesville Florida with her daughter, two boxer dogs, two cats and her husband Scott M. Baker, who is also a writer. Beightol fills her free time with writing, travelling to lesser known historical sites and searching for the ultimate pair of shoes.
You can find Alison on Facebook at Alison Beightol, Author or by email at [email protected]. She loves to hear from readers!
Life in Moonlight: The Primigenio Tales: Book 1 Page 30