A Girls Guide to Vampires

by Katie MacAlister

  "Don't you dare say what you want to say," I warned her, laughing as she suddenly looked chagrined. "You're as bad as Roxy."

  Her smile returned. "It is just that I am so very happy to see you happy. Both of you. It is good to find someone you are matched with, yes?"

  "Mmm." I turned back to Raphael. "So what happened after Tanya threatened Dominic? Milos told her to pack up her stuff and go?"

  "More or less." He tossed a few coins to Theresa as she brought our beers. She sloshed some of mine onto the table in front of me, but other than giving her another glare, I didn't say anything.

  "Getting information from you is like pulling teeth," I complained, mopping up my spilled beer. "By the way, are you intending to drink that one or dump it in a plant when you think no one is watching?"

  He looked startled for a moment before his eyes went to a dark amber.

  "That first night," I explained. "I saw you spill your beer in the plant. It was one of the reasons Roxy believed you were a"—I glanced at Arielle and gave her a toothy smile—"it's one of the reasons we thought you were someone else."

  "I plan to drink this one," he said, his eyes muted. "This is a lager. The other was a dark ale and too strong."

  "Too strong?"

  "I don't like to drink much before the fair opens. That night the bartender was bragging to me about the strength of his local brew; I didn't want to hurt his feelings if I didn't drink it."

  I gave his thigh a little squeeze to show my appreciation for his thoughtfulness toward others, and then another one just because I liked to squeeze his thigh. I was rewarded when he shifted restlessly. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that my hand so near Happyland was having a predictable effect. I resisted the urge to torment him further and withdrew my hand.

  "It was a very bad time last night," Arielle broke into my smutty thoughts. "I was present as well, and there is nothing to tell other than Tanya was most angry at Dominic, and when Milos told her she must leave the fair after the festival, she cried and returned to our trailer." Her gaze dropped at those last words, tears puddling up in her pretty blue eyes. "I did not go to her as I should. Paal had arranged—that is, I was to be with Paal that evening, and I did not go back to the trailer until much later. And now she is gone!"

  "Gone?" I asked, looking between her and Raphael. "She's left the fair already?"

  "No," Arielle said before Raphael could answer. "Her things are still in the trailer, but she has not been seen for many hours."

  I looked at Raphael.

  "I think she's probably gone somewhere to lick her wounds," he answered my unasked question. "If she doesn't return by later tonight, Arielle can contact the police."

  Arielle's lip quivered at the last word.

  "Arielle can contact them? You're the security guy—don't you think you should do that?"

  He looked away. "No. It's better if she does it."

  Better for whom? I wondered. Why was Raphael so reticent to talk to the police? I was sure it had something to do with his secret. The idea of him doing something wrong, seriously wrong, was unthinkable, so I quickly cobbled together another explanation. Maybe the charges against him were false, accusing him of some illegal crime that he didn't do, but which resulted in him being on the run from the police. That would explain his desire to hide out with a small fair that never stayed in one location for any length of time. A sniff from Arielle had me leaving that avenue of thought and returning to her problem.

  "You don't think…" I hesitated to bring it up in front of her, but I didn't like the sound of Tanya disappearing without taking her things. I pinched Raphael's thigh until he looked at me. "You don't think something could have happened to her, do you? What with the recent event in Heidelberg?"

  His eyes glittered brightly, a sign he understood my unspoken question.

  "Doubtful," he said with a glance to Arielle, his hand tightening on mine. Beneath both our hands his leg was tense. Clearly he was more concerned about Tanya than he was willing to let on.

  "Heidelberg?" she asked. Her eyes widened in distress as she understood what I had meant. "You mean Tanya could be like that poor woman—"

  "No, of course not. I'm sure she's just off somewhere pouting," I reassured her as I patted her hand again. "I'm willing to bet she's holed up with someone in the tent city. There must be at least three hundred people there now. She'll turn up tonight, you'll see. The murder in Heidelberg was just an isolated incident, one that has nothing to do with the fair. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

  I looked to Raphael for support, but surprisingly, he said nothing.

  "I hope you are right," Arielle said with another quick glance at her balding Viking as he sat laughing with the group of workers from the fair.

  Roxy walked into the bar, waved at us, and turned to call back through the door. Raphael stiffened as Christian followed her.

  "There they are. Do we have time for a beer? Hi, Raphael. You look surprisingly rested considering Joy's lustful appetites." Roxy stopped teasing as soon as she caught sight of Arielle's face. She scooted in beside her and shot me an accusatory glare. "Arielle, what's wrong? You look like you've been crying!"

  "Don't look at us, we didn't do anything to her," I said before turning to Christian and greeting him. He pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the table, nodding to Raphael. Raphael nodded back. In a smooth Mr. Casual move that men have practiced for eons, he dropped his arm over my shoulders and hauled me even closer to his side.

  Christian's eyebrows rose at the blatant show of possession.

  "Subtlety is his forte," I told him.

  "Would you like me to go find that veil now?" Raphael growled. I pinched his thigh.

  "Oh my God," Roxy said, having got the full story from Arielle. "They're firing Tanya? Wow. Bad karma. Guess that qualifies as another one of Joy's disasters, huh?"

  "No, it does not."

  "Sure it does. It's right up there with that poor couple's house you washed into the ocean."

  "I didn't wash their house into the ocean—the storm did!"

  "Same difference."

  I bit back the retort, refusing to argue with her in front of everyone. Roxy reassured Arielle that Tanya was sure to show up soon. "Bad pennies and all that," she said sagely. Luckily, Arielle didn't understand the reference.

  A half hour later we headed out to our respective destinations: Roxy, Christian, and I to his castle to see the dungeons and have the grand tour, and the fair folk back to the meadow to get ready for the crowds. Raphael held the door open for me as I left the hotel, walking beside me with his hand resting possessively on my lower back as he escorted us to the parking area.

  "You could place a tag in her ear and a radio collar around her neck," Christian suggested from behind us. "It might keep you from wondering where she is."

  Raphael's hand tightened on my back. "But not who she's with," he snapped in return.

  "Boys, if you insist on having that pissing contest, please do it downwind," I said in my best mom voice, glaring at Raphael. He glared at me in return, then suddenly pulled me close in an extremely hard, dominating kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding as his tongue got all pushy with mine, ordering it around and generally behaving as if it owned the place. I thought about asking Raphael and his tongue where they got off, then admitted to the shameful secret that I loved it when his body got bossy with me. I sighed into his mouth and allowed him to plunder at will.

  "If that's how he kisses goodbye, you have to wonder how he—"

  "That's enough!" I tore my mouth from the heat of Raphael's and glared at Roxy sitting in the front seat of Christian's car. She grinned back.

  "I see what you mean about subtlety being one of his virtues," Christian said with just a hint of terseness in his voice. "If you're quite finished…" He held the rear door open for me.

  Raphael gave me a look that told me to behave myself. I gave him one that informed him I always behaved myself, and that he'd better not be finding
any excuses to go back to the hotel to have another beer, at least not while that man-stealing hussy Theresa was on duty, lest he find a certain portion of his anatomy severed away with a dull butter knife and two rusted spoons.

  He rolled his eyes.

  Drahanská's dungeon was not what I'd expected. I figured old castle dungeons were bound to be dank, dark with memories of suffering and horror, rotting torture devices lying broken and forgotten in a corner, the air tainted with the whisper of rats scurrying off into the shadows. Christian, I was just coming to realize, was a man of many surprises, and his dungeon followed true to form. The steps leading down to the lowest level of the castle were cut out of stone, but lit by electric lights on the wall. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I braced myself for dirt and rats.

  Christian flipped a switch. I stared in complete surprise as a line of lights recessed into the low stone ceiling hummed to life, illuminating a long row of marble statues, each on a matching marble pedestal.

  "Statues?" Roxy asked, pushing past me to stare at the nearest statue. "You keep statues in your dungeon?"

  "Can you think of a better place for them?" Christian asked, moving past her to turn on a spotlight for the statue she was looking at.

  "They're beautiful," I said, gently touching the stone leg of a partially nude woman. They truly were stunning works of art. Museum quality, I was guessing. The lines of the woman's face were delicately rendered with exquisite detail, almost as realistic as the sweep of material sliding off her shoulders. I couldn't help but draw my fingers down the stone folds, marveling at the talent of the sculptor.

  "Where are all the torture devices? Where's your rack?" Roxy asked, disappointment rife in her voice as she wandered down the line of statues.

  "That is Venus," Christian told me as he flipped the light on for the figure I stood before. His voice was as smooth as the polished stone under my fingers.

  "I've never seen anything like it," I said.

  He stood next to me, his eyes soft with satisfaction as he looked at the statue. The woman was reclining back against a column, a seductive look on her face as she toyed with the folds of the material partially covering her. "I have one or two Italian pieces here, but the rest are patron saints of the Czech Republic."

  "Where are your walls stained with the blood of thousands of men tortured over the centuries? Where are your skeletons hanging from a cage? I thought for sure there were going to be skeletons!" Roxy's plaintive voice echoed down the long room.

  "She is beautiful, is she not?" Christian stroked a finger down the woman's exposed calf, ending where my hand rested on a delicately arched foot. His fingers touched mine briefly, but I knew it was no casual touch.

  I withdrew my hand. "Yes, very beautiful."

  "She is five hundred years old." He cocked his head and looked at me. Under the spotlight, his eyes were black and unfathomable. "I believe that you and she share a timeless quality in your beauty."

  "Where are your rusty swords and shackles and cat o' nine tails? Isn't that standard equipment in a dungeon? I'm sure it is."

  "Christian—" I hesitated telling him to lay off his advances to me. I felt bad enough about him without being rude to the man in his own home, but I didn't want him to think he could continue.

  "You have chosen," he said calmly, his face a mask, his eyes intense and unreadable.

  "Yes, I have, and I'm sorry if that hurts you in any way, but I think if you see that you really aren't interested in me, you're just into some macho game trying to one-up Raphael, you'll realize how silly this all is."

  "You do not believe that you are the one meant for me."

  "I know I'm not," I said gently, trying to edge away.

  "You are wrong," he said simply. "Since you do not believe me, I will have to prove it to you."

  "Now, wait," I protested, getting a bit worried over the stark look around his eyes. "There's no reason to prove anything—"

  Blackness opened at my feet as I balanced on the edge, consumed with hunger, blasted with the hot breath of anguish so strong it stripped the air from my lungs. Memories of dark, endless, solitary nights, one after the other spanning centuries, filled my mind as unceasing despair shredded my soul until there was nothing left but the memory of a life beyond this nightmare. In the middle of the torment was a tiny flame of hope, of the salvation that one person could bring, the return of life, of an end to the eternal loneliness… and the long-hoped-for promise of love.

  I backed away from the blackness, backed away from Christian until the icy cold of marble met my back. I stared at him, shaking my head as he watched me, unable to understand everything he was pouring into my mind.

  "No," I whispered, clutching the statue and slowly working my way around it, wanting only to put distance between Christian and me. "Not you. It can't be you."

  Roxy called out something from beyond the statues, but her words did not reach me. There was only Christian's beautiful voice and desperate eyes. He moved slowly toward me, using his voice to calm me. "Beloved, do not run from me. I will not harm you."

  "No," I said, unable to take my eyes from him, unwilling to believe the evidence before me. I backed up another couple of steps. "How could you do this to me? I thought you were my friend—how could you do this?"

  He took a step toward me, his hands held out with the palms up, as if to show he meant me no harm. "I did not intend that you should suffer, Beloved. I was not aware you had found me, I could not know you were able to read my thoughts so easily. Once I saw you, once I realized you were in distress, I blocked my mind from yours."

  "Not entirely," I said, rubbing my arms and shivering with the chill that seemed to permeate me with the memory of his intimate visits. Something cold pressed into my backside as I continued to back away from him. I scooted around the statue. "You… touched me."

  He took another step forward. "It is my right. You are my Beloved."

  "It is not your right," I corrected him, clinging to the statue for support as I moved past it. "I am not your Beloved. I love Raphael, not you. Nothing you say is going to change that fact."

  He waved away my objections as he glided forward another step. I let go of the statue and reached behind me to feel where the next one was. "The love you think you feel for him is an illusion," he said. "Your mind does not wish to accept your fate, and so it creates a means of escape for you. Once we have taken the fifth step of the Joining, you will realize the truth of your emotions."

  "Joy? Christian? What are you guys doing over there?"

  "You betrayed me. I looked to you for help, I thought you were my friend, and you betrayed me." The cold, sightless eyes of a long-dead saint peered down on me in sorrow as I moved past him.

  "Hey, guys? What's going on?" Roxy's voice grew louder as she approached.

  Christian suddenly lunged at me, catching me off guard, wrapping me in an embrace of inflexible intent.

  "GUYS?"

  "Don't do this," I pleaded with Christian. "You're wrong, I know you're wrong, I feel it in my bones. We were not meant to be together. Somehow, somewhere, something got screwed up. I'm not the woman you need."

  "Joy?" Roxy appeared at my side, but Christian never spared her a glance. I was afraid to take my eyes from him, sure that if I did so, his control would snap.

  "I have lived almost nine hundred years," he said quietly, his arms like steel around me. I heard Roxy gasp, but she said nothing. "I have seen countless Dark Ones give themselves over to the monster that lives within because they could no longer wait to find their Beloved. There has never been a case where a Dark One has chosen the wrong woman. It is impossible."

  "Nothing is impossible," I whispered, allowing my weight to rest against his arms. "'There are more things in heaven and Earth'—Shakespeare knew that, and I know it as well. I wish I could ease your pain, but the simple truth is that I cannot be your Beloved. I love Raphael. I need Raphael. I want him, and only him. He is my other half. If you try to make me into somet
hing I'm not, you will only destroy us both. Do you want that, Christian? Do you want to destroy me?"

  His eyes closed for a moment, but, held so close to him, I could feel the wave of pain wash over him even though he kept his mind blocked from mine. I realized at that moment that he wasn't fooling himself; he truly believed I was his Beloved, the woman who would redeem him and give his life meaning.

  And with that knowledge I became very, very afraid.

  "I'm not quite sure what's going on here," Roxy said, her eyes huge as she looked between the two of us. "But whatever it is, it's starting to give me the creeps, and Joy doesn't look any too happy either, so maybe we'd better give the rest of the tour a skip, huh?"

  "I will not hurt you," Christian said, his voice slipping around me to whisper velvet-soft against my skin. "I will never hurt you, of that I swear."

  "Thank you," I said, meaning it. I had a nasty suspicion that unless I could convince him that I was not his soul mate, I'd be called on to hold that promise up as my own salvation.

  His eyes searched mine for another second before he released me from his iron hold. I started to breathe again, surprised to realize that I'd been holding my breath. Christian took a step back, then made a slight bow in Roxy's direction. "You are in possession of a truth that very few people have known over the centuries. I hope you will not abuse my trust in your discretion."

  "Oh, no," Roxy assured him. Her face was pale, her eyes wary as he took her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. "Honest, Christian. I would never tell anyone your secret."

  He looked at her a bit longer, then released her chin and swept his hand toward the stairs in an elegant gesture. "As neither of you wish to see any more of the dungeon, we can return to the upper floors and continue the tour."

  I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and throw myself into Raphael's arms, but the memory of Christian's anguish was strong. I gave Roxy a feeble smile in answer to her questioning look as I shook off the clinging sense of nightmare, heading up the stairs toward the bright glow of reality.