Eternal Beloved

by Bella Abbott

  The hosts, two gorgeous women and a middle-aged man with a friendly face, welcomed the audience back from break and launched into their bit.

  “Everyone, we have a special surprise this morning. One of the hottest singers in music just dropped into the studio, and he agreed to chat for a few minutes! Maybe if we twist his arm, he’ll even sing us one of his songs?” The audience cheered on cue, and one of the women stood and looked to the side of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only…Jared!”

  The crowd went nuts, and I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee as Jared strode in from off camera and waved at the audience, his grin electric. More squeals and female shrieks of adoration echoed from the television, and I pushed the last of my eggs away and set my fork down, the better to enjoy Jared’s performance.

  The hosts welcomed him and he took a seat where they indicated.

  “Well, Jared! This is a thrill! You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” one of the hostesses gushed. I instantly hated her when she slid closer to him.

  “You know the saying. Idle hands,” he said with a grin.

  “You’re off the road now and working on a new album, right?” the other hostess asked.

  Jared nodded. “That’s right. Should be out in about six months, give or take.”

  “Millions of fans can hardly wait. And I’m one of your biggest,” the first hostess said.

  Jared offered the viewers an aw, shucks smile. There was no denying that the camera loved him.

  “And, Jared,” the male host cut in, “is it true that you’re starring in a movie?”

  He nodded again. “That’s right. We’re filming as we speak.”

  “What’s that like?” the second hostess asked.

  “It’s a real thrill. My co-stars are awesome to work with, and the director’s a genius.”

  “Can you give us a hint as to what it’s about?”

  Jared shrugged. “It’s a romantic comedy. Boy meets girl and BFF. Hilarity ensues.”

  The first hostess gave a completely fake laugh that sounded like a donkey braying. “You’re so funny, Jared! I’m sure it’ll be a huge hit. I’ll be first in line – unless you want to invite me to an advance screening,” she said with a wink. The audience woohooed at the obvious innuendo, and my dislike of the woman ratcheted up several notches. If she was acting, she deserved an Academy Award. And I didn’t think she was that talented.

  “Well…” Jared said, letting his voice trail off.

  “Speaking of which, what’s going on in your love life?” the second hostess cut in. “You’ve been linked with a string of starlets and singers. Is there anyone special occupying your time?”

  Jared smiled. “Don’t believe everything you read. I mostly hang out at home, reading or working on music.”

  “You were named one of the top ten bachelors of the year by Seven magazine recently,” the male host said. “I have a feeling being young, rich, and single doesn’t suck, does it?”

  Another smile. “It has its benefits,” Jared conceded, and my heart sank. Even though I knew he was putting on an act, his not mentioning that he was seeing someone hurt like a knife to the gut.

  “If you’re going to be in New York for a while, I have some free time,” the first hostess said.

  “Me too,” the second chimed in.

  “Me three,” the male host quipped, and the audience roared with laughter.

  After the hubbub died down, the first hostess placed a hand on Jared’s thigh and leaned into him. “Jared, I’m hoping I can convince you to play a song for us. I know I’m not the only one who’d do just about anything to hear you sing.”

  “If you can find a guitar, I’d be happy to,” he agreed.

  The male host perked up. “Well, we have something better than that, Jared. Someone you know was in one of the other studios, and our stage manager convinced her to come help you with your song! Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Lindsey Voss!”

  More clapping and cheers, and a striking brunette with legs that went to her chin, wearing black vinyl pants, a yellow top, and dominatrix heels, strutted onto the set with an acoustic guitar. I nearly choked on my coffee when she plopped down beside Jared, she and the hostess bookending him, a smile of contentment on his face.

  “How you been, Jared?” she purred, her voice husky and full.

  “Just fine, Lindsey. You’re looking good,” he said.

  “You too, Jared. Better than ever.”

  She strummed the guitar, and then they launched into a song, she taking the harmonies on the chorus while Jared sang the verses. My cheeks were burning through the performance, and my fingers moved to my neck as Jared and Lindsey serenaded each other on national television. The camera closed in on them, and I was struck by how beautiful she was, how flawless her features were, and how bright her eyes. A pang of despair lanced through me at the sight of them singing, obviously bonded. What was I doing in a hotel room with Jared? I wasn’t anything like Lindsey. She was magazine perfect, as were the hostesses, both of whom would have stopped traffic anywhere in the world, both clad in designer clothes. And here I was with my blotchy neck and plain features and hick ways. Who was I kidding?

  I tried to shake off the doubts as they finished the song, and rose to shut off the TV. I’d seen enough to last a lifetime. I tried to talk myself down from the sadness flooding through me, and I nearly succeeded. I reminded myself that I was Jared’s reincarnated soul mate. Beautiful faces came and went. I was making a mountain out of nothing – Jared was acting and flirting for the cameras. It was his job, and of course he would make it look convincing. I was completely overreacting to a nonevent.

  All logical and true, but the niggle of doubt that remained felt like a poisoned seed inside me, threatening to grow until it blossomed. Jared said we were soul mates – but who exactly was we? While I’d only known Jared a short time, whatever it felt like, his memories of me went back hundreds of years – to someone else who had loved lobster and apparently preferred panthers to horses.

  I padded to the bathroom and frowned at my reflection, mentally contrasting myself with Lindsey’s charismatic glow. She couldn’t have been much older than me, and she was already a star in her own right, a knockout, talented, and charming as they came. And what was I? I couldn’t sing to save my life, I felt awkward most of the time, and I hadn’t accomplished anything but earn a scholarship to a bridge school in the middle of nowhere. What could Jared possibly see in me? Other than the ghost of a reincarnated being who felt like a competitor to the real me right now.

  My gaze drifted to a plastic easel by the soaps, where the spa’s many enticements were displayed. I remembered Jared telling me I should get a massage, and steeled myself.

  “Might as well. Probably never going to be at the Plaza again,” I murmured, and moved back into the suite to make an appointment. To my surprise, the attendant said to come right down, that they had a free masseuse available and would prepare a table for me.

  I took the elevator to the spa, where a heavyset woman greeted me with a professional smile and led me to the massage rooms. A Thai masseuse explained the process to me, and after I undressed, she went to work on my back, each prod and knead eliciting groans. I tried to let my dark thoughts drift away, but they lingered like a bad smell throughout the massage. No matter how I tried, the little voice in my head that always skeptically evaluated things was working overtime, pointing out that what Jared apparently had loved best about me were things I couldn’t even remember. Hadn’t actually experienced.

  When the masseuse finished with me, I still felt anxious and a little depressed, even if my muscles were relaxed. I signed the bill, adding a generous tip, and returned to the room, lost in thought.

  Jared was sitting by the window when I opened the door, and looked up at me with a worried expression. “Where were you?”

  “I got a massage. Your suggestion, remember?” I paused and pulled the door shut behind me. “I saw the show. You were
great. So was Lindsey.”

  “Thanks. She sang on the record. That was my first real breakout hit. I sort of rode her popularity, but it worked.” He paused, studying me. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

  I sighed. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him I’d been comparing myself to women on television. And in the past. “It’s just…it’s going to take some adjustment to get used to your lifestyle, Jared. I…I don’t know if I can do it.”

  He rushed to me and took me in his arms. “Of course you can,” he said. “You’re probably still in shock from everything that’s happened. I would be, too…”

  Jared didn’t have to say “if I were mortal.” It was the elephant in the room.

  “It’s just hard, Jared,” I said, my head against his chest. “Everything’s so different. All of this. A couple of days ago my biggest problem was waking up in time for class, and now…I’m in New York with you, I’m trying to come to grips with the idea that I’m a reincarnated vampire, I’m hanging out with a millionaire rock star, and there are hunters after us.” I sighed. “You have to admit it would throw most people off balance.”

  He pushed me back, studied my face with his incredible blue eyes, and grinned impishly as his expression lit up. “I have an idea! We’re in New York, as you said. What do people do when they’re in New York?”

  My forehead scrunched. “I don’t know. Eat bagels? Go to Times Square or the Empire State Building? Remember, I’ve never been…”

  He shook his head emphatically and retrieved his sunglasses from his jacket. “Nope.”

  “Then what?”

  He took my hand and glanced around the room. “They go shopping.”

  Chapter 25

  The sidewalk was teeming with humanity, the air hot and muggy. Thousands of city dwellers roamed the streets, walking with the particular urgency of their kind even if only out for a stroll. Jared wore his baseball cap and sunglasses and a healthy application of sunscreen. I felt like an alien; all the other girls my age were in short shorts or summer dresses, while I was still wearing my Docs and black jeans.

  We walked over a grid in the sidewalk, and he slowed and cocked his head. “Hear that?”

  “No. What?”

  “Subway. A few stories below us. You’ll be able to feel the hot air being pushed in front of the train come up through the grate when it arrives in the station.”

  I listened, and after a moment I heard a low roar below, and then a gust of hot wind blew up at us, as predicted.

  “Have you ever been on the subway?” I asked.

  “Not since before the war,” he said. “World War Two, that is.”

  “Ah,” I replied. He would have been helpful to have by my side in history class!

  We walked to Columbus Circle and then downtown. A store caught Jared’s eye, and he pulled me inside. “Let’s get a bag for the clothes we’re going to buy.”

  “How much are you thinking we’re getting?” I countered.

  “I don’t know. Let’s say enough for…a week?”

  My eyes widened. “You really think…?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s better to have too much than too little. And we’re in New York, after all.” He inspected a black duffel bag with wheels. “That looks like it would hold a decent amount.”

  I checked the price and blanched. “I could live for a month on what that costs.”

  Jared pursed his lips. “Doesn’t matter. Do you like it?”

  “I suppose.” I was a little unused to impulse buying.

  He signaled to a clerk, a severe-looking woman in head-to-toe black, and tapped the bag. “One of these, please.”

  “Of course. Just a moment and I’ll get one from the back.”

  The woman returned with the bag when we were at the counter, and Jared paid with a credit card. I watched him scribble his name and whispered to him, “Aren’t you afraid the hunters might track you?”

  “New York’s a big place. By the time they could learn I was here, which is a long shot, we’ll be gone. Assuming they didn’t catch me on TV an hour ago and figure out where the studio is.” He waited for the receipt and pocketed it. “But it’s not like these people are the CIA, Lacey. They’re individuals. Usually fringe cases, considered nuts by most. I mean, think about it. What would be your first reaction to learning someone was a vampire hunter?”

  “Until now?” I rolled my eyes. “Crazy train.”

  “Exactly. I’m not worried.”

  Jared’s point was somewhat reassuring, but I was still uneasy. And his statement that I could be away from school a week was troubling. I couldn’t lose my scholarship. It was fine for him to be so breezy about everything – he was a star, whereas I had to scrape just to make ends meet. I debated calling him on it, but decided it could wait till later.

  Jared had the clerk clip the tags off the bag, and then shouldered it. “Ready to find some clothes?”

  “I still have the stuff from Maine at the hotel…”

  He took my hand. “That’s garbage. We’re headed to Bloomingdale’s. They’ll have anything you can imagine, and then some.”

  “I thought my clothes were fine,” I said. And after all, I had chosen them myself.

  “They are, but you deserve better,” he declared with finality.

  We walked several blocks, and then he flagged down a taxi. “Sorry, but I’d rather stay out of the sun. It’s pretty bright today, even with the glasses,” he explained.

  “I’m getting hot, too,” I agreed.

  Jared told the cabby to drive to Bloomingdale’s, and the car rocketed off into the traffic with a honk, steam rising from manhole covers parting like morning fog as the taxi blew over them. Bike riders with suicidal tendencies wended between the vehicles at high speed, narrowly missing and being missed by drivers who viewed each stoplight as a challenge to their manhood. When we arrived at the store, I was dizzy from the city’s overpowering presence. The buildings towering overhead formed a concrete jungle unlike anything I’d ever seen.

  “How do people live like this?” I said, stepping from the car. “Stacked one on top of the other? I’d be completely claustrophobic. Guess it’s not a good place if you’re scared of heights.”

  “I have no idea. But it’s certainly changed a lot since I started coming,” Jared said.

  I eyed him. “Two hundred years will do that. I can only imagine.”

  “The area where we’re standing used to be a hellhole run by immigrant gangs. There was no law to speak of. There were warlords who ruled over each district, and the streets were mud and sewage – it would have made Calcutta look clean. Now…it’s a different place. No horses, for starters,” he said with a smile. “It was pretty cool watching the city go up, though.”

  “How many times have you been here?”

  “Over the years? A lot. I played the stock market for a while before the exercise bored me. This was the center of the universe if you were in the game, though.” He shrugged. “Whole different place now, like I said.”

  I tried to conceptualize what it must be like to be Jared, having watched the country grow for so long, but I couldn’t fathom it. World wars, the industrial revolution, the car…the sense of floating through a dream hit again, and Jared had to steady me. It was like my brain couldn’t grasp the scale of time he lived on, even though I…I’d once been special, too.

  Which stopped me in my tracks.

  Jared leaned into me and whispered, “What is it?”

  “How do I become…special again?” I asked, my voice so low I could barely hear myself speak.

  Jared’s face darkened. “This isn’t the time or place to discuss it, Lacey. Let’s do some shopping, okay? Don’t sweat the rest right now.”

  “I was one of you. How do I become one of you again?”

  “It’s not that simple, Lacey. Believe me, I’ve been thinking about this nonstop. Let’s talk about it later.”<
br />
  His expression hardened, and I backed off. But the question lingered in my mind. I’d once been immortal, wedded, or almost so, to my immortal soul mate. He was handling me like I’d break if he touched me, which I understood because of the bloodlust and all – but he wouldn’t have to if I were special again.

  The idea of becoming a vampire wouldn’t go away now that I’d dared to think it, I knew. That wasn’t how my brain was wired. When I got an idea into my head, my style was to obsess over it until something came out the other end of the sausage machine in the form of a decision or an action. But judging by his reaction, I’d have to tread lightly. I had never seen him so rattled, and that I was responsible for it made me anxious. But it’s my life. Shouldn’t I be able to think about it too?

  “Okay,” I said, lightening my tone. “So what were you thinking I should buy?”

  He gave me a sidelong glance from behind his shades and then grinned. “Anything you want. Sky’s the limit. Although if you get a pony, I don’t have any way of getting it to Maine.”

  I pouted. “Don’t they deliver? What kind of place are you taking me to, anyway?”

  We laughed together at my feigned outrage, and the tense mood that had built evaporated. “They have a great selection of everything,” he said. “You’ll see. Just don’t pay attention to the prices. It’s play money, so ignore them.”

  “I’m having a hard time adjusting to the concept of play money, too,” I admitted. Money had always been a thorny issue for me and my stepmom, and spending it like it was nothing went against my nature. I couldn’t help but equate what things cost to how many days of school it would pay for, which caused me yet more secret aggravation – as if I didn’t have enough to worry about.

  He lowered his voice again. “I’m indecently rich, Lacey. Feeeeltheee steeeenkeeeng reeeech,” he said in an exaggerated foreign accent. “There’s nothing we can buy that would put a dent in my fortune, so don’t worry about it.”