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The Accidental Vampire Plus Vampires Are Forever and Bonus Material

Page 51

by Lynsay Sands


  “Both parents were there, and I had an older brother. He was a pain as most older brothers are; bossy, superior, protective,” Inez said, and then commented, “You have one sister, right?”

  “Jeanne Louise,” Thomas said with a nod, and then added, “I love her a great deal, but Lissianna and I are closer. We were close in age and grew up together.”

  Inez peered at him curiously. “How old is Jeanne Louise?”

  “She’ll be one hundred next year.”

  “Only one hundred?” she asked with surprise. “God, you were over a century old when she was born. No wonder you’re closer to Lissianna.”

  Thomas smiled faintly. “Immortals are only allowed to have one child every hundred years.”

  “You mean the woman only ovulates once every hundred years?” Inez asked with amazement.

  “No.” He laughed at the idea. “It’s a law, not a biological thing.”

  “Oh,” she said, but then asked, “Whose law?”

  “We have a council that makes our laws and that is one of them.”

  Inez was curious about that, but figured she could learn more about it later. Right now, she wanted to know more about his family. “If Jeanne Louise is only a hundred years old, then your parents are still alive?”

  “My father is, but my mother died when I was four. That’s why Aunt Marguerite raised me. Father didn’t have a clue what to do with a toddler.”

  Inez relaxed a little. She’d wondered why—if his parents were alive—he’d been raised by his aunt. “So Jeanne Louise is your half sister? Your father found a second lifemate after your mother died?”

  “Well, no, actually he didn’t,” Thomas admitted with a wry smile and then said, “It’s kind of complicated. Basically, my father seems to be cursed when it comes to wives. They just kept dying on him…Not an easy thing when they were all immortals,” he pointed out and then went on quietly, “After Jeanne Louise’s mother died, he just sort of gave up. He’s a recluse now and doesn’t see anyone. Jeanne Louise doesn’t even know what he looks like.”

  “How sad,” Inez murmured quietly.

  Thomas shrugged. “He has to deal with it in his own way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose a lifemate. It’s something I don’t even want to contemplate,” he added, squeezing her a little tighter against his side.

  Inez didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t promise he would never lose her, since she wasn’t sure he had her. She was growing more and more sure of her own feelings with every passing hour, but it just made her more certain that she couldn’t be his lifemate if he couldn’t love her back.

  Deciding a change of topic was in order she said, “Tell me about your music.”

  Thomas came to an abrupt halt, his head whipping her way. “How did you know about that?”

  “Your binder was open when I brought the phone out to you the first morning,” she admitted solemnly. “You write music?”

  Thomas blew his breath out and started to walk again. “Yes.”

  She bit her lip at the reluctance behind the word and was debating whether to change the subject again when he began to speak. He told her about Marguerite teaching him to play, about Jean Claude’s jeering response to it, and his decision to keep his efforts to himself after that. And he had all these years. It seemed the man she was coming to love had a stubborn streak, at least about things that mattered to him. But that was all right, Inez decided. She could be a bit of a bull herself.

  “How about this place?” Thomas asked suddenly, and Inez glanced around to see that while she’d been thinking they’d left the quiet residential area and entered the shopping section. The road around them was full of stores and restaurants, but the one Thomas was gesturing to was a small café on a corner. It was two floors, with glass windows running along both sides that looked out onto the street. Inez could see that it was a popular spot, even at this hour there were few empty tables.

  “It looks promising,” she commented and they went in.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you want and go find a table while I order?” Thomas asked as they reached the counter.

  Nodding, Inez glanced over the menu on the boards on the wall behind the counter and said, “A latte and lemon muffin.”

  “Not tea?” Thomas asked with surprise.

  “I never have tea away from home. They never steep it long enough,” she informed him.

  “Okay,” he said with a laugh, and then pressed a quick kiss to her lips and urged her away. “Go hunt us up a table. I’ll find you.”

  Smiling, Inez headed for the stairs to the second level. There weren’t many tables on the main floor and the few there were taken. The second floor wasn’t much better. As she’d noted from the street, it was quite busy, but Inez managed to find an empty table by the window and settled there to watch the stairs for Thomas.

  It wasn’t long before he appeared. His gaze swept the second level until he spotted her and then he headed straight over. Inez couldn’t help but notice the glances cast his way by the other women in the restaurant as he passed them. She had the most juvenile urge to stick out her tongue at them. He was hers and no matter how beautiful, smart, or accomplished they were, those other women could never be anything more than blow-up dolls, or pretty puppets to him. It was good to know, but didn’t keep her from wanting to pop the dolls with a pin, and cut the strings on the puppets.

  “What is that expression about?” Thomas asked with amusement as he set the tray on the table.

  “What expression?” Inez asked innocently.

  “I’d have to describe it as gentle malice,” he informed her as he passed her a latte and her muffin.

  “Malice?” she asked with surprise. “Never.”

  “No?” Thomas asked mildly as he set his own drink and muffin in front of the chair opposite her, and then set the tray out of the way on the window sill beside them.

  “No,” Inez assured him. “I was just noticing that the women all eye you like candy and that I’d have to hurt them if they were foolish enough to try something.”

  Thomas had been in the process of taking his seat when she said that, but stilled, his eyes widening incredulously at her words.

  “I assure you there was no malice in the thought at all,” she said with a shrug.

  A burst of laughter slipped from his lips and Thomas finished settling in his seat, then shook one finger back and forth at her. “Naughty, naughty. And here I thought your eyes were brown, not green.”

  “I’m not jealous,” Inez assured him solemnly as she began to doctor her latte, adding sugar to it.

  “No?” Thomas asked doubtfully and said, “I am.”

  Inez glanced at him with surprise. “What have you to be jealous of?”

  “Of every guy who gives you the up and down look.”

  Inez laughed as he showed her the look; squinting his eyes and running them up and down what he could see of her figure above the table. Shaking her head, she protested, “No one does that.”

  “They do,” he assured her. “Mr. Ginger-hair behind the counter downstairs was doing it.”

  “Well, I’ve never noticed it.”

  “I know,” Thomas said with amusement. “And I think it’s adorable that you’re completely oblivious to how attractive you are. It makes me glad I’m not a mortal. I think a normal man would have to hit you over the head before you’d notice they were attracted to you.”

  Inez shook her head. “Men preferred leggy blondes and sexy redheads. I’m just boring me.”

  “Inez, love, there’s nothing boring about you,” he said dryly.

  She stared at him silently, wishing he meant that. She wanted to be his love. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, Inez glanced down at her latte, took a sip, and then asked, “So how are we supposed to look for Marguerite here in York?”

  Thomas blinked at the sudden change of topic, then allowed it and grimaced. “Well, we can’t trace her phone.”

  “No,” she agr
eed on a sigh.

  “Or her credit cards,” he added and then shook his head. “In truth, I haven’t got a clue where to start. We already know she isn’t in one of the hotels.”

  “That leaves flats and rental houses,” Inez said.

  Thomas nodded. “But nothing has shown up on the Notte credit cards.”

  “They paid by cash or check, then,” she said thoughtfully.

  “It looks that way. Unfortunately, we can’t go around knocking on every door in town.”

  “No.” She frowned, and then asked, “What kinds of things does she like?”

  “Music,” Thomas said at once, and then added, “and reading.”

  “Music and reading,” Inez said thoughtfully. “Would she be likely to go to concerts?”

  “She might, but she’s here to work.”

  Inez blinked. “Right. I forgot about that. She’s looking for Christian Notte’s mother.”

  Thomas nodded. “She and Tiny spent three weeks going through church and city archives searching for any mention of his birth.”

  “His mother was married to his father then?”

  Thomas opened his mouth and then closed it again and finally just shook his head as he admitted, “I don’t know. They might have just been looking for any mention of a child born named Christian. I doubt it was a popular name.”

  Inez nodded agreement. “You’re probably right.”

  “I know they were in London to meet with Christian in the hopes that he could help them narrow the search or give them a possible clue.”

  Inez was silent for a moment, and then asked,

  “Couldn’t the father just tell them who the mother is and where to find her?”

  When Thomas stared at her blankly, she pointed out. “Well, obviously Julius was here in England. The hotel suites were on his credit card. He must know who the mother is, why did he not just tell him?”

  Thomas shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe he did and they’re now just trying to find the woman.”

  “Would it be that hard?” she asked curiously.

  “Christian is over five hundred years old. Immortals change their names, move around…And few have social insurance numbers or other paperwork to trace them through, at least not under their own name.” He shrugged. “It can be harder than finding a mortal.”

  “Okay, so Marguerite and Tiny traveled to London to meet with Christian in the hopes of getting more information, and his father, Julius, joined them there and presumably told them something that led them here to York,” she commented, and Thomas nodded. They were both silent for a minute and then Inez pursed her lips and said, “You know there’s something that’s been kind of preying on my mind.”

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “Well, there were seven people in the party in London and then only five traveled on to York. What happened to the other two?”

  “Seven people?” Thomas asked with confusion.

  “Bastien said Julius requested two suites at Claridge’s, with two bedrooms in each, and that three of the rooms were to have twin beds,” she pointed out. “Three rooms with twin beds, that’s six. The last didn’t really matter so either it was another two who could share a bed, or it was only one.”

  “You’re right,” Thomas said with surprise.

  Inez nodded solemnly. “So who were all these people?”

  “Well…” Thomas considered the matter. “Two would be Marguerite and Tiny. Christian Notte and his father were also apparently there.”

  “And the other three?”

  Thomas thought for a minute, and then said, “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know anything about this Christian Notte?” Inez asked.

  Thomas shrugged. “He’s related to someone who works for my cousin Vincent. He and some other family members flew to California when my cousin had trouble out there. They stayed at his place. My aunt did too; that’s how she ended up getting involved in his case.” He scowled and then shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea who the other three people in the party could be. Or why only five of them continued on here to York.”

  Inez sat back in her seat and sighed. “It probably doesn’t matter anyway. It was just bugging me.”

  They fell silent, both concentrating on their drinks and muffins, and then Inez glanced around.

  “What is it?” Thomas asked, noting at once.

  “I was just wondering where the ladies’ room is,” she admitted.

  He glanced around the upper floor, and then said, “I don’t see one up here, but there’s one downstairs next to the stairs.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

  Grabbing her purse, Inez stood, and walked to the stairs. She descended them slowly, finding them a bit steep for her comfort. Relieved once she’d reached the ground floor, she glanced around for a sign for the ladies’ room.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  Inez glanced toward the speaker with a start, her eyes widening as she found herself peering at a tallish man with ginger hair. He wore the same green apron as the girl behind the counter had worn. Mr. Ginger-hair really did exist, she realized with surprise.

  “Miss?” the man asked with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “I—Yes,” Inez said, suddenly flustered. “I was just looking for the ladies’ room.” They tended to be called toilets here in England, but even after eight years, Inez couldn’t bring herself to say that when looking for a restroom. She preferred the polite euphemism to the literal word.

  “Oh, they’re right over here.” He led her to the right and Inez smiled and thanked him when she spotted the recessed sign reading “Toilets.” She went into the ladies’ room, finding herself in a small room with a booth in the corner and a sink to her left. With the number of patrons in the place, Inez wasn’t surprised to find she had to wait and was just glad there weren’t a couple of women already waiting before her.

  Moving to the sink, Inez peered into the mirror and scowled at her hair. Knowing there was no use trying to tame the wild curls, she reached into her purse for her lipstick. She’d bitten or eaten off the lipstick she’d put on earlier and that, at least, was something she could repair.

  As she ran the color over her lips, Inez found her mind returning to the matter of the hotel suites at Claridge’s, but knew it was a waste of time even as she pondered it. She didn’t know the people involved well enough to know who the other three people might have been. Obviously it was someone connected to Christian Notte; family members or friends maybe.

  Inez had barely had that thought when the hand holding the lipstick stopped moving. What if the other three were Christian’s mother and her people? Her family or friends?

  The thought had hardly crossed her mind before she gave a small shake of the head and finished with her lipstick. No. If Christian’s mother had been in the party then the case would have been over and Marguerite would have returned home.

  Inez stilled as another thought struck her. Straightening, she peered blindly into the mirror as she considered that it might not have been his mother, but it could have been someone who could lead them to Christian’s mother. Marguerite might have found someone who was around at the time that he was born and who could lead them to the woman who gave him life. In which case, they may have come here, found his mother, and then…Then what?

  If Julius was one of the ones who left the party when they left London, they might have felt it was necessary to meet back up with him after finding the woman to ensure they had the right one. In the normal course of events they could have just snapped a picture and sent it to him by cell phone or email to have him confirm or deny the woman’s identity, but this wasn’t a normal case. From the sounds of it, the father didn’t want Christian to find his mother. He might make things difficult. They might have to fly back to Italy or wherever he was and see his reaction to the woman to know if they had the right one. If so, they might not even be here in York anymore.

 
On the other hand, Inez admitted, they may have found the woman and still be here for some reason. Their being in Italy was a slim chance, especially since Bastien had called the day before and was told they were in England. Still, they could have flown home since then and a phone call only took a couple of moments. There was no harm in checking was there?

  The door opened beside her, and Inez glanced toward it, hoping it wasn’t someone who would try to hop in line before her when the woman in the booth finally came out. She really had to go.

  Fortunately, it was a man and he was obviously in the wrong bathroom. Inez offered a wryly sympathetic look as she waited for the tall, fair-haired man to realize his mistake, offer embarrassed apologies, and back out. But he wasn’t doing that. He was staring straight at her with grim determination and continuing into the room.

  Thirteen

  Having grown up in a house with two women, Thomas knew how long they could take in the bathroom, so he moved to a table holding a stack of magazines and newspapers, searching for something to read while he waited for Inez. He’d just settled on the local newspaper, when he saw her returning. Eyebrows rising at how quick she’d been, he dropped the newspaper and headed back to the table.

  Her head was bowed and she was peering down into her cup when he sat down. When she continued to sit like that, he frowned with concern. “Is everything all right?”

  Inez glanced up, a questioning smile curving her lips. “Yes, of course. Why?”

  Thomas smiled in return, and shook his head. “I just wondered.”

  She smiled and then took her last bite of muffin, and drank down the last of her latte. Thomas followed suit and then raised his eyebrows. “Ready to go?”

  Inez nodded, collected her purse and stood. “Where to now?”

  Thomas grimaced and admitted, “Well, the only thing I can think to do is keep walking around with an eye out to spotting Aunt Marguerite. York isn’t that big a city, at least its center isn’t large, and it doesn’t appear too busy at night. Maybe we’ll get lucky and spot her. In the meantime, we’ll try to think of places to look for her. We might check the book stores tomorrow evening. It’s too late tonight, but we’ll have to check the hours and see if they’re open later than five o’clock.”

 

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