"And she came to New York looking for me?"
"Scraping together a pitiful amount of savings, she walked to the bus station and ended up here, yes. She followed an old newspaper article to Griffin Designs, met Betsy McCain. They dined at The Imperial the evening I met her." He smiled and his eyes softened. "She's a brave one, Deirdre. She came all the way down here to meet me knowing what I was. And she had me fooled for a while; I truly did think she was you. She's good. She's damn good. The amount of power that girl has stored up within her is amazing."
I nodded. "It all makes sense, now that you say it. But I should have known. Or Max should have known that such a thing was possible."
Victor shrugged. "Familial virtues were rather wasted on Max, Deirdre. You of all people should know that. He did what he wanted and the rest of us could be damned. To be fair to you, though, there is no way the situation could have been foreseen. Lily is unique."
I remembered, though, all of the tears I had wept for that stillborn child and the way the pain of our separation never dissipated. "No, Victor, I should have known.'' I sipped at my wine, staring at nothing.
"Perhaps it is a mother-and-child bond," Victor said softly. "I am no better than Max was at such things."
"But why didn't she come to me, Victor? I would have helped her, would have told her or given her anything she wanted."
"There is a simple answer to that, Deirdre. Very simple. She is a child still, a confused and angry child. Imagine the hurt she felt; the cruel fact of knowing that your mother abandoned you, birthed you and buried you and left you to rot. Intensify that by all of the years she spent in a less than desirable home situation, being cared for out of duty and not love. I grant you, this is not any more rational a reaction than your guilt, but it is just as real. You left her for dead and she hates you for that."
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
« ^ »
"So how does Mitch fit into all of this?" Victor put his head back and laughed. "Quite uncomfortably, I would think. One day Lily will let down her guard or even grow bored with the game, and he will wake up next to someone other than his beloved wife. Imagine his horror when he realizes that this is not just another woman—it is his wife's daughter, his stepdaughter." He laughed again, harder this time.
"Victor, you are a sorry son of a bitch."
"Thank you, my dear, I do try. So I suppose you will be going after them now?"
I sighed. "I do not have a choice, now that I know who Lily is. If she had been anyone else, merely another woman, I could have let it go. I would have had to let it go."
"Had to let it go? I would have thought you'd be angry enough to track them down and kill them."
"I am. And therefore, I could not. You have an animal form, do you not?"
He blinked. "Actually, I have several. But it is not something we discuss readily. That form is a reflection of our inner instincts; it is often not complimentary or pretty. We are, after all, monsters under our human skins."
"Just so. I will not ask what form your baser instincts take." I gave him a sharp look and then a small laugh. "I probably do not want to know. But have you ever had your animal form angered by another?"
"To the point of wanting to kill? Of course."
"And what was the outcome?"
"They died. And the problem is?"
"I do not want Mitch dead. I will gladly live the rest of my life without him before being responsible for that. But the Cat is not of like mind."
"Ah. I see. You face an interesting dilemma, then. I have never been at odds with my inner form. It must be uncomfortable."
I laughed. "I always seem to be fighting something or someone, Victor. At least this time the enemy is easy to see."
"But not easy to eliminate. For what it is worth, Deirdre, I am sorry for your conflict. You must truly love him."
"Yes, I do. And for that, I am sorry." I got up out of the chair and drained my wineglass. "I should be going now. New Orleans?"
"Yes, that is where she should be."
"I will find her. Thank you, Victor."
He rose and walked to the door with me, kissed my hand again. "Why are you thanking me? If not for me, none of this would have happened."
"If Lily is as determined as you say, it would have happened regardless. At least you told me the truth. You will, however, give me back half of the money. As soon as possible."
"Only half?"
When I didn't answer, he smiled. "Of course, half of the money. I'll have it taken care of tomorrow. And I will let you know when it is done."
I shook my head. "Victor, you are not senile. I will tell them if you want."
"Later, perhaps. I don't mind the confinement as much as you'd think. I am comfortable, at least. And I am old, Deirdre, so very old. And so very tired."
"Walk softly this night, Victor."
I started toward the outer door. "Deirdre?"
Turning around, I was surprised at his grief-stricken expression. Even more surprised to see bloodstained tears streaking down his face. "Yes?" I said.
"Go easy with her. She is a child. A beautiful child."
"I will try, Victor."
"See?" He wiped at his eyes in annoyance. "I really am an old man. But Lily—oh, she made me feel young again. Bring her back to me."
I nodded to him and opened the door. "Lock the cell again, Claude," I called. "We have finished our visit. And no harm done."
"Thank you, Miss Griffin." He hurried into the room; I heard the air turn off, heard the click of the tank door as it closed and shivered again.
"What did you do to him?" Claude's voice was a combination of accusation and awe. "I could swear he was crying."
"It has nothing to do with me, Claude. Now, can you show me to a room in the Cadre quarters? I need some rest."
"I had them get your old suite ready while I was waiting."
"That will do just fine. Thank you."
It was the same set of rooms, but it seemed different somehow. "No roses?" I asked Claude after he opened the door and handed me the key.
"Roses? You want roses? I can get you some."
"No, I don't want roses. May I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead, Miss Griffin."
"First thing, please call me Deirdre. And how long have you been, ah, a member of the Cadre?"
"Six and a half months." His answer was immediate and exact.
"Well, when Vivienne gets back in town, you should get her to fill you in on recent history. I doubt there are too many old-time members of the Cadre who would want to see you walking down the hall bringing me roses. But thank you for the offer. And thank you for getting the room put together for me."
"Miss, er, Deirdre? Did you need anything else? I notice that you have no place to sleep."
"There is the bed, Claude. That will be fine."
He looked horrified. "But, what about your coffin?"
I laughed and shrugged. "I do not have a coffin. And I do not need one."
"But, what about protection?"
"Claude, do you actually think a coffin gives you protection? Keeps you safe? What's to stop someone from opening the lid? The sanctity of vampire sleep? I doubt it."
He shook his head and gave me a wry grin. "It gives me the creeps to think about sleeping in the open."
I smiled and pointedly walked to the door, grasping the knob. "And it gives me the creeps, as you say, to think about sleeping any other way. Good night, Claude."
I locked the door after he left and turned the dead bolt. A useless gesture, I knew, against creatures that could turn into a mist and drift right in. But for the most part, Cadre members were painfully polite. I had no fear of them interrupting my rest.
Stripping off my clothes, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water warmed, I looked into the mirror. "You have a daughter," I whispered to my reflection. "A daughter." And I smiled.
The hot shower was relaxing and soothing. I toweled myself dry,
flipped off the lights, pulled the heavy red brocade spread from the bed and crawled in. Despite all of the events and revelations of the past few days, I knew I would sleep. And sleep well. Everything would eventually work itself out, I thought, even with Mitch. The Cat will forgive. And I will find my daughter and make her understand.
"Yes, the Cat will forgive and it will all work out," I assured myself as I drifted to sleep. "I have a daughter."
I am not sure how he got into the room. But suddenly, here he is, next to me in the bed. Oh, the dear familiarity of that body and those hands. My heart rises up within me and I start to speak his name. "No.'' He lays his hand over my mouth. "Don't speak. No words." And so I lie silent, listening to the sweet whispers his lips give to my flesh. He kisses my face, my neck, gently and slowly tracing the slope of skin from breasts to belly, his canines lightly grazing, testing, nipping, searching. I gasp and lick my lips as he works his way lower, still probing with tongue and teeth. Then he rears his head back and strikes, his fangs cut into my flesh and I feel the irresistible pull of blood rushing from the center of my being in answer to his need. I cry out, wordless because of his command, unaware of everything but the relentless tremors of my spiraling orgasm.
When the shudders subside, he looks up at me and smiles, blood smeared around his mouth. "Mitch," I say, my voice still soft and hoarse, filled with love, "that was wonderful. But how…"
He puts his hand over my mouth again. "No words, remember? I have missed you." He laughs and his face twists, changing. In the dim light it looks brutal, bestial. He licks my blood from his lips and smiles. "Yes, I have missed you. But Victor is right. She's good. Damned good."
The Cat howls within me and bursts through in fury. Before I can whisper the words to stop, she flings herself onto him. Claws extended, she rips the smile off Mitch's face; blood spurts all around us, driving her into a deep frenzy of slashing and tearing. His skin hangs in tatters, and his smile now consists only of teeth and gore, frozen in place.
I leap on top of him, front claws digging into his neck, back claws raking open his stomach and groin. Burrowing my muzzle deep into his chest, I search and find the ultimate reward, his steaming-hot and beating heart. I shake it from side to side, tearing it away from the anchoring arteries, ripping it free from his cold, betraying body. I savor the taste of him, bite down hard, chew and swallow. When the last morsel is gone, I jump down and settle onto the floor, leaving his grinning corpse on the bed. Methodically and fastidiously, I go about grooming all the blood from my fur: a delightful task for his blood feeds me like no blood ever had before. I take my time, what is time to me? I am free of love and honor and conscience, free finally of the other.
A few more strokes of my tongue, and I am totally clean. I jump back up on the bed, and push the covers over him, rolling him closer to the edge, nudging him with my head until he falls with a sodden thump. I lie down again and close my eyes. A deep contented rumble vibrates through my body, my tail twitches once or twice, I yawn. And sleep.
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
« ^ »
"Jesus Christ!" I sat straight up in a cold sweat and looked around me. No blood, no body, no Cat. "So much for forgiveness," I said, and swung my legs over the side of the bed, shuddering slightly at the remembrance of Mitch's body lying there on the floor. The dream had seemed so real; even now the taste of him lingered in my mouth. And his blood had been so sweet, his death so satisfying. I shivered and went into the bathroom to splash cold water onto my face.
"I can hardly wait to hear what Sam has to say about all of this," I said. Checking the clock at the bedside table, I saw that it was nearing 4:00 P.M.. I had slept a good long time, but felt weary and drained. "A little more sleep and a lot less dream would have been good." Worse, the dream of blood had awakened my hunger; I would need to feed soon, if only to have the strength for my next task.
I had to find Lily as quickly as possible. There was no way I could make up for her feelings of abandonment and hatred, but I had not known of her prior to this. Whether I should have known, whether I had suspected her existence somewhere deep in my mind, was unimportant now. What was important was that I find her.
Hopefully, when found she would be alone, having released whatever hold she'd had on Mitch. I did not want to see Mitch. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. The dream had been awful enough. I had no desire to repeat it in real life.
I sighed, picked up my clothes and promptly dropped them back to the floor. They were travel-worn and stained with wine; I crinkled my nose with distaste at the thought of putting them back on. On impulse, I threw open the door of a heavy armoire and found to my delight a heavy terry-cloth robe hanging there. I wondered briefly, as I wrapped myself in it, whether the Cadre provided these much like the higher-class hotels, or if it had been forgotten by the last occupant and ignored by the cleaning staff. It did not really matter; it was clean and fresh. As I was tying the sash at the waist, there was a soft knock on the door.
"Who's there?"
"Deirdre? I'm back; let me in, sister."
I smiled, I should have recognized the knock. I flung open the door and Vivienne threw herself into my arms, hugging the breath out of my body and depositing a warm and lingering kiss on my lips.
She laughed, that soft metallic giggle I found entrancing and annoying at the same time. As I often found her.
"I heard you were here, ma cherie, as soon as I woke up. These long flights, you know how it is. It has been so long; you are a bad sister for staying away so long. But oh"—and she gave me another hug and kiss—"it is so good to see you. I also hear that Mitch, he is not with you. So we will have the time for a nice long girl talk, no?"
"Well," I said, putting the robe back to rights and tightening the sash again after her enthusiastic hugs, "I have some time. But first I need some clothes. I came away in a bit of a hurry, you see, and did not pack much."
She gave a little disdaining puff. "You are always in a bit of a hurry, Deirdre. Never having time for anything. But come along to my room; I can give you clothes. And then we will go out together, yes? I am famished."
She grabbed my arm and dragged me down the hall to her room. Claude struggled in with about ten suitcases, setting them very carefully in a row on the floor. "I brought these in as soon as I heard you were awake, Miss Courbet."
"Merci, Claude. This is my sister, Deirdre." She threw an arm around my neck. "You are to give her extra-special treatment."
Claude nodded. "I have already had the pleasure of meeting Miss Griffin. I trust she slept well."
"Well enough, Claude. Thank you."
"Will there be anything more, Miss Courbet?"
"Not now, Claude, I must get my sister dressed. And after that we shall be going out for a bite."
She winked at me. "Perhaps you would like to join us?"
He looked back and forth between the two of us, then pulled out his ever-present handkerchief and patted his forehead. "I have already eaten," he said, "but if you need me to come with you, I would of course be delighted."
"No, no, Claude. That is not necessary. And how is Victor these days?"
He jumped guiltily. "He is fine. Just fine." He looked over at me. I shook my head and he relaxed. "You know how he is; he has good days and bad days."
"As do we all, mon petit chou."
"So, if there isn't anything else?"
"No, you may go." She walked over to him, stretched up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good evening, Claude."
He gave us each a small bow and walked out the door, shutting it carefully and precisely behind him. We heard his heavy footsteps move down the hall, heard the elevator bell ring.
"I know," she said, her voice soft, but filled with laughter. "You must be thinking, 'What was she thinking?' "
"Not at all, he seems nice. And you certainly can't fault his manners. But after Sam, you must admit that he is rather an odd choice."
"What does Sam have to do
with it? It is none of his business who I choose to…" She stopped short and put her hand up to her mouth. "Oh, you think that Claude and I are lovers? No, no and no." She giggled again. "Although I do think that it might be an intriguing possibility. But no, Deirdre, he was here to protect my interests while I was in Paris. He is very loyal to me."
"Are you sure?"
"I am the only one who treats him like he is a member here. The rest of them avoid him, as if being overweight were contagious. One would think that after centuries, they would look less to outer qualities and more to the inner virtues." She shrugged. "And Victor likes him."
"No doubt."
"Victor gets out of his cell all the time," she informed me with another giggle. "The other house leaders do not know. They fear him, you know, as well they should, since they put him there."
"But aren't you in charge of the Cadre?"
She rolled her eyes. "In name, yes. And they defer to me; but we are ruled now by council decisions. And so Victor was put away."
"He does not need to be there."
"No, you are right. But that was not a question, you have seen him?"
I told her the story as she unpacked. During the process, Vivienne would throw a dress or skirt at me and have me try it on for her. As I finished explaining why I had to go to New Orleans to find Lily as soon as possible, she nodded and removed one final piece from her suitcase. "Here, here is what you should wear tonight; it is perfect for you and you will feel more comfortable appropriately dressed. And yes, of course you should go to New Orleans to see your daughter. But tomorrow. I will help you with the arrangements. Perhaps I should even send Claude with you? Yes." She nodded again and tossed me the garment. "He will be able to help you, I'm sure."
I looked at what she had chosen for me. It was a shiny black vinyl bodysuit. "This will make me more comfortable?" I smiled. "Are we going scuba diving?"
"No, silly. We are going to my club. Dangerous Crossings. Now go and change. I want you to look magnificent tonight."
Vampire Legacy 04 - Blood of My Blood Page 16