"Yeah, but surely you could put away a little something extra? You're a big guy, I'm sure there's room in there for a little pork and sauerkraut, eh?" Roxy grinned at him, nudging me under the table with her toes. I gave her the one-eyebrow. "Yes? You wanted something?" lift, as perfected by the man sitting across the table from me.
"No, thank you."
"How about dessert? The strudel here is really good."
"No, thank you. I don't want anything."
"Roxy, leave him alone."
"Appetizer?"
"No."
"Glass of wine?"
"I don't drink wine."
"Roxy!"
"I can't sit here and eat my stuffed pork and dumplings if he's not going to eat anything!" Roxy declared, frowning at Christian in a meaningful manner until he obediently transferred his attention to the menu. She turned back to Raphael and was going to bait him further, but I made the squinty eyes to end all squinty eyes at her, and for what was probably the first time in her life, she backed off.
"Geez, you guys don't have to look at me like that, I was just expressing a polite interest. Wasn't I expressing a polite interest, Joy?"
"No, you were being obnoxious and pushy. You deserve to be snapped at."
"Oh, sure, you take his side. No surprise there, considering you almost had your tongue down his throat a few minutes ago."
"ROXY!"
"Good, here comes the waitress. Has everyone but Stretch here decided what they want?"
I prayed for an earthquake to open the earth up at my feet and swallow me whole. From the martyred look on Raphael's face, he was praying the same thing.
"So, do you live around here?" Roxy asked Christian once we had placed our orders.
He nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his wineglass. "I do. About a kilometer west of here."
"Really? What do you do?"
"Roxanne!" I slapped at her hand as she was about to snag the last bit of bread.
"What?"
"It's not polite to grill people. I told you almost everyone but Americans find it invasive to question them about their life."
She grinned her pixie grin at him. "Sorry; didn't mean to be rude."
He smiled as he took the piece of bread she offered. Roxy turned to me with her eyebrows lowered. "Am I allowed to talk about myself, or is that also rude?"
I shot Raphael a "what can I do with her?" look. He lifted both eyebrows in return in a manner that seemed to suggest a gag might be effective. I was forced to agree he had a point.
Christian laughed at Roxy's question, the warm sound rolling around the room and covering everything in a soft blanket of silk. "I'm not in the least bit offended by your questions, although I would much rather hear about what brings two such lovely women to a small corner of the Czech Republic."
"A wild goose chase," I muttered.
Roxy ignored me. "Have you ever heard of a local author named Dante?" she asked Raphael and Christian. The former shook his head.
Christian frowned slightly as he toyed with his bread, rubbing crumbs off the crust. "Yes, I have."
"I thought you might; he lives in this area," Roxy continued, digging through her sizeable purse for a copy of the book she was reading. "He writes the most delicious books about Moravians—vampires, you know—and we're dying to meet him. The books are fabulous, utterly, utterly fabulous, with mysterious, dark, brooding heroes to die for. You really should read them—not that you'd find the heroes to die for, since you're men, not unless you're…" She glanced up at Christian and Raphael, then back down into her purse. "You really should read them. There are twelve books out now, and there's supposed to be another one in a few months. Drat, I must have left the book in my room."
Christian's brows rose as he looked from Roxy to myself. I gave him a five for effort—he was good, but he couldn't hold a candle to the Browmaster sitting opposite me. Raphael was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, a pained expression on his face. I couldn't figure out if he was bored with the conversation or the company. He certainly wasn't contributing much to the conversation. I wondered why, if he was so unhappy, he'd agreed to sit with us; then I wondered why I cared. Just because I was the teensiest bit attracted to the man didn't mean I had to like him.
I shot a look at him from under my lashes. He watched me through half-closed eyes, his expression making blood rush to all sorts of interesting spots on my body. My question as to why he was bothering with us was answered by the interest that flared deep within the glittering slivers of amber.
Christian listened as Roxy recapped the plot of the latest book, continuing to toy with what remained of his bread, looking a bit askance at Roxy's enthusiasm. Raphael glanced at his watch, which prompted me to shut Roxy up and turn the conversation to something that might interest him.
"I really don't think they care about the books, Rox."
"On the contrary," Raphael spoke up. "I'm finding it a fascinating look at what women feel are missing from their lives."
"Missing? What do you mean, missing?" I asked.
He rubbed a finger along his jaw, his lips donning an insufferably smug look. "From what Roxy says, women are the primary readers of these books."
"Yeah, so?"
"And they feature male characters who are dominant and aggressive, especially toward women?"
"They're called alpha males, and what of it?"
A slight smile quirked his lips. "You needn't get so defensive; I was merely pointing out that books whose readership is predominantly female, featuring aggressive male characters and including what I assume are numerous scenes of a licentious nature—"
"Licentious?" I gasped. How dare he say that about Dante's fabulous, romantic, sensual, erotic books?
"I bet you're one of those men who likes to feel superior to women," Roxy said suspiciously.
Christian turned a laugh into a cough. Raphael and I ignored both of them.
"—can only indicate that the books strike a chord with their readers, fulfilling a need, if you will, unmet in their everyday lives."
"Well, look who has a psychology degree," I snorted, and damning the calories, slathered fresh butter on my piece of bread.
"Bristol University, 1992," he agreed.
"Oh. Sorry." I ate crow in the form of my bread.
"I'm not." Roxy shot him a squinty eyed glare. "I think he's one of the alpha males he's so quick to damn."
"You tell me, then," Raphael offered, leaning backward on the back legs of the chair, his hands locked behind his head, "what it is you both find so attractive in these books."
I looked between him and Christian, wondering if they were just humoring me again.
"Please," the latter said, brushing bread crumbs from his shirt, and giving me an encouraging grin. I thought something flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly gone. "I am just as interested as Raphael. Are the men such as you described the type to interest you, personally?"
"A man like one of Dante's heroes?" Roxy asked.
He nodded.
"Ooooh," she squealed, "yes! Yes!"
"Not on your life," I answered at the same time. "They're fun in fiction, but I imagine real alpha males are the absolute pits to live with. They've got all those arrogance and domination issues, not to mention being obstinate, pigheaded, and determined to rule everyone's lives. Alpha males are not what women are looking for in a man." I smiled pointedly at Raphael.
"Don't listen to her, she's got no spirit. You have to understand, these heroes aren't just alpha males, they're Moravians. Dark Ones. Vampires."
Raphael rolled his eyes. Christian smiled, waiting until the waitress set down our meals before continuing. "I would have thought most people would find vampirism an experience they would not wish to explore in any depth, let alone consider it an asset in a mate."
"You're dead wrong there," Raphael said before Roxy could dispute Christian. "I've been with the GothFaire only four weeks, but they've made a small fortune at each of their stop
s. Some people come for the bands they hire, others come for the novelty of a traveling fair, but most are young people who want to be a part of the Goth community."
"Goth?" Christian asked him.
"It stands for Gothic, supposedly a society devoted to the dark side of life. Vampires, necromancers, morbid poetry and loud, grating music… anything that can be classified as strange and unusual. From what I've seen, the stranger and more unusual a person or thing, the more successful it'll be at the fair."
"Poseurs," Roxy said.
"Dominic," I offered.
"Exactly," he agreed with both of us.
"You do not believe that Dominic and company are what they claim, then?" Christian asked.
Raphael snorted in the negative, and sat upright again, glancing at his watch.
"And how about you?" Christian asked Roxy and me.
Roxy watched Raphael closely for a minute. "Well… Dominic might not be a vampire, but I do believe they exist. I'm quite certain that Dante couldn't have made up the whole race of Moravians based on just a little folklore. There has to be some truth in it."
"Ah. And the lady who refuses to be mad? Are you a skeptic or a believer?"
A blush crept up my cheeks as I told myself not to be annoyed. I had wanted them to stop pussyfooting around me, and Christian had done just that. I met his dark gaze and shrugged, unwilling to commit myself verbally. Despite the decision to do whatever it took to keep my mind from slipping away, I was having difficulty admitting out loud that I believed in something so extreme as vampires.
"Some people might consider it foolish to view a vampire, these Dark Ones, as a source of entertainment," Christian commented to Roxy.
"And if vampires really existed, they'd be right," Raphael interrupted. "You don't believe that Dominic is a real vampire, do you?"
Christian's eyes darkened. I wondered if it was easy to do. I made a mental note to practice in front of a mirror to see if I could do it. "No. I believe he is merely playacting a role."
"And not doing a very convincing job of it, either," I said wryly.
"I agree, but I'm afraid others are not so clear-sighted. You have not seen the north meadow today?"
"The north meadow? Oh, you mean the big open area beyond the hotel? No, we were off in the other direction today. Why? What's going on there?" Roxy asked.
"People come to this area every year at this time. The Harvest Festival draws some of them to Brno, others come here for an All Hallow's Eve celebration."
"Oh, we heard about that. The GothFaire is sponsoring a festival at Drahanská Castle." She turned to Raphael for confirmation.
He glanced at his watch again. "It's a festival to celebrate the cult of the dead, as demonstrated by particularly loud forms of music, the overconsumption of alcohol, and the more popular attractions from the fair, all of it amounting to a security nightmare. And speaking of that, I must leave. We are expecting a significant increase in attendees tonight, and as you heard, my presence has been requested."
He stood up, nodded to us, and grabbing his jacket, headed out the door without a look back.
"Well!" Roxy sniffed, then gave me a sympathetic look. "I think you can do better, Joyful."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. "Will you give it up?"
She grinned, then asked Christian if he wanted to join us at the fair that evening. "It should be fun. There'll be lots of vampires to look at!"
"Will there?" he asked with a wry twist to his lips.
"Sure there will. You do believe in vampires, don't you?"
We both looked at him. He was poking at his goulash, but he looked up and gave us another of his nice smiles. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio—'"
"Too weird!" Roxy interrupted. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off, but someone said that to Joy just a few weeks ago, and it seems odd you should repeat it now. Almost like it was a sign!" She sent me a look that spoke volumes.
I sent her one that told her she was writing the wrong book. "Yes, how very strange that an obscure and unknown author like Shakespeare might be quoted twice in a month Just let me make a note of the date and time. I'll want to include mention of this rare phenomenon in my diary."
"I would be happy to join you at the fair tonight," Christian cut in before Roxy could respond.
"Fabulous!" she crowed. "Now, let me tell you the basic storylines of the twelve Book of Secrets volumes, so you'll know what to look for in Dark Ones when we're at the fair. First of all, vampires are always men."
He raised his eyebrows at that. "Really? How interesting. Why is that?"
Roxy shrugged and stuffed a forkful of pork and cabbage in her mouth. "Something to do with the manner of their punishment, I think," she said indistinctly. "Anyway, they can't eat or drink anything but blood—it doesn't have to be human, though—they can't tolerate sunlight, of course, and they have great powers of mesmerism. They can also change their forms into animals, and are difficult to kill or wound. A Dark One can't ever become human again, but once he has completed the Joining with his Beloved, the woman who is his soul mate, he can do a lot more stuff like tolerate a little bit of sunlight. But the best part is that they're all, without exception, fantastic lovers."
I stopped frowning at my salad and gave her an exasperated look. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Roxy—"
"Well, they are!"
"Dark Ones are fictional characters—"
"Damned sexy fictional characters!"
"What is this Joining of which you spoke?" Christian asked, mostly, I suspected, to keep the peace between Roxy and me.
She waved her fork at him as she chewed. "That's really cool. There are seven steps to a successful Joining."
I glanced at the small wooden clock on a shelf near the door. "Roxy, it's almost six. We really should be going if you want to have maximum play time at the fair."
"This won't take a minute. Christian's interested, aren't you?"
"Fascinated," he said, pushing his plate aside. I frowned at it for a minute. It was bare of all except a few pieces of garnish. He ate even faster than Roxy, and if she wasn't awarded the world's fastest eater title by the record-keeping people, it wasn't for lack of trying.
"The seven steps are this: First, the Dark One marks the heroine as his own; second, he protects her from afar; third, he conducts the first exchange—"
"Of body fluids," I interrupted. "Such as blood, saliva, that sort of thing. I know it sounds icky, but I have to admit, the way Dante writes it, it's really not. Usually the first exchange is a really steamy kiss."
"—followed by the fourth step, where he entrusts the heroine with his life by giving her the means to destroy him; then there's the second exchange." Roxy wiggled her eyebrows at him. "I'll let you guess what sorts of bodily fluids are exchanged there. The sixth step has the Dark One seeking the heroine's assistance to overcome his darker self, and finally, the last step is the ultimate exchange—their life-blood. The heroine redeems his dark soul by offering herself as a sacrifice so he can live. He doesn't let her die, of course, but it's all very romantic!"
"And utterly fictional," I muttered. Roxy didn't hear me, but Christian did. "That's it, Rox, you're done. Eat your dumpling and let's get a move on. The fair is about to start, and you're boring Christian to tears."
"Mmmm," Roxy said with a knowing smile, scarfing down the last of her dumpling. "The fact that a certain hottie guy will be hanging around there has nothing to do with your desire to check it out, huh?"
I stood up and grabbed my dearest friend in the whole wide world and muttered dire threats in her ear if she continued with that thread of conversation. She just stuck her nose in the air, and graciously allowed Christian to pay for our dinner.
We ran upstairs to collect our coats since the nights were starting to get cold. As I locked my hotel room behind me, I came to a fast decision.
"Rox," I said as she toddled out of her room. "I want to tell you something, but I don't want you to
freak out."
She stared at me for a moment. "Well, I've seen you naked so I know you're not really a man. What's the problem?"
I cleared my throat nervously and tried to think of how to say it without sounding any more deranged than I was feeling. "You remember last night in the bar, when I got dizzy?"
She nodded, looking impatiently toward the stairs, taking my arm and trying to tug me in that direction. "Yeah. You said it was because of the beer, not that you had a lot of it."
"Well," I said, reminding myself that she was my oldest and dearest friend, and if she wouldn't be understanding and supportive in my time of need, no one would, "that wasn't exactly the truth."
Her eyes widened and she stopped trying to shove me toward the stairs. "Oh my God! You don't mean… Joy, why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know quite how," I said miserably, playing with the buttons on my coat. "It's not quite something I want everyone to know."
"I'll say! Geez, this puts a whole new light on things, huh? When are you due?"
"Due?"
"The baby. When's it due? And what are you going to say to Bradley?"
I smacked her on her arm. "I'm not pregnant, you boob!"
"Oh." She looked a bit disappointed. "If it's not a baby that made you feel faint, what was it?"
I took a peek down the stairs to make sure no one was hovering just out of sight. "I'm having, for lack of a better word, visions."
"Visions?"
"Yeah. You ever had them?"
"You mean visions of the Virgin Mary, that kind of vision?"
"No, not that. My visions are about… a man."
"Ooooh, now that sounds like my kind of vision! Is he naked? Are you? Are you touching each other? Does he have a really big package?"
"Will you drag your mind from the gutter for a moment while I'm explaining to you how I'm going stark, raving mad? Do you think you could do me the common courtesy of being WORRIED about the fact that I'm having visions?"
"Why?" she asked, her head tipped in question.
"Why?" I gawked at her in disbelief. "Why? WHY? You ask why?"
"One why, not four."
I grabbed her ear and peered in it. She tried to squirm away. "What are you doing?"
A Girls Guide to Vampires Page 9