I touched my fingers to his lips for a moment, disappointment warring with the knowledge that he was being wise when I was not. "You don't want me?"
He put my hand on his groin. The evidence there was indisputable.
"You do want me?"
"So much that I'm willing to wait until a time when I can show you that with us, lovemaking will be more profound than just sex, yes."
"We'll be profound together?" Gee, I was just brimming with questions.
He twined a strand of my hair around his finger. "Oh, yes, baby. We'll be very profound together."
I nodded and thought about what he said for a moment, then got off his lap. "Are you sure it wasn't you earlier?"
"Quite sure," he said, standing up, grimacing as he adjusted his pants.
I tried to piece the puzzle together—to see how the early Raphael and the present Raphael fit together—but they didn't mesh. I blinked a couple of times in an attempt to clear my mind. "Well, if it wasn't you who came calling, then who was it?"
That, as it turned out, was indeed the question.
* * *
Chapter Nine
« ^ »
"So who did go into your room earlier in the evening if it wasn't Raphael?" Roxy asked several hours later as we sat together in the pale sunlight of a late October morning.
"I don't know for sure."
"But you have an idea?"
"Possibly." I wanted to avoid my idea, actually. It was fairly unsavory.
"Well, we'll come back to that in a minute," Roxy said as she waved a roll slathered with butter and jam at me. I damned her metabolism for a moment before turning to my naked toast and fruit. "First I want to hear what happened to you."
I frowned. "What do you mean, what happened to me?"
"You know!" She scooped up another large spoon of preserves and coated her roll with it.
"You'll get diabetes doing that," I predicted sourly, nodding to the roll. She just grinned and licked her fingers. "Assume I don't know what it is you're talking about and fill me in with words of one syllable or less."
"I'm talking about what happened last night after Raphael told you he couldn't peel you off his lap. Did you… you know … or did you talk, or did you get up and cordially wish him a good night and spend the rest of the night touching yourself pretending it was him doing the touching?"
"Roxanne!" I choked, coughing and sputtering on my toast until I had tears in my eyes. I wheezed and snorted as I sipped a little coffee, trying to end the paroxysms.
"I didn't say you got your jollies off, I just asked if you did!"
I hadn't, but the thought had crossed my mind. "No, I did not—not, I might add, that it's any of your business. Nor is it any of your business what I might or might not have done with Raphael. You may rest assured I will tell you anything of importance."
"I can tell you didn't get any last night," she said sanctimoniously, licking the jam from the butter knife. "You're always surly in the morning when you're in a frustrated way."
I gave that statement all the attention it deserved—none.
"So if it wasn't Raphael about to do the blood thing with you earlier in the evening, who are your prime suspects?"
I poured myself another cup of coffee and leaned back in my chair, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight. This late in the morning, we were the only people in the tiny dining room.
"I don't know, Rox, that's the problem. It seems to me the field is narrowed down to just a couple of guys."
"Well, I still think it's Raphael," she sniffed, sipping noisily on her hot chocolate. She licked the whipped cream from her upper lip and added, "For some reason, he just doesn't want you to know it's him. We just have to figure out that reason, and then you can tell him to knock it off and get on with step four."
"That doesn't make sense," I said, poking at the remains of my breakfast. "Have you ever read about a Dark One lying to his Beloved?"
She frowned as she thought. "Mmm. You may have a point."
"No, I think…" I chewed on my lower lip as I pulled out the memories of the past evening. "I think Raphael's telling the truth. It didn't feel like him the first time."
"But you said you saw his eyes, saw him standing beyond the door before he melted through it—which I have to say is a totally awesome thing to see."
I was shaking my head before she finished. "No, I told you I couldn't move, couldn't even open up my eyelids. The stuff I saw—well, it could have just been my imagination. I could have imagined I saw Raphael there, that it was him touching me rather than whoever it really was."
"But then who was it really?" she asked for a third time. I just stared helplessly at her in return.
"OK, let's go about this systematically." She pulled out a tablet of paper and started writing. "One: you say the Dark One is not Raphael."
I nodded. "At least, the Dark One who came to my room last night wasn't Raphael. I thought it was until he kissed me; then I knew something was wrong, that it wasn't him."
"Check. Since it's impossible for more than one Dark One to claim a Beloved, that means the first batch of visions you were having were also from our mystery man, to wit, not Raphael."
I nodded, then shook my head, then nodded again.
"What?" she asked, sucking on the cap of the pen.
"I don't know—it seems to me that it was Raphael that first night. I felt him approaching, felt him feeding, and then, whammo! There he was with Dominic."
Roxy tapped the pen on her chin for a moment before making another note. "OK, that's point two: Who arrived with or just following Raphael?"
"Dominic," I said. "But he's not the vampire, I know that. I can feel that."
She grinned and tipped her head to the side. "You've sure come a long way in just a few days. Once it was 'Oh, no, Roxy, there's no such thing as Dark Ones,' and now you know with just a feeling if someone's a vampire or not. Next thing you know, you'll be believing in leprechauns and the Loch Ness Monster."
I didn't feel like laughing. It wasn't her neck that was attracting rogue vampires all over the place. "This is serious, Roxy."
"Nothing is so serious you can't have a bit of fun at your oldest friend's expense. So, if it's not Dominic, then who? Who've you met since we've been here?"
"Tanya and Arielle," I counted off on my fingers, "but they're women, so they don't enter into the picture. Then there was Dominic and Raphael, but we've already crossed them off the list."
"You have," Roxy said darkly. "I haven't until I see some solid proof."
I let that go. "Then Christian showed up—"
I looked up at her. She raised her eyebrows for a moment as she tapped her pen on her lips. "Naw, can't be," she shook her head. "He ate dinner with us, remember? And wasn't he in the bar much earlier, before Dominic and Raphael arrived?"
I closed my eyes so I could concentrate better on the memory of that night. "I think so—yes, I remember seeing him with a wineglass as he joined a table where some men were playing chess."
"Right. So Christian is off the list."
"Although he did disappear last night," I pointed out.
"Disappear? No, he just needed to go the bathroom. I ran into him just after you left. He went to move his car; then we hung out together until the bands got to him."
I made a face. I was not a devotee of music that was loud for the sake of being loud. "I don't blame him. Were the bands bad?"
"Ghastly," she answered, chewing on the pen. She looked down at her paper. "So who does that leave us with? Is there anyone else you met here that first night who could be a Dark One? The bartender?"
I shook my head, looking out the window and watching as some crows pecked at apples that were rotting on the tree. "Has it occurred to you that perhaps I did not actually see this Dark One directly after the visions? Maybe just being in relatively close proximity was enough to do it, without having to actually be physically near one another."
"Mmmm," Roxy hummed, considering that. "I s
uppose there's nothing that says he had to be at the same location as you. There are several instances in the books of Dark Ones who knew their Beloveds were approaching well before they did, so I guess that would make sense. But if that's the case, who is it?"
"There's one man we saw last night who, I'm extremely sorry to say, fits the bill of vampire awfully well."
She stared at me. "Who?"
"Milos."
"Milos? Oh, Milos. You think?"
I nodded. "I think. Have you seen his eyes? They're flat, absolutely flat, like there's nothing behind them but empty space. He gives me the willies in a way Dominic doesn't even come close to achieving."
"But, but—Joy, this is your Dark One we're talking about. The man made for you, the one Miranda predicted you'd find here. He's your soul mate, your other half."
"Well, I don't want him," I said with more than a little petulance. "I want Raphael instead. He's… he's right. He smells right and he feels right, and Lord knows he tastes right."
She stared at me in horror. "You can't mean that! You barely know the man! How can you tell me he's the one you want when you just met him a couple of days ago?"
I waved the waitress over to clear the table. "You've been happy as a clam at the thought of me being a vampire's main squeeze; now you're telling me that because he's not one of the bloodsucking night walkers I'm rushing things?"
"Well, of course," she snorted. "Everyone knows that to be a Dark One's Beloved is forever, but a relationship with a mere human man… that can go belly up faster than an overfed goldfish."
"Someday I'm going to figure you out, Roxy, and then you'll be sorry."
She just grinned at me. "Right. So we have Milos as a possible, Christian as a did not start, and Dominic and Raphael as possible but probably no-gos. I believe the next step is to eliminate the possibles."
"How do we do that?" I asked suspiciously.
"Simple!" she said, standing up and stretching before reaching for her jacket. "We beard the lion in his den. Or in this case, the vampire in his lair."
"I feel stupid," I said a half hour later as Roxy and I skulked around the outside of the trailer Raphael lived in while he worked at the fair. "I know Raphael isn't a vampire; I don't need to see him sleeping to prove it."
"Yes, you do. There are still too many coincidences to make me happy." She tried the knob on the trailer door. It was locked. I sighed in relief.
"Like what?"
"For one, he sleeps during the day and is up all night."
"So does everyone else in the fair," I pointed out.
"For another, you said you saw him ditching his drink, and we've not seen him eating yet. Regular food, that is. One of us might have seen him feeding on something else," she added as she shot me a meaningful look. She rustled around in her oversized bag before pausing. "Um… you go circle around the trailer to make sure no one's watching us, OK?"
"Why?" I asked suspiciously. "The door's locked, we can't get in, so what's the use in staying? And what are you looking for in your bag?"
"Gum. Now go on. I don't want anyone to see us."
I muttered a choice comment about what I wanted, but gave in and slunk my way nervously around the trailer to verify that no one was watching. Other than several magpies flying overhead, there was nothing around us but blowing leaves and a few pieces of debris that had escaped the trash cans. The noise of a generator kicking in over at the tent city rumbled ominously in the background.
"Roxy, this is stupid." I whispered when I completed the circuit. "You're basing your supposition on two flimsy pieces of circumstantial evidence."
"There's more," she said as she stood with her hand on the door. "Remember Raphael's reaction when he caught you alone with Christian? You said he was in a rage."
I allowed the memory of the shared emotions to wash over me again. Rage was a pale word compared to what I had felt. I shrugged. "It's no different from the other visions the Dark One sent to me long distance. Maybe he could see stuff I saw, and he got angry at Christian. I don't know exactly how that happened, but I do know that we're wasting our time here. The door's locked, so let's leave."
She grinned as the latch to the trailer clicked open. "I must not have turned the handle hard enough."
I glared at her, whispering furiously so as not to wake the occupant of the trailer. "Roxanne Mathilda Benner, if I thought for one minute you brought your lock picks with you to a foreign country and picked Raphael's lock, I'd—"
"Now, now," she calmed me. "Picking Raphael's lock is reserved solely for you, if you know what I mean."
"I do, and that's not what I meant, as you well know. Breaking and entering is—"
"Shhh!" she hissed, pushing the door open and mounting the three metal steps so she could stick her head in the door. "Coast is clear," she whispered before disappearing into the trailer. "Come on!"
I debated staying where I was, standing firm for ethical reasons, but the thought that she'd be in the closed, womb-like confines of the trailer alone with Raphael was enough to spike my jealousy count off the chart. I climbed the steps as stealthily as I could, flinching when the trailer made the usual creaks and noises of someone moving around. It was dark inside, almost completely pitch-black except for the light coming from the opened door, which was extinguished as soon as I stepped into the trailer proper.
"Rox?" I froze where I was, unable to see anything once she shut the door.
"Right behind you," she whispered in my ear. "I think the bed is at the far end. Just walk in a straight line until you reach a door."
"Easier said than done," I muttered as I edged forward, my hands held out before me. I couldn't see anything but the faintest glow around what I assumed were blinds drawn tight over windows. I banged my shin on something hard, stopping to clutch my leg and swear profanely but silently until the worst of the pain was over, then hobbled forward.
"If Raphael doesn't have us arrested and thrown in jail for breaking and entering, I swear by all that's holy I'm going to get you for this, Roxy."
I could feel her grin even if I couldn't see it.
"Just remember that I get to be your maid of honor."
I limped my way past what felt like a small Formica table on the left, and a bank of cupboards and counters on the right.
"Kitchen area," I hissed back to her.
"Good. Bedroom door is straight ahead."
Four more steps and my searching fingers found the door. It was shut.
"If the door to his bedroom is shut, why can't we open up a blind and have a little light?" I asked.
She tsked. "What if he is a Dark One? The light'll fry him when you open the door! You want to take a chance on that?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. Are you at the door? Open it up and let's see if he's warm-blooded and breathing, or cold and lifeless."
I muttered an imprecation at her as I gently turned the knob, praying as I did that it would be locked.
It wasn't.
"Now what?" I said almost silently in what I assumed was Roxy's ear.
She shoved me forward, toward the bed. Unfortunately, neither of us realized that the bedroom consisted of space for the bed, and that's it. When she shoved me forward, my knees hit the end of the mattress, and I tumbled forward onto it, onto the legs that were currently occupying the space. At the same time, the lights in the tiny room clicked on, and I found myself lying across Raphael's shins, staring down the barrel of an extremely efficient looking gun.
"You two are the worst housebreakers I've ever encountered," he told us calmly, tucking the gun away under his pillow. I muttered an apology, my face hot and red, and pushed myself off the bed, hoping against hope I'd find a way to explain what we were doing there. That's when I noticed Roxy. She was standing in the doorway staring at him. I turned to see what made her eyes bug out like they did, and felt my jaw hit the ground.
Raphael was sprawled over his bed—there's just no word for the masculine grace he displayed
as he lay there—totally, completely, utterly naked. I let my eyes go wild, feasting in an orgy of delight as I gazed at all that flesh, starting at his toes (nice long, narrow feet), working my way up muscular calves and heavily muscled thighs to pause for a long, long moment on that part of him that many parts of me were even now clamoring for. I swallowed back a good gallon or so of saliva that was threatening to issue forth as drool and forced my perusal upward to his stomach, where I stopped to admire a sunburst tattoo just below his belly button. It was about the size of a half dollar, and was made up of a sun with wavy rays emanating from it. I'd never seen anything like it, and although I wasn't a fan of tattoos, that one had me licking my lips. I tore my eyes from it and let my gaze continue up to a broad chest with insouciant nipples that screamed for attention, taking two side excursions to arms that were muscley without being obscenely big, stopping finally when my eyes met his.
"You are so lucky," Roxy said to me in a voice filled with awe.
I blinked.
"Would you like me to turn over so you can see my other side?" Raphael asked.
"Would you?" Roxy breathed hopefully.
"No, he would not," I snapped, shoving her out the door.
She pushed back to leer at Raphael as he started to get out of bed. "Nice seeing you! And I mean that literally!"
"Roxy!"
She craned her head around me again. "That's a really great tattoo, by the way. Sexy! Bet it drives the women wild."
"ROXY!"
"Sorry. I'll just go sit out here while you conduct the test."
"What test?" I asked in a low whisper.
She mimed pulling the blinds, then turned and disappeared into the blackness of the trailer.
I faced Raphael, now pulling on a pair of jeans. "I… urn… suppose you'd like to know what we're doing here."
He scratched his chest and sat on the end of the bed. I wanted to shove his hand aside and scratch it for him, but the dark circles under his eyes reminded me that whatever he was, he'd only had a few hours sleep.
A Girls Guide to Vampires Page 14