Sex and the Single Vampire (20 page)

Why do you want to live alone when you can have Christian?
my mind asked me.

I told it to get stuffed.

The dream was a warning. My dreams often are; they show me what will happen if I don’t take steps to direct
fate to a more pleasant path. I had no idea who the second Dark One was, nor why Christian ordered me to trust him when he was clearly sacrificing himself for me…. A sob caught in my throat as the memory of Christian offering his wrist replayed itself in my head. I scrubbed at my eyes and rocked silently as inside me a battle raged. The need to be with him, to take his darkness and fill him with something else warred with the knowledge that in order to save him, I would have to sacrifice everything I held dear.

Without saying a word, Christian rose from the bed and went into the en suite bathroom. I’d been in there earlier and goggled at the marble bathtub, the gold fixtures, the hand textured walls. It was a bathroom that could inspire anyone, but it was rather odd that Christian should have the urge to go in there right at the exact moment I was having a meltdown. I sniffled into my knees.

“Come, I have drawn you a bath,” he said a few minutes later. I peeked up at him through damp strands of hair. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

A bath suddenly sounded heavenly, only … I hugged my knees even tighter.

He turned around and walked to a huge wardrobe, pulling out a Chinese red silk robe. I accepted it, sliding it on quickly as I headed for the bathroom. Christian might have a body that made him think nothing of parading around nude—and heaven only knew I certainly enjoyed his parade—but I did not care to be seen marching about in my birthday suit. I paused at the door and looked back at where he stood. “Thank you.”

He accepted my thanks with a slight nod.

It took me a long time to scrub the aftereffects of the nightmare off my skin, but when I emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of jasmine-scented steam, I had come to several decisions. The first was that I would ignore the fact that Christian had used a capital
B
—I could tell by
the inflection he used that it was a capital—when calling me his Beloved. I was sure that slip of the tongue was due more to the fact that we seemed to be very compatible when it came to a physical relationship than to any notion that I might be the sole person who could salvage his soul. We were good together, I argued to myself, but not
that
good.

My second decision was that I was going to have to ignore Christian’s previous request that I not see Guarda alone. He’d told me earlier that he didn’t think it was safe for me to meet with her by myself, and bemused as I was by the fact that I was at that moment draped over his chest, I hadn’t objected to his request that I wait until he’d risen for the night before keeping my appointment with her. That was predream, however. Postdream, I knew what would happen should Guarda and Eduardo ever find out just who Christian was—and I would move heaven and earth to see to it that did not happen.

I stood by the side of Christian’s bed, watching him as he slept, and decided that my third decision—that I would accept his invitation to stay with him—was sound. There was really no reason to make myself miserable by cutting off all contact with him. Besides, I told myself as I slipped out of the silk bathrobe and into the bed, it was much easier to keep tabs on him if I were staying here.

He murmured sleepily as I snuggled up against his back.
Are you better now, Beloved?

I ignored the Beloved and slid my hand over his hip and up his chest, pressing my cheek against the warm flesh of his back. He felt solid, strong, invincible, but I knew that could change in an instant. “Much better, thank you for understanding.”

Will you tell me of this dream that left you so devastated?

“No.”

He turned until I was pressed against his chest, my
head tucked under his chin. I sighed and allowed his heat to sink into me as he tossed a heavy thigh over my legs.
I did not ask to pry
, malý váleèník.
I want only to help you.

“I know you do.” I yawned, snuggling a bit closer so I could melt against him. “But it’s okay now. I just want to go to sleep.”

His breath was slow and soft on my hair as we both drifted off into sleep. Just before I let sleep claim me, I felt the faintest echo in my head.

You have much to learn of trust, Beloved.

“All right, we have a couple of ground rules that I want to go over before I leave. Jem, please stop picking your ear and pay attention. I’m sure there’s nothing in there you haven’t seen before. Esme, can you ask Alis if she’d leave off waving her hands through Christian’s vase long enough to listen? Thank you. Now, since I have told the couple who takes care of Christian’s house that I was leaving some very valuable equipment in here that mustn’t be disturbed, they have promised not to come in. As long as you stay
in this room
, everything will be fine.”

I ignored the faint nudging at my mind.

“There’s a bloke there wot wants ye,” Jem said, glowering at me. I was starting to get used to his perpetual sulk, figuring it was just part and parcel of a teenage male, even ghostly teenage males. I nodded at him, then took a closer look at his face.

“Whatever have you done to your eyebrow? It can’t be … You didn’t … Is it pierced? Why did you do that? More important,
how
did you do that?”

He slouched aggressively at me.

“And what happened to your powdered wig? Didn’t you have a powdered wig? I
know
you had a powdered wig!”

He sneered.

Someone behind me nudged my mind again.

“Esme, is it possible for you to change your appearance if you desire?”

She sat with ladylike elegance in the leather chair behind Christian’s desk. “Why, yes, dear, of course we can. Anytime.”

“But … but …” I looked from her ratty slippers to her nightgown and bathrobe. “But if you can change your clothes and such …”

She smiled. “There will come a time in your life when you learn to value comfort over fashion. Although I hope for Christian’s sake that time doesn’t come anytime soon. You’re
comfortable
enough now.”

I cleared my throat and looked away, feeling a bit of a blush burn my cheeks. We’d had a terrible time getting Esme from Christian’s room once she decided that it was her matchmaking efforts that had made the difference in our relationship. Christian had to decline her offer of lovemaking advice three times before we finally convinced her to go haunt his study, the room I now stood in.

The ghost behind me nudged me again. I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

“Okay, so the rule is that you must stay here in this room, and no investigating anywhere else in the house. Christian will be up once it’s dark, and I’ll be gone until then, so you’re just going to have to amuse yourselves as best you can until then. Need I remind you—Alis, would you
please
stop trying to knock over Christian’s vase! I doubt if you can summon the psychic energy necessary to have a physical impact on it, and all that arm waving is a bit distracting. Where was I?”

Behind me, a book flew off the bookshelf and hit the desk. Esme looked at it with interest.

“Um … oh, yes. Need I remind you that if anyone misbehaves—”

A second book flew off the shelf.

“—the punishment will be the keepers. Since I’ve heard from you all that you don’t like being bound to a bobble and stuffed in my pocket, I trust you’ll all behave so I won’t have to take that action.”

A red rose materialized out of the air and fell to my feet.

“Oh, my, how romantic!” Esme said as the cat limped over to sniff it.

“Wot’re we supposed t’do then, while yer off? Just sit ‘ere an’ watch t’old loony bat at them big fancy bits?”

I stepped over the rose and picked up the remote control to the television hidden in an oak armoire. “I’ll turn the TV on, but low. You can watch it, or stare out the window, or pick your toes for all I care, just as long as you do it in this room.”

Jem dropped his habitual sullenness long enough to stare in openmouthed surprise at the TV. “Wot’s it?”

“It’s a television. Oh, I don’t have time to explain it to you. Esme, you’ve seen one, yes?”

“Heavens, yes. The maid who used to do my room turned it on every day. Mr. Woogums and I became quite the devotees of
Coronation Street.”

Two more roses materialized and fluttered down at my feet, accompanied by a big push at my mind. “Good, you can explain what a TV is to Jem. Alis, what
is
your problem?”

“She was a housekeeper, dear.”

“So?”

“For a man who owned a sizable china collection. He insisted that she be the only one who attend to his things, since they were so valuable. It’s only natural that she should hate the sight of objets d’art.”

“Hmmm.” I watched her for a moment. “You don’t think she could focus enough to actually do any damage?” Ghosts, when focused, can sometimes rally enough psychic energy
to interact in our world in a physical manner, as demonstrated by the roses that were appearing with regularity at my feet. I knew Christian’s vase and a nearby delicate bust of a Greek goddess that had also attracted Alis’s attention must be valuable, and hated to think of her inadvertently destroying them.

Esme tore her eyes from the TV and looked thoughtful. “I doubt it, although the gentleman who’s trying to get your attention certainly could.”

At her words, the jade green-and-blue vase lifted up three inches off its plinth and tilted at a rakish angle.

“Put that down!” I snarled, reaching in my pocket for my chalk and ash. “Carefully, or I won’t Summon you!”

The vase settled down with a soft murmur of antique china on highly polished wood.

I drew a circle, hurried through the wards, spoke the words, and pushed away the annoyance of having to Summon a pesky, pushy ghost when I needed to be leaving. I had a difficult enough time dragging myself from Christian’s arms after only a couple of hours of sleep; I didn’t want to be here when he awoke and noticed my absence.

As I sneezed and got to my feet the air shimmered and collected itself, darkening into the figure of a swarthy man with dark, curly hair, a short, pointed beard, glittering blue eyes, an Elizabethan ruff, a scarlet-and-gold doublet, and what surely must have been a greatly exaggerated codpiece. I grounded the spirit and gathered up my coat.

“Mi
amor!
My beautiful one! You ‘ave at last succumbed to my charms and you draw me forth!” His voice was a pleasant tenor with a heavy Spanish accent. I pegged him for one of the Spanish courtiers who hung around Elizabeth’s court before the armada took a drubbing.

“What’s your name?” I asked as I shoved my arms into my coat.

He kissed his hand to me. “I am Antonio de Gutierrez, Count de Seville and your most ‘umble servant.”

He made a deep, flourish-laden bow.

“You have ten seconds to explain why you insisted I Summon you.”

“Mi
corazón,”
he said, his hand over his heart, his eyes filled with amorous longing. “You ‘ave only to ask, and I will attend. I saw you in the arms of that peon, that Dark One, and I knew you were meant for me. You are a Summoner! You have the same fire in your ‘eart as I ‘ave in mine. Who else could ‘ave brought me forth from the dark and dismal existence I ‘ave suffered these many centuries?”

I shook a small, squat candle at him. “Look here, no one—I repeat,
no one
—is allowed to watch when Christian and I … er … when we’re alone together. Everyone got that?”

Esme nodded. Jem floated in a cross-legged position about six inches away from the TV. Alis started screaming at a small ceramic cat that sat in one of the bookcases. Mr. Woogums licked his private parts.

“Good. Now, as for you …” I turned back to Antonio. He flung himself toward the door and struck a seductive pose before it. “I don’t have the time to stay and hear your story, or figure out what it is you need to move on, so this is going to have to be quick. Either you agree to stay right here, in this room, without stepping spectral foot from it, or I’ll bind you to this candle.”

He stared at the candle. It had herbs mixed into the wax, and had a pleasing scent reminiscent of frankincense. “You could not find something a bit more masculine? A bit more dashing?”

“No. It’s either the candle or stay in this room without leaving. The choice is yours.”

He made a pretty pout, which quickly turned into a full-frontal leer. “I will agree to your demands, my fiery one, but it is only because I live to please you.”

“You’re dead,” I pointed out as I grabbed my purse. “All right, everyone, be good. I’ll be back as soon as I can. And remember the bobbles! The first one of you who steps out of line will be bobbled for a whole week!”

Esme gasped and put a hand to her cheek. Alis and Jem ignored me. Antonio upped the wattage in his leer and waggled his eyebrows in a manner I was sure he felt was breathtakingly provocative.

“Mi corazón
, would you not care to ‘ave a little discussion with me in a private little room I know of? It would not take long, perhaps ‘alf an ‘our or so. You will take off your clothes, and I will take off my clothes, and then we will—”

“No! Now stay here and behave.”

He gave me a look that had he been alive would have melted steel. “You do not know what you will be missing, but me, I will be patient. Soon you will be mine! Soon you will look at me and demand I pleasure you as I ‘ave pleasured so many other women.” He stopped suddenly, muttering something under his breath. “Women that meant nothing to me, nothing at all. I cannot even remember them, so dazzling is your beauty.”

I shooed him away from the door with an exasperated sigh. He posed next to the Greek bust, stacking his hands on top of it and resting his chin on his hands, donning an expression that would have been irresistible had he been living.

“Oh, for heaven’s … Antonio, you’re dead. I’m alive. Even if I wanted to, and I can tell you that Christian is more than enough man for any woman, there is no way I can be yours. The sooner you get that idea through your
head, the happier we’ll both be. So stop giving me those seductive little looks and put your codpiece on ice. I’ve got more important things to do than to beat off a five-hundred-year-old Romeo.”