47
The ambulance bumped over the pasture on its way back to the driveway, with Callie Armstrong and Jo inside, riding side by side, with Angélique and Henri also crammed in back. He had not given the emergency services people any choice about that. Only once did Jo’s eyes open, but she saw Angélique and her eyes softened, and then she look at Henri and smiled slightly, before she faded back out.
Roland was sitting in the grass, the impact of what he had done finally getting through.
“I don’t know what came over me,” he said to Tristan. “I am so sorry, Tristan. And ashamed. My first taste of combat, and I…”
Tristan looked at his friend. He had royally screwed up, no two ways about it. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, clapping Roland on the back. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a nip, and perhaps a bite to eat.”
They turned when they heard footsteps along the gravel, coming from the direction of the stable. It was David.
“Good evening!” he said, sounding like the aristocrat he was, but not looking much like one. His hair was tangled, his clothing disheveled, as though he had just returned from camping several days in the forest without any gear.
“Can you tell me–is everyone all right?”
Tristan slid his finger around to the trigger on the launcher. If he was not mistaken, there was a stake in it, loaded and ready to go.
“We don’t know yet,” said Tristan, speaking easily. “Pierre Aucoin, from the village–he is not with us any longer.” He bowed his head for a moment, although he kept all his senses focused on David, alert for any sudden movement. Roland bowed his head as well.
“I don’t think I knew Pierre,” said David, and he likely did not, as he had no friends in the village and paid no attention at all to the people who lived there.
“Jo was accidentally hurt, and is headed to the hospital, along with…Callie Armstrong.”
David froze.
Tristan let the moment drag, and then drag further. He waited to see what David would do, knowing that he could outwait him.
Sure enough, David croaked, “Callie Armstrong?”
“That’s right,” said Tristan, rather enjoying himself. He let the words hang, and waited again.
“Callie Armstrong is on the way to the hospital?” David asked.
“Is that a surprise?” asked Tristan, his tone soft, as though he were talking about a change in the weather. He fingered the trigger, his body ready to react.
David sagged. His shoulders slumped down, and he put his face in his hands. “Thank God,” he murmured.
Interesting, thought Tristan. When people hear that things are not as bad as they had feared, their reactions are so unpredictable. I’d have guessed he would be capering around the grounds, shouting and singing, on top of the world.
“And Henri?” David asked.
“Henri went with Jo and Callie in the ambulance.”
“Thank you,” said David. He ran a hand through his tangled hair, and took off at a trot towards the Château. He was hoping to find a straggling guest, a drunk one, and have another go. The big problem of Callie was done with, it appeared, but nevertheless, his urge for more of that tasty alcoholic blood was as strong as ever.
He did not pause to wonder about it, he just began to hunt, even as the slayers with their launcher watched him go.
“More trouble coming from that one,” said Tristan quietly. “But hopefully not tonight. Let’s go have some dinner. And–what time is it in America? Two in the afternoon? I have a call to make!” and Tristan gestured to Roland to go ahead so he could have some privacy, and tell Jessica every detail of what had happened. He could not wait to see her pixilated image and hear her sultry voice. Just the way she said “launcher”….
The hospital staff was in a bit of an uproar. Henri’s bandages had caused a huge ruckus among the doctors and nurses, since they had never seen anything remotely like them before–bandages that weren’t just for protection, but that actively, and rapidly, heal wounds! More than one doctor had tried to get Henri alone and talk business, because they knew a whopping opportunity when they saw one.
And Henri had rearranged the schedules of nearly everyone working on the sixth floor, insisting that Jo and Callie have only the best of everything. One sour look from a nurse and she was banished; any hint of patronizing behavior from a doctor, and he was gone as well. The Marquis de la Motte was running the sixth floor of the hospital like his own private fiefdom.
The next day, Jo was on fewer painkillers, and able to talk.
“Jo. How are you feeling?” Henri asked, the minute her eyes opened.
She smiled at him. “It’s nothing,” she said, but even Jo could hear the minimizing in that, and almost managed a laugh, except it hurt way too much.
“Next time, don’t run right at the armed people,” Henri said, his voice low and serious, but unable to keep from smiling, or from putting his hand in her hair, or rubbing her arm.
“He was going to kill you,” said Jo, her eyes wide.
Henri nodded. He looked at her tenderly, afraid to ask, but knowing that he had to.
“You know…about me,” said Henri.
“Yes,” said Jo. “I know.”
She did not turn away, and she did not change her expression, which was full of the warmth and love and trust she felt for Henri, vampire or not. They were ready for a new start, one with no secrets, no jealousies, no fear.
His hand tightened on her arm, and he moved closer, and put his face next to hers, kissing her cheek, then, irresistibly, her lips.
She kissed him back, the heat from his touch flooding her body as she opened her mouth to him, and reached up with one arm to pull him closer.
The machines she was hooked up to started beeping and alarms went off, bringing a nurse running.
“Oh!” the nurse said, seeing Jo and Henri making out like teenagers, paying no attention to the machines whatsoever, each so happy that the other was safe, and that they were together, no matter what.
The next afternoon, Jo was in cottage number four, helping Marianne pack.
“I can’t believe I missed all the excitement,” Marianne said, not for the first time.
“Um, I think you were enjoying plenty of excitement right where you were,” said Jo, referring to the fact that while she was trying to keep flying stakes from hitting the vampire she loved, Marianne had been holed up at Thierry’s house, having wild sex and eating big meals, for four days straight.
“He didn’t even show up for work!” Jo said, laughing. “And Thierry always shows up for work, always. He practically lives at the stable. Or he used to!”
Marianne paused in her folding of clothes. “He is a good man, isn’t he?” she said dreamily.
“Look at you!” said Jo, with a note of triumph in her voice. “You are besotted!”
Marianne laughed. “Yes,” said. “Very happily besotted. You just wouldn’t believe what that man is capable of,” she said, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “And the food!” she added.
“Wait, you’ve got all the stuff hanging in the armoire left to pack,” said Jo, seeing Marianne zipping up her suitcase.
“I meant to ask you–is there someplace you could keep those?” said Marianne, blushing like a schoolgirl.
Jo grinned, waiting for her to explain.
“Thierry has asked me to come back and stay for a long visit, and I told him I would,” she said, unable to look like anything but the happiest woman on the planet. “I have no idea how it will all work out–my job, all the details of having a life in another country. But we are going to see….”
Jo sprang up, stopping short when her hurt side protested with a jolt of pain, then moving more gently, threw her arms around her friend.
“I’m so glad!” she said. “You know you mean more to me than I could ever say. Thierry is a great friend. And the best thing is, I get to have you right here in Mourency!”
“You’re never leaving, are
you?” asked Marianne.
“No,” said Jo, simply, and with great assurance. “I’ve found where I am meant to be, and I’m not leaving him, not ever.”
Later that night, Jo was in her room, dressing for dinner. She was excited as she rejected this dress and that pair of earrings, finally settling on a flaming red, tight dress that she had never had the courage to wear before.
The last few nights with Henri–nights spent in bed, touching each other, loving each other, carefully because of the wound in her side but emotionally, not careful at all, but full-out, open-hearted, holding nothing back–these nights had brought Jo to an awareness of herself that she had never gotten to before.
Now she understood that she had always kept something back, no matter how much she had been convinced of her love for some man. How she had always felt that her body needed protection, sheltering, and had never truly released herself, let herself fall, because she hadn’t had confidence that anyone would be there to catch her.
She had that confidence now.
Jo gave her hair one last brush until it shone in the low light of her bedroom, then tossed the brush on her bureau and went to look for Henri in the dining room.
In the large foyer, Angélique and Albert were waiting for some late guests to arrive. When she saw Jo, she beamed and threw her arms around her. “I’m so happy you’re all right,” she whispered in Jo’s ear. “And so glad you’re going to be staying on.”
“Same with me,” said Albert, grinning, and kissing her on both cheeks.
“Thank you!” said Jo, practically singing. “You know I love it here, and part of that is because you both have been wonderful,” she said.
She was anxious to see Henri, since he had been sleeping all day, resting up from their extremely vigorous time together.
Henri appeared in the doorway at just that moment, and opened his arms to her.
Jo had to force herself not to leap into his arms. Her side was still terrifically sore.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Jo, although she took Henri’s hand and held on tight. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to visiting Le Seigneur and Antoinette. But she was more than willing to do it because it meant so much to Henri.
They walked around the outside of the Château, breathing out plumes of vapor in the cold air. Before they got to the dungeon door, Henri stopped and turned Jo towards him.
“It’s funny for me to be in a hurry,” he said, with a light laugh, “because as you know, I have endless time ahead of me.” He hadn’t seen Jo in hours, and couldn’t resist leaning in and kissing her, next to her ear, in a place he had discovered was especially sensitive.
“But there’s something I want to ask you, and I can’t wait another minute.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against him.
Jo had a very good feeling that she knew exactly what he wanted to ask, and she was shocked to realize that finally, she was ready to hear it. Wanted to hear it.
Henri did not waste time but got right to it. “Will you stay in France, at least for a while, Jo?” he asked, his voice all gruff with emotion.
Jo laughed.
Henri’s face had about six expressions pass over it in quick succession–surprise, anger, hurt, wondering–and then, seeing how happy Jo was, and feeling how her arms stayed around him, holding tight, he started to laugh too.
“I just–oh Henri, I dove in front of a stake-launcher for you, yes, I’ll stick around awhile! But I just, I never thought I’d be with…a vampire,” she said, her voice full of incredulity and happiness, all at once. “That I would be so happy to be with a vampire, is what I meant to say,” she said, laughing some more, and grabbing his face and kissing him.
They stayed outside in the cold, kissing and murmuring to each other, for longer than either had intended. Eventually Henri said that his parents would be looking for them, and they began the unlocking of doors and the slow walk in the dark, down to the dungeon.
Jo was holding Henri’s hand as they entered the chamber.
“You are late!” le Seigneur cried.
“Good evening, Father,” said Henri. He walked first to his mother, who was curled up in her armchair with her feet tucked under her.
“Hello, son,” she said, her voice soft, but seeming to be aware, her mind clearer than it had been lately.
“I see you’ve brought her again,” said le Seigneur.
It sounded to Jo as though “her” was possibly a prize goat or something.
“Yes,” said Henri. “I have brought Jo, who is going to be staying here with us, at least a little while longer.”
There was silence in the dungeon. Dead silence. Jo could hear something creaking, somewhere, but that was all.
“Come here,” le Seigneur said to Jo.
She left Henri and walked up to le Seigneur. He reached for her hand and pulled her a step closer. Then with a great deal of difficulty, he stood up, and pressed his nose into Jo’s armpit and inhaled deeply, before she quickly stepped back out of reach, trying but not succeeding to hide her shuddering.
Jo looked at Henri with her eyebrows raised up so far they were practically climbing over the top of her head.
“Father!” said Henri. “You are not to touch her, or we will not visit you again.”
“Come here, child,” said Antoinette.
Jo walked to Henri’s mother, careful to give le Seigneur a wide berth.
Antoinette took Jo’s hand. It felt to Jo as though her hand was being held in a cage of bones–she could feel no flesh, really, just a lot of scaly bones holding her hand while Antoinette’s other hand stroked her arm. Jo took a deep breath to find some calm.
“Do you care for my boy?” she said, looking deep into Jo’s eyes. Her own eyes glowed faintly around the irises, which looked spooky in the very faint light of Henri’s flashlight.
“Yes,” said Jo, forthrightly, and perhaps a little too loudly.
Antoinette let go of Jo and put her hands over her ears. She began rocking her body slowly, and muttering something neither Jo nor Henri could quite make out.
“If this woman is going to be staying here indefinitely, she should join us fully,” said le Seigneur.
“We don’t need to discuss this right now,” said Henri.
“By fully,” said le Seigneur, turning to Jo, “I mean that you should be turned. You should be one of us. Like us.” Le Seigneur smiled at Jo then, and there was no question about it–his smile was way, way worse than his not smiling. She saw his fangs, fully down. She saw the bloodlust in his glowing eyes.
Henri stepped close to Jo and put a protective arm around her.
“There’s no danger,” he whispered, as quietly as he could.
“Danger of what?” said le Seigneur. “Danger of my ripping a wound across my chest and allowing your woman to suck me? Yes, there very much is a danger of that, my son,” he said, and actually cackled, like he was playing a role in a movie.
“Good night, Father,” said Henri, “and goodnight to you, Mother. I will be back at the usual time. I hope your night passes well.” And he pulled Jo along, towards the door and then through it. They hurriedly trotted up all the stairs, both of them yearning for some fresh air and some light.
When they got outside in the open air, they hugged again.
“Ah, parents, what are you gonna do?” said Jo.
Henri shook his head. “I am sorry,” he said simply. “At an earlier time, they were more…presentable. My mother was a wonderful lady, a noblewoman to admire. But now…” he trailed off.
“It’s never easy seeing your parents decline,” said Jo.
Henri shook his head. Then he reached his hand up to touch Jo’s face. “Of course, you would never ever want to go near my father,” he said. "But please–not now–but sometime–consider that if you were turned–your own decision of course, totally your own decision–the life we would have together will be so much longer.
“Nearl
y infinite,” he said, kissing her.
She kissed back, pouring all her affection, her admiration, her love for this man, this vampire, her Henri–into the kiss. She could not imagine, right now, leaving her human self behind for good, and changing to another species–a bloodsucking species!–not even for Henri.
But who knows, she thought, walking into the dining room, holding hands, excited to see what Marcel had prepared, having outdone himself by a factor of ten in his relief that Jo, and Callie, and the la Mottes were all okay.
Mushrooms were involved, slabs of beef, potatoes Anna, several reduction sauces–and Marcel had even invited in a pâtissier from the next village to help with dessert. Jo was going to have the best evening of her whole life, there at the table surrounded by Thierry and Marianne, Angélique and Albert, and even David, there at Château Gagnon of Mourency–a very festive and delicious meal with her beloved nest of vampires.
About the Author
Valerie du Sange has lived in France and wishes she still did. She is currently working on Book Two, which will be set in Paris and concern some of the characters herein. Book Three of the series will be set during the Middle Ages in the time of the Black Death.
You can email Valerie at [email protected], and read her blog at valeriedusange.com
If you enjoyed my book, please oh please do me the honor of leaving a review on amazon or goodreads. Indies depend on your support! Thank you!
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Unbitten Page 29