Born Into Love

by LaClaire, Catherine

  Luz opened a can falsely labeled “Sopa de Tomates,” tomato soup, packed from his hacienda. The scent of animal blood filled the room. His mouth contorted, fangs descended. The sounds that filled his sanctuary and tomb rivaled the snorting of a beast. As he had trained her, Luz turned her back. He gripped the bowl in both hands and fed. This nourishment did not register the same as having fresh bovine blood, but he survived on a combination of both.

  Afterwards, he dressed, strong enough to live another day and push out of his mind the horrific, primitive ritual that sent him so off course.

  Luz tapped her espadrilled foot. “Have you forgotten?”

  This game she played could be annoying. “Remind me.”

  “Your enemy—-who invited himself last week--will be here within the hour.”

  Remy. “He’s after something.”

  Luz nodded. “He’s after you. He thinks you’re a tomb robber like himself. If ever a human needed to be liquidated, it’s Señor Procteur.”

  “Not this century. Not by me.”

  She tsked. “According to what I read about . . .persons like yourself, persons of the noche sin fin, you’re supposed to be blood-thirsty. You don’t fit the mold.”

  Diego pulled her against his body. “Should I, as a member of the ‘night without end,’ sink fangs into your throat?”

  Her eyes watered with fear. “No, Master.”

  “Good. Something tells me you would not be a tasty wench.”

  She smiled with relief. “You were kidding.”

  “Maybe.” From time to time he confronted her because at heart, she was wilder than he was.

  The doorbell chimed. Luz smirked. “He’s leaning on the button just like he did at the Manhattan duplex.”

  “He is a gnat that needs swatting. Nevertheless, admit him por favor. He suspects me of many evil deeds and he is not entirely wrong.”

  Luz curtsied low in front of Remy playing at being obsequious. Even if he learned some of Diego’s secrets, he would never stumble upon Diego’s real identity. Who in this century would believe in a vampire?

  Luz yelled from the foyer setting off an echo. “Procteur’s here.” Diego smiled. Her maid-like behavior had been short-lived. Lured to a niche holding black glazed pottery, all well done but not artifacts, his visitor scanned them unaware that Luz stood behind him drawing a line across her throat marking him for removal.

  Diego escorted his guest into the sunroom--another way to measure if quenching his thirst with animal blood made him less susceptible to the rays. Today, like thousands of other days, success proved elusive. Were it not for modern creams, special clothing treated with concoctions made by Luz, and uniquely treated glass in sections of the house, the rays would pain him akin to a harpy’s talons scraping his bones.

  “Remy. Good of you to warn me you would be in the area.”

  “Am I noted for goodness?”

  “Possibly in some circles.” Not in the much-perused archives where he tried to steal several Spanish galleon manifests. Never would he be so forthright as to spend hours reading and taking notes like other treasure seekers. How he had avoided jail was a mystery. Bribery and threats ranked high on the list. “What can I do for you?”

  “How’s the exhibit? I hear you’re displaying new items, something of a surprise.”

  What was he talking about?

  “A reliable source told me Luz sent a special crate.” He waved his hand in the air like a magician might to distract his audience. “I haven’t been misled. Tell me about these mystery pieces, Diego. I hate to wait.” He raked his fair hair with a manicured hand. His fingers sported new rings. One, a ruby that Diego was sure came from a cache of jewels recently available in India.

  “Anticipation is part of the museum experience.”

  Remy strode around the room, playfully sniffed several of the blossoming plants. “Must be dead out here during the week. How do you stand it?”

  “I enjoy peace and solitude. There are other pleasures than bouncing around Manhattan clubs.”

  He studied one of the plants. The rare fascination lasted seconds. He refocused on Diego. “Can’t understand why you’re returning your collections. If you wanted to get rid of them, you should have sold them to me.”

  Motion on the dune drew their attention. Remy pressed his nose against the glass, leaving a greasy smear. He rubbed his hands together. “And who’s the babe kicking sand about her trim ankles?”

  If Diego’s heart could have moved, it would have spiraled down into the sea faster than a zodiac on a coral reef. Mercedes wore a black two-piece bathing suit, very modest compared to the swimwear he’d seen in Brazil or the Riviera, but her anatomy showed to its advantage. A few yards of gauzy material, tied with sufficient skill to stay in place, skirted her long, appealing legs. Her feet were bare. She had thrown a purple beach towel over one shoulder. He wished she were wrapped in a blanket.

  Remy snickered. “Peace and solitude. What a crock.”

  She must have felt their hungry eyes. She lifted a shapely arm and waved. Closer now, crimson tinted her cheeks. Her hair hung loose, a few strands lifted as the breeze rushed to her. Exactly what he felt like doing. Remy licked his thick lips. According to Luz and she was unable to lie to him, Procteur was a dung heap. Rumors of ugly physical abuse circulated among his former women.

  When Diego peered into his pale eyes, he saw a shallow, envious creature more ravenous than himself when the thirst rises.

  Diego signaled Mercedes to enter through the French doors of the sunroom. Remy removed his sport jacket. Diego suspect Remy knew the expensive blue shirt would play well with his eyes and his light tan. Would Mercedes prove susceptible? He did not want to add the pathetic addendum of “or will she stick with me?” But obviously, the thought crossed his mind.

  He made the introductions. Mercedes cocked her head and looked at his guest, but did not extend her hand.

  “Remy Procteur,” she repeated. “The treasure hunter?”

  He bowed and snaked his eyes toward Diego. “In the flesh.” Something disturbing hid in the deliberateness of his speech. Of his humanity, yes, Diego was jealous. Of his seedy nature, he was not.

  “So, Diego, this is why you find the beach so enticing.” Remy’s watery gaze lingered too long on Mercedes. Her hand fisted and her assessing eyes glinted with anger. She looked beautiful.

  “What kind of work do you do, Mercedes?”

  He said her name as if he wanted to claim it for salvage.

  “I’m interning at the Pascuas Museum in Manhattan as a fledgling. Before that, I worked as a broker.”

  He grinned, resembling a wolf more than Diego ever could. “You’ve started?”

  “Tomorrow.” She gave a charming nervous laugh. “I’m looking forward to meeting and working with the staff. Doing their bidding, actually.”

  “If you need anything, call me. I’m in the book. I have connections there.”

  Diego stepped in. “No need. I’m on the board.” Remy ignored his comment, but Mercedes squared her shoulders not about to let either one of them get the upper hand.

  “Gentlemen, I don’t anticipate problems. I’m conscientious and I intend to do a good job. If I have any questions, I’ll ask the curator. She seems very approachable.”

  Remy laughed. “Say no more! I’m convinced. Will you live in Manhattan?”

  Mercedes shook her head. “Eventually, but not now. When the summer’s over, I’ll find an apartment.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re commuting?”

  Diego moved alongside her perhaps to fool Remy into thinking they formed a solid front. “She will be traveling with me.” He took her arm, and felt smugly pleased when she did not jump away. Even her fists unclenched. He refocused on Remy. “Thanks for the visit, but as you can see, I have another engagement. We will continue our chat at the exhibit opening night.”

  Remy rolled athletic shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it.” He paused at the threshold of the home. “Maybe next
time we can all go for a swim.”

  Luz, sulking, escorted him to his limousine. Diego brought Mercedes into the largest of the enclosed gardens. Rows of strategically placed outer shrubs hid it from the beach and the paved country road that passed the front of their houses. “There is something I want you to see.” She followed him into the conservatory where the contents of the sheltered area did all the talking.

  “So many orchids!” She walked through a row. “Different sizes in wonderful colors.” Her expression reinforced her delight. “They’re spectacular.”

  She moved to the tiny orchid he’d glimpsed in an Andean quebrada, a crevice. “It’s a blend of purple and periwinkle. Stunning.”

  “That is what I thought.”

  “Did you raise it?”

  “No. I am not a professional. La Desconocida, the orchid’s name, is shipped from a botanical company in South America.”

  “The Unknown Woman.”

  “Your grasp of Spanish pleases me.”

  “I’ll be better when I memorize the dictionary.”

  The tropical temperature in the room brought a coat of moisture to her skin. “Let’s refresh ourselves in the pool.”

  * * *

  As enjoyable as the orchids were, Mercedes sensed she’d arrived at the wrong time—-that Diego’s visitor had not been a friend. “Did I interrupt a meeting?”

  She and Diego paused in front of the huge white marble staircase. “No.”

  “I got the feeling Mr. Procteur fancies hunting or just plain snooping.” She looped the long beach towel around her neck to cover her. Instantly she felt more comfortable. She should have done that before Remy tried to devour her. “Maybe I should have worn more clothes.”

  “You were not the problem. I doubt you ever could be.” Diego touched her cheek. “Let me change.”

  “Good. I don’t like to swim alone.” Had her response sounded casual? Probably not.

  He called down from the top of the stairs. “Luz, escort our guest to the pool and bring refreshments.”

  The girl appeared before Mercedes could blink. Her bronzed skin glistened as if newly moisturized. Her dark hair had been ambushed by some kind of coloring fiend. She wore a toga-like outfit, gold sandals and several metal rings in her eyebrow.

  “Follow me.”

  Mercedes ached with curiosity. She wanted to know the girl’s age. “Have you worked for Diego long?”

  Luz tugged the sliding doors open. “Many years.” The girl laughed. “I look younger than I am.”

  Mercedes sensed Luz served as the perfect assistant and not likely to supply information, but she pried anyway. “What’s your secret?”

  “Magic.”

  Mercedes laughed. “Good one. Don’t tell the cosmetics companies. They’ll go berserk.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Please follow me. I’ll show you to a cabana.”

  Mercedes hadn’t brought much gear. She glanced inside the eight-by-eight cabin that had nothing in common with back yard equipment sheds not with designer cushions and a skylight.

  “I’ll return with iced tea. Is that all right?”

  “Yes. Thanks.” Mercedes sucked in her tummy and stepped outside. Diego waited in the shaded corner of the pool.

  “How is your sister?”

  The question seemed out of context until Mercedes realized they were not alone. Luz delivered her beverage and Annie provided a conversational link. “They’re releasing her, but she’s got to stay off her feet.”

  “And the blood tests?”

  “Dr. Mendez’s coming to the house tomorrow morning with the results. I need to be there.”

  “Good. You put family first.”

  Mercedes removed her towel, but kept her gaze on the terrazzo surrounding the pool. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Luz as she nodded to Diego and returned to the house.

  “What time will the doctor arrive?”

  “Eight. He has rounds, so he’s fitting us in.”

  “It is unusual that he would come to the house. Is he a friend of the family?”

  “Yes. My Aunt Louise’s buddy.”

  “Have you notified the museum?”

  “The curator knows. She’s okay with my late arrival.”

  “You are flying into Manhattan with me, remember? We will not be too late.”

  “You were serious?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m not used to luxuries.”

  “May I remind you that even wealthy people, who seem to have it all, can have bad days.”

  “Easier to think your lives are perfect.” She studied his face but her thoughts wandered. If her bones turned to rubber twenty feet away, what chance did restraint have close to the source? “Why are you going to the museum?”

  “They say they want my input, but they are being polite. It’s a mere courtesy. My offer of a ride still holds.”

  Mercedes ditched the hip wrap and walked to the steps leading into the shimmering blue water. “I don’t think you should trust Remy.”

  “I agree. He is not an amigo.”

  Bubbles skimmed her legs from the jets on the side of the pool. She dove into the water even though inching her way with shrieking had worked well in the past. She surfaced three feet from her host.

  When she stood, her eyes came level with his chin. She wiped her face with her hands and anchored her dripping hair behind her ears. Diego’s broad chest, nicely shaded by dark hair on taut muscles, made her want to throw her arms around him. A B-52 could land on his shoulders. Muscles that for sure had spent time lifting weights. “If I come to your pool on other days, I hope I won’t find Procteur here.”

  “Trust me. You will be spared his company.” Diego smiled and Mercedes wanted to rush to him.

  Why allow this absurd, sudden attraction? Because it’d been a long time since she found someone with real appeal? Someone with character?

  Diego pointed to the end of the pool. “Race you.”

  “You’re on.” She lunged forward and pulled into a tight crawl. Diego splashed by her side until he left her in a bubbling wake.

  Seconds too late she pulled alongside him. “Hey! That’s not neighborly.”

  “I hope you will forgive me.”

  She tried to stand in water that was too deep... She latched onto the side, her breath coming in rapid gasps. “I guess you’ve had a lot of practice.”

  “I have always been a strong swimmer. I had to be. I spent a lot of time on the ocean.”

  Her breath normalized. “I figured you’d say something like that. I’ve got a practical nature too. That’s something we share.”

  He indicated the aluminum ladder. “Had enough?”

  “Yes. I really just wanted to cool off.” Who was she kidding? Her insides shifted like magma. She glanced at her watch. “Annie’s being released at seven.”

  “Tonight?”

  “The doctor insisted she stay until she had three meals and no complications. I’m picking her up.”

  He swung closer to the ladder sending a wave onto her chest. Diego gripped the metal rails demonstrating great muscles in action. “I’ll climb out first, that way I won’t stare at you as you climb.”

  She laughed. “How do you know I won’t stare at you?”

  “Maybe I know you will and that’s what I want.”

  She waved her hand at him. “Go, before my lips turn blue.”

  He waited for her to join him on the tiled surround. “Forgive me for racing with you. But you were too dazzling in the water. Had we stayed, I might have been even less gentlemanly.” He held her towel for her and would have used it on her back, but she wasn’t ready for that so she did the honors.

  “I think you’re dry now.”

  Mercedes nodded. “I’ve got to leave.”

  He stepped closer and whispered into her hair, “Hearing you say that even once is too often. I will drive you to the hospital. Annie will be more comfortable in my car.”

  * * *

 
Bearing in mind her special needs, Diego buckled Annie into the passenger seat. Mercedes settled in the back, too quiet. While the sisters conversed, his thoughts flew to a memory of another girl days from giving birth. Her evil father had sacrificed him to their vampire god. In return she witnessed the death of her village at his hands and the demise of both her father and their vampire ruler.

  But Tala’s pleading eyes had cut into his rage. And for a moment, his humanity overcame his hatred. He allowed her to flee with her growing womb into the waiting jungle. Days later he found her gift next to his jungle pallet.

  The remaining years of the sixteenth century were savagely dark and endlessly mean. All brought on by his desires. In the seventeenth, he still lived off human blood, but carried guilt.

  Mercedes tapped his shoulder. “Diego, you can turn here for a shortcut, if you want.”

  “Thank you. You make a good co-pilot.”

  “Are you worried about the exhibit?”

  “No.”

  Annie sighed. “I’ve been in bed twenty-four hours, but I’m exhausted.”

  Diego pulled into Mercedes’ driveway. Shells crunched under the weight of the car. “Let me carry you.”

  Annie laughed. “And get a herniated disk?”

  Mercedes opened the door. “You’ve done enough. You made everything easier. How can I thank you?”

  “Ride with me in the helicopter tomorrow.” In the gentling of her posture he saw that she would relent.

  “You win. I surrender.”

  He wanted to stay with them, but would be intruding and without looking at his watch, his thirsting body told him how the rest of his evening would evolve. How long, he wondered, would it be before Mercedes realized he was not what he seemed?

  * * *

  Luz greeted him as he pulled into the garage. “Master, you must be hungry. Should I prepare a bowl from our supply?”

  “No, tonight I have other plans.”

  “Master, may I speak?”