by J S Hazzard
I stopped in my tracks. “Are you serious?”
He held up a hand in warning. “I’m serious in the sense that what I said is possible. That doesn’t mean Eggplant will be inclined to make the attempt, or that she’s capable of succeeding even if she tried. That said, her behavior leaves me with many questions. Had she wanted Dominic dead, she could have snapped his neck instantly. If her goal was to feed, she could have knocked Dominic unconscious and carried him away without wasting a drop of his blood.”
The vampire lifted a shoulder. “The fact that she took Dominic with her seems to suggest that he holds an unknown purpose for her, and that is the best hope your friend has. However, if Dominic is still alive, the quickest way to make him a burden to his captor is to broadcast his disappearance. The more people looking for him and asking questions, the more likely Eggplant is to get rid of him. And on top of that, if Dominic tells anyone in the cities of your patronage activities, things could go very badly for the both of you.”
I sank back onto my chair and the vampire followed suit. “I understand, but I’ll go crazy if I do nothing. At the very least there must be information I can give you.”
The vampire considered this. “I already have considerable knowledge of Dominic Carriero, having known his family for some time. However, if we’re to work together, perhaps we should get better acquainted. It has been many years since I’ve spent time with a human who knew me for what I am.”
My snort escaped before I could stop it. “You’re still far ahead of me. Unless I count Eggplant you’re the first vampire I’ve met.”
“Well then.” He seemed pleased. “You must have even more questions than I. On the principle of ladies first, would you like to begin?”
Like any human outside the cities, I’d spent hours speculating about vampires and how they lived. With more notice (and a bit more sleep) I’m sure I could have articulated an impressive and thought provoking question. Instead, circumstances being what they were, I blurted—almost accusingly—“Did you decorate this room to match your eyes?”
My patron stared and I wondered if there was even the tiniest chance I hadn’t spoken aloud. And then he started laughing.
It wasn’t the crazed laughter I’d exhibited earlier, but it came close. He all but gasped as he repeated my words. “Did… I… match my… eyes!” It was clearly the funniest thing he’d heard in years and my cheeks began to burn with embarrassment.
After he finished, he pressed a hand to his waist and I wondered if he truly had a stitch in his side or was merely remembering the sensation from his human life. Either way, he looked delighted. “That was such an excellent beginning I’ll let you ask the second question as well, Aurora.”
Well, well, well. I’d gone from Miss Aurora to Aurora. Emboldened, I shook my head. “I can’t ask a second question. You’ve yet to answer my first one.”
That set him off all over again and I congratulated myself. All of my current dilemmas could only benefit from this vampire’s cooperation. Far better for him to see me as a charming novelty than a burden requiring elimination.
Then he surprised me by answering. “No, I did not decorate the room to match my eyes. I brought the fireplace here and decorated the room around it. The fact that it matches is merely an aesthetically pleasing coincidence. However,” his eyes danced, “I will admit the craftsperson who constructed the fireplace did select the jade because of my eyes.”
It was genuine jade. Big surprise. “Do I still get a second question or is it your turn now?”
“I can’t imagine you topping the first one, but go ahead. But then I get two in a row,” he decided.
“A reasonable offer,” I said. “Okay, to facilitate a more productive dialogue, I’ll use my second question to ask what you’d like to be called.” His first name would put us on more even footing, but even if he ordered me to call him ‘sir’, it would still make for easier conversation.
He looked disappointed in my pedestrian question, but answered nonetheless. “Over my lifetime I’ve had many names, but you may call me Ian if I may address you as Aurora.”
I agreed and he continued. “My turn. Why are you here, Aurora?”
He waited intently as I attempted to frame my answer in a way that would keep Nicky in the best possible light. “Dominic is one of my oldest friends—”
“Friends?” he interrupted. I didn’t think he meant it in a lurid sense, but I took offense anyway and glared. So much for the best possible light.
“Yes! Friends! And you should know that better than anyone because you noticed the change in my blood from its previous delivery last week!”
He held up his hands. “I meant no offense, but that still doesn’t explain why Dominic brought you here.”
“Nicky wanted to take me scavenging and we stopped here on the way. I don’t know whether he’d thought of it before our parents left—”
“You two are brother and sister?!” The vampire looked revolted and I didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him. Then I remembered how ineffective smacking had been and opted for laughter with a healthy dose of exasperation.
“We are not brother and sister,” I said emphatically. “I meant ‘our’ parents, referring to his father and my mother. They recently went traveling together and my first day alone ended in disaster. Nicky thought scavenging might cheer me up.”
Ian considered that and then brightened. “His father and your mother… That would make you Eleanor Strong’s daughter. That explains a lot.”
“Care to elaborate?” I was intrigued.
“Well, on top of explaining your continued requests for rare office equipment it explains a great deal about you—your education, your intelligence, your enthusiasm for learning, your curiosity. You must have had an extraordinary upbringing. There’s an amazing open-mindedness to you. It’s delectable.”
“Oh. Well, thanks, I guess.” I wasn’t used to my upbringing being praised, but the context was too damn weird to be flattering.
“At any rate, our visit was meant to be relaxing, but it’s gone rather drastically off track.” My voice cracked and I swallowed hard in an effort to ward back tears. Crying for Nicky wouldn’t do a damn thing for him now, but cooperation might. I could cry later, assuming I lived that long.
“So,” I said determinedly, attempting a small smile. “That was technically three questions, which means the next is mine.”
I asked who Eggplant was and how she’d entered without an invitation. (That should’ve counted as two questions, but he didn’t call me on it.) Ian explained that since he lived here, he required no invitation and that the rules of invitation didn’t apply to vampire occupied dwellings. However, I’d been right. Eggplant wouldn’t have been able to enter the guest bedroom as opposed to the common living room.
He claimed not to know Eggplant and I believed him. Not only had he appeared sincerely surprised, but it would be stupid to harm the son and heir of an important business associate—biting the veins that fed him, as it were.
And so it went, back and forth.
He said he didn’t live in the cities because he found the restrictions stifling and annoying, and I told him the mandatory blood donations tempered any urge I had to experience city life.
He informed me he needed minimal blood to survive and that he’d lived exclusively on my contributions over the last few years. In return I told him I felt little guilt about being a blood benefactor.
“I began to help my mother, which balanced any guilt I felt. Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been a pillar of the community.”
“Because of your mother’s book?”
“Partially.” I had no intention of mentioning the banishment petition.
I’m not sure how long we went back and forth, but Ian listened to my answers as carefully as I did to his. The only question he refused to answer was his age, and the only time I balked was when he asked whether I was in love with Nicky.
It would have been a rude question at
any time, but was particularly deplorable today. And that concluded our Q & A.
Though exhausted, I denied it when Ian asked if I wanted to sleep. I’d been yawning throughout the conversation, but he was too polite to contradict me. Instead, he asked if I’d like to watch a movie, which received as coherent a yes as my current capabilities allowed. If nothing else, a movie might keep me awake while we waited.
I stopped trying to memorize my way around when I remembered I couldn’t open the doors, but Ian led me to a living room. The room—sky blue with silver crown molding—had little decoration beyond the television screens that covered an entire wall.
He picked up a remote and turned the screens on. “My collection is digital. You can scroll through and pick whatever you like.”
I was too overwhelmed to look and accepted with relief when he offered to choose. With a few clicks, Ian selected the first Harry Potter film and settled onto a silvery brocade armchair with his cell phone, leaving the blue leather sofa for me. According to him, each Harry Potter movie lasted more than two hours. All I had to do was stay awake through two movies before the sun would rise and Ian would need to sleep.
Hopefully I’d have a brainstorm before then.
CHAPTER TEN
I am in no way a morning person, so it was a rare treat to wake up rested and refreshed. Then the memories of last night returned, like a brick dropping on my chest.
The last thing I remembered was Ron Weasley being stabbed off his stone horse during a life-sized game of wizard chess. I also remembered speaking with my newly introduced vampire patron, Ian, and though I’d vowed to stay awake my exhaustion had triumphed.
The good news was that despite my lax behavior I’d lived to see another day. My patron had even brought me a blanket after I’d crashed. I stretched my hands in an attempt to get my bearings, moving my fingers an inch at a time toward the edge.
I couldn’t reach the edge of the sofa, but the fabric beneath me felt so comforting I was tempted to embrace denial and pretend I was still home in bed.
Wait a minute. Fabric? The sofa had been leather. Shit. Further groping confirmed it. I hadn’t slept on a leather sofa. I’d slept in Ian’s velvet covered bed—the enormous work of art I’d admired yesterday.
I began clutching my clothes in a panic. Sweatshirt—check. Jeans—check. Shoes… No shoes. Had I been wearing shoes? I couldn’t remember.
Not that I had any reason to worry about my clothes, I reassured myself. Given the nature of the appeal I held for Ian my virginity faced less threat here than it did at home. And it wasn’t much pursued there either.
Slightly reassured, I began inching across the bed. It took a while, but eventually I reached the edge and worked my legs from beneath the covers. As soon as my feet touched the floor the fireplace leapt to life and I squeaked in embarrassed surprise.
“I wondered when you’d awaken.” Ian sat in the same chair he’d used previously, the one facing the fire. His expression was lost in shadow but he sounded eager, which made exactly one of us.
“What the hell, were you watching me sleep?”
He turned to face me, visible annoyance stamped on his face in the firelight. “Not to point out the obvious, but you’re in my bedroom and there are things I need in here. Also, this happens to be my favorite chair. However, to answer your question, no, I did not sit here for hours watching you sleep. I slept a few hours and then left to retrieve Dominic’s vehicle. I also wanted to procure something other than frozen food, on the assumption that you’d be hungry.”
“Anything else I should be aware of?” My sarcasm sailed visibly over Ian’s head and he answered me seriously.
“There is. After you fell asleep I checked the security footage.”
His words sucked the air out of my lungs and I dropped onto the other chair as I spoke. “Security footage? You mean from cameras? If everything from yesterday was recorded, why didn’t you watch it immediately?”
Ian shook his head, visibly conserving his patience. “No. When a guest enters with a door code, it deactivates the inside cameras for privacy. However, no guest has the authority to alter the outside cameras and there’s a digital record of the front exit.”
“Whatever it is, say it quickly.” I couldn’t handle a suspenseful delivery.
“Well,” he murmured as I whimpered, “the good news is that he was still moving. Unfortunately, the upper portion of his shirt was soaked…” His voice faded as he gestured to his own torso.
“Never mind, I get the idea.” I hugged my knees to my body and closed my eyes before the picture could form.
“Aurora, I’ll do everything I can to return him to you and Luigi, regardless of the circumstances.”
I couldn’t bring myself to speak of such ‘circumstances’. If I acknowledged his words, I’d shatter. I couldn’t even open my eyes as I responded, “Is there anything else, anything at all?”
“Yes, but it’s only a small thing in the interest of full disclosure,” he hastily assured me as my eyes opened and fired in fear. “Your nightmares kept waking me so I willed them to pleasant, innocuous dreams. By the way, do you know you sometimes snore?”
He tacked the last bit on as an afterthought while I gaped.
“Only when I’m tired,” I finally muttered. Then I wanted to slap myself. My response was so inadequate I didn’t know where to begin criticizing it. For one thing, I only snored the tiniest bit and only when at an extreme sleep deficit. And why did I care whether this obsessive compulsive vampire had heard me snore? Surely this was a non-issue under the circumstances.
With a Herculean effort, I shook the remaining sleep from my head. I vaguely recalled dreams of kittens and flowers, subjects apparently deemed ‘innocuous and pleasant’ by Ian. Before last night, I’d never dreamed of either one.
At least I was still dressed, I consoled myself. As long as I was clothed, I still looked like I had a semblance of control. Besides, despite it being a new day, the do not antagonize rule remained in effect. Assuming it was daytime.
That became my first order of business and I inquired about the time in an attempt at normalcy. In response, Ian lifted a shoulder and gestured to a grandfather clock near the bed. I hadn’t heard anything, so the chimes were clearly deactivated.
The brass hands showed half past eight, and I deduced it was 8:30 at night by the brass moon currently showing on the clock face. I’d slept through the entire day. With that established, I turned back to my host, looking at him politely. “What happens now?”
He leaned forward, lacing his fingers except for his thumbs and forefingers, which he pressed together. “You have some decisions to make.”
Bit of an understatement, but I declined to press the point. “As my host, do you have a preference as to which decision I make first?”
His face brightened. “Now that you mention it, yes. You slept for nearly fifteen hours and must be starving. Why don’t you tell me what you’d like for breakfast? Or would you prefer dinner?”
I resisted the urge to smack my head against the fireplace mantle only by reminding myself of my current and numerous bruises.
Which were no longer there.
I examined my unblemished hands and looked at Ian suspiciously.
He dropped his gaze and muttered, “It seemed only fair to remove them, since I did cause them. I have to say, I hadn’t realized the extent of the damage, especially to your legs and your, uh…” He trailed off as he realized his error. If possible, he turned another shade whiter as I leapt up.
“How would you know about my legs?” I yelped indignantly. So much for having remained clothed.
He jumped up so fast he stood upright before my brain had acknowledged the movement, holding his hands as if to ward off my wrath. “Some of your dreams were painful, due to your injuries. And after I healed your wrists and throat where I had grabbed them, I realized there were more, but I couldn’t see everything…”
“Do you like pancakes?” he concluded som
ewhat desperately. “I have everything necessary to make pancakes!”
The absurdity of my situation caught up with me. I’d spent the night fleeing one vampire who’d kidnapped and possibly killed my friend, then being observed by another. Ian had stripped me down, healed me up, redressed me, tucked me into bed and made me dream of kittens and daffodils. And now he wanted to cook pancakes.
Despite everything, the humor was hard to miss.
“Pancakes would be fine,” I said graciously and he led me to his stainless steel masterpiece of a kitchen—complete with adjoining laundry room.
Watching Ian cook was a surprise. His pancakes trounced any I could have made, full of blackberries and drowned in syrup and melted butter. My mood vastly improved after eating, which had probably been Ian’s plan all along.
The real mystery was why he cared about my mood to begin with.
Once full, I reassessed the situation. As if sensing my change of mood, Ian made short work of the cleanup and settled down across the table from me.
“Okay.” I spoke slowly, as if the extra time would make my predicament more manageable. “My biggest concern is finding Nicky, followed by how to get home and what to do once I get there.”
Ian nodded solemnly. “Getting you home is the easiest. If it is your wish, I could return you to your square within five minutes, but you need a plan. Besides, the sun has set and you would be locked out,” he noted practically.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “I need to decide what to say and to whom—wait, did you say five minutes?”
His shoulder jerked as if it was no big deal. “Five minutes for you. Returning the truck will take considerably longer, but I am unsure what explanation works if you return with Dominic’s truck and no Dominic.”
Tears welled and I dug my nails into my palms as he continued.
“Sometimes it helps to say the options aloud. Start babbling and let’s see what comes out.” I was relieved enough at his implied assistance to not pick a fight over the word ‘babbling’.
“Well, Nicky is frequently gone for days at a time, so he won’t be missed for a few days. The only person who knows we left together is my best friend, and even she won’t expect us to return together.” I thought briefly of Amy and felt a throb of longing to see her, even as Ian furrowed his eyebrows in disapproval.