Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) (68 page)

              Francis looked at Anne’s lifeless body as she lay on his bed. Latching his trunk he gave her one last look before he dragged it to the door. There was no doubt now that he would have to leave. Even with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, he would only have a couple of days at most before someone suspected something. He dragged his trunk out to the concierge area and shut the door to his room behind him. All the while, as he dragged the trunk to the elevator and waited for it to arrive, he imagined the horror on her face. The look she had given him as she realized what he was and what he was doing to her. The desperation that turned suddenly to acceptance and then to peace as he drank the very last drop of her life from her veins. He hadn't wanted it to end this way. Valentina, perhaps, but not Anne. But what choice did he have? It was the mercy of a swift killing or the slow and agonizing death of his child taking her from the inside out.

              The elevator door opened and Francis stepped inside. He would travel down to one of the lower floors and take the maintenance elevator from there. While he knew that there was little they could do to end his life if caught, he wasn't going to invite the possibility of a lifetime of confinement. He cursed himself for being so careless.

              The elevator bounced to a stop on the eighth floor and Francis dragged his trunk out and down the hallway. He had no idea whether he was heading in the right direction, but it only made sense that the maintenance elevator should be somewhere towards the back of the hotel. As he dragged the trunk full of his clothing and minimal possessions, he couldn't help but hope that his fortune of barren hotel hallways would continue.

              Fortunately for Francis the halls remained empty and the maintenance elevator was exactly where he thought it was going to be. Unfortunately for Francis, there was a maintenance worker inside the elevator when the doors opened.

              “Hey buddy, you can't use this elevator, it's for maintenance only!” The stubble chinned man said. Francis waved his hand as if to dismiss him.

              “No, no, is okay.” He said, hoping that his thick accent would offer him the protection from further questions. But the man shook his head,

              “No, no, is not okay. This elevator is for maintenance, you aren't maintenance, therefore, you have to use the other elevator.” The man was getting testy and Francis was beginning to contemplate a second murder.

              “Hotel lady say it is okay. I am…magician.” He said, gesturing down to the trunk. “But she say they don't want me to drag through lobby every time I go to do show.” He looked back  at the man who now shrugged.

              “Okay, whatever. But if you’re lyin’ to me and you get busted for bein’ in here it ain't my problem. And don't say I didn't warn ya.” The man pushed the door open button and waited for Francis to drag his trunk inside the elevator before releasing it. “You goin’ to the ground?” He asked. Francis nodded his head. He’d have to do his best to sneak out of the back exit of the hotel and hope he didn't run in to any more maintenance men in the process.

              When the elevator came to a stop, Francis waited for the maintenance man to step out first but when he insisted on holding the door to be helpful, Francis was forced to drag his trunk in to the concrete floored hallway. The maintenance man paused and watched him for a moment and Francis leaned over to examine one of the locks on the trunk. He fiddled with it, hoping that the man would just walk away and after a brief pause, he did just that. Francis breathed a sigh of relief. He had never given much thought to trying to escape anywhere before, he'd never really had a need to, but now that he did, he found the process to be tiring. His innate desire to feed was beginning to burgeon as he contemplated ridding himself of the inconveniences of life in such close confines with human beings.

              Francis managed to make it through the back exit of the hotel without anyone stopping him. A small mercy for which he was very thankful. All he wanted to do now was to get out of this God forsaken place and go home to the comfort of his cozy albeit drafty, castle.

              At the back of the hotel one of the waiters from the restaurant was smoking a cigarette and remembering that he too was a smoker, Francis stopped to light one up. A waiter was no more likely to suspect him of anything than a stranger on the street, besides, the man looked haggard and uninterested in what Francis was doing.

              “Hey, man, you have a light?” Francis asked as he slipped a cigarette out of his silver cigarette case and put it between his lips. The man looked at him briefly before pulling a cheap orange lighter from his pocket and lighting Francis’s cigarette.

              “What's in the case, amigo?” The man said, his own thick Mexican accent disguising his words.

              “I am…magician.” Francis said before taking an inhale off his cigarette. The waiter nodded his head.

              “That’s cool.” He said. “I used to know a few tricks when I was a kid, but now all I could do is that pickup game where you throw all the cards on the floor.” The waiter laughed and Francis took that as his cue to laugh as well, so he did.

              “Yeah, I have a show” Francis said, tapping the side of his trunk with his foot as he took another drag off his cigarette. The waiter nodded.

              “You need a hand getting’ that thing out front for a cab?” The waiter asked, nodding towards the trunk. Francis smiled.

              “That would be very…how you do say…nice.” Then he held up his half finished cigarette. “I just finish this, if it's okay?” He took another drag and the waiter nodded his head as he squashed the butt of his cigarette with his foot.

              “Sure, take your time, I'm in no rush to get back in there.” The waiter laughed and following his lead, so too did Francis, but deep inside he had a nagging need to break his neck and feed. Just the taste of Anne’s tangy blood had been enough to awaken the beast within and now it was more important than ever that Francis make his escape before he left a trail of destruction in his wake.

              Just as it had been when he arrived, the airport was buzzing with the voices of hundreds of people. Their incessant chattering was deafening and the smell of their sweat was making Francis feel nauseas. As he fought to keep the contents of his stomach in place, he pushed his way through the masses of people and towards the first class lounge.

              It was only when he pushed open the thick glass door and was greeted with a warm blast of air, that Francis began to feel any sense of relief. The large lounge sprawled out in front of him and the hundred of so seats were empty with the exception of a handful of people. Francis reached in to his blazer and pulled out his first class ticket, handing it to the woman at the front desk. She smiled, a broad fake smile and took it from him.

              “Welcome to the first class lounge, Mr. Holmes.” She said with a saccharin sweetness that made Francis’s nostrils flare. “We have a complimentary bar just back there in the corner with beverages and snacks. Please help yourself and if there is anything else that we can get you, please don't hesitate to ask myself of Anne.” Francis’s eyes widened as the name him his ears. Anne. What had he done? “Sir?” The woman at the front desk was staring at him. Francis nodded.

              “Sure, yes. Thank you very much.” He said, once again elaborating the strength of his accent to excuse the strangeness of his behavior. The woman nodded gently and once again pointed to the bar on the far side of the room. Taking back his ticket from her, Francis walked straight towards the bar where he was pleasantly surprised with an array of small airport bottles of liquor. Had grabbed a few various bottles without particularly caring what they contained. He was just about to walk away, when a voice came from behind him.

              “Not a fan of flying, huh?” Francis turned around to find a young woman standing behind him. Her long dark hair was pulled back neatly in to a ponytail and her delightfully blue eyes flitted down to the bottles in his hands. Francis shrugged.

              “Not a fan of anything at the moment.” He said flatly.

              “Ahh, well that is a shame.” The woman said, blinking slowly, her thick eyelashes brushing her cheek.

              “Why is that ‘a shame’?” He asked somewhat impatiently.

              “Because I was going to try and make friends.” She grinned at him innocently and Francis saw a flash of Anne’s pale clammy face.

              “That probably is not such a good idea.” Francis said as he gently brushed past her and found a seat in an empty section of the lounge. Undeterred by his rudeness, the woman followed him. He lifted his eyes to her briefly before setting the airport bottles in his lap and unscrewing the top from one. He swallowed its entire contents in one mouthful.

              “Now
that
was impressive.” The woman said, sitting in the seat directly across from him. “Bet you can't do that with the whiskey.” She flashed that grin again. Not one to back down from a challenge, Francis threw the empty bottle on the seat beside him and picked up a bottle full of whiskey. He held it up for her to see, unscrewed the cap and once again he swallowed its entire contents in one deep gulp. “Wow…I guess you showed me, huh?” Francis threw the second empty bottle on the chair beside him and offered a full bottle to the woman. Taking it she unscrewed the top and held the bottle up to him. “Noroc!” She said before taking a sip.

              “You are from Romania?” He asked, frowning. The woman took another small sip from the bottle, winced and then shook her head.

              “No, but I studied Romanian. In fact I'm heading to Bucharest today to begin a year of studying at the university.” The woman shared so freely of herself that Francis couldn't help but respond.

              “I also am heading to Bucharest.” He said, unscrewing the cap of his last airport bottle. “But that is not the end of my travel. I must then go to Bran.” He took a drink from the bottle, this time leaving it half full.

              “Ahh, then you must know a lot about the history of Vlad the Impaler?” The woman asked, intrigue flashing in her eyes. Francis shrugged.

              “I know a little.” He said, being purposefully evasive. After the past couple of days, he wasn't looking to get in to any conversation that centered on vampires. The woman nodded.

              “I imagine it would be very frustrating to have people ask you that all the time,” she took another sip from her bottle. “I'm sorry. I just find all cultural history of Romania to be so fascinating!” As she said this, Francis noticed something in the way she spoke about his homeland. Whenever she mentioned it, it was as though her entire body came to life when it had otherwise been sleeping. Francis smiled at her, momentarily forgetting the events of the day.

              “To be truthful, not many people are knowledgable of Bran. It is Transylvania they know and Dracula!” Francis emphasized the word Dracula and the young woman laughed.

              “Well, it just so happens that I'm not like many other people.” The woman said. Francis finished off his last bottle and threw it on the chair beside him.

              “Then, I am very glad to be meeting you. I am Francis.” He extended his hand and the young woman took it and shook it firmly.

              “I'm Rosa.” She said before grabbing the cap of her bottle and moving to the seat on the other side of Francis. She leaned in to him. “So, what were you doing here in New York?” She asked. Francis scratched his neck as he tried to think of a plausible excuse.

              “I was looking for someone.” He said, dropping his hand to his thigh. Rosa nodded.

              “Did you find her?” She asked. Francis looked at her with a frown.

              “Why are you thinking that it is a her?” He asked, a slight smirk on his lips. This time it was Rosa who shrugged.

              “Because you are a handsome man.” She said, giving him a wink. “Besides, what man travels for more than twelve hours to look for another man?” She paused for a second reflecting on her question in such an age of sexual freedom. ‘What I meant was…” She tried to correct herself, but Francis waved his hand.

              “I know what you meant.” He said. “I just was giving you a hard time.” Rosa shook her head.

              “Thank goodness, I would have talked myself in to knots trying to get out of that one without offending anybody.” She sighed exaggeratedly and wiped her brow. Francis shook his head. “You didn't answer my question though…did you find her?” Rosa watched as Francis seemed to ponder his answer to her question. Then finally he spoke.

              “I thought I did.” He said. “But it turned out that I was wrong.” Rosa nodded her head slowly and then reaching over she patted the top of his hand.

              “I'm sorry for that.” She said. “Sometimes the worst thing that can happen is finding out that someone isn't who we think they are.” Francis nodded sorrowfully. Rosa had no idea just how right she was.

              It took another two airplane bottles of whiskey for Francis to begin talking again after Rosa had reminded him of his own subterfuge. But there was something about her that seemed to lure him in. Just as Anne’s innocence had pulled him to her, there was something about Rosa that made her almost magnetizing.

              “So you have no wife and no girlfriend, huh?” Rosa squinted at him skeptically. He nodded. “I find that very hard to believe.” She reached over and pinched his arm lightly. “Nope, you feel real alright.” She raised an eyebrow. “Wait a minute…you're not a mass murderer are you?” She paused, her eyes widening. “Or a descendant of Vlad the Impaler coming to New York for a taste of fresh blood!” She giggled at the ridiculousness of her comment, but when she noticed that Francis wasn't laughing she stopped. “Shit, sorry, I did it again, didn't I? God, me and my big mouth!” She reached over with one arm and as best she could, she hugged Francis. The scent of her tickled at Francis’s nose. It wasn't a deplorable scent, not like most of the mortals he had met on his travels so far. No, there was something about Rosa that was different. He leaned in to the hug and took a deep breath, finding out everything he needed to know about her body chemistry. There was definitely something different about Rosa.

              A few seconds of an awkward sideways hug passed before the woman at the front desk called for Mr. Holmes and Miss. Oleya. Francis stood up from his seat, his legs buckled slightly as he fought to keep his balance and Rosa giggled.

              “I suppose it's a good thing that we’re both headed for the same terminal.” She said, standing up beside him and wrapping her arm around his waist. “Come on, we’ll get you a coffee on the way to sober you up. And not the cheap stuff they have in here, we’ll get you a cup of the good stuff.” Rosa gently pushed Francis forward as they made their way out of the first class lounge and towards their terminal.

              After a quick stop at the gourmet coffee shop, Rosa led Francis through the crowded walkway to their terminal. It was a relief for both of them when they were ushered straight on to the plane. Rosa helped Francis in to his seat, and then realizing that her seat was just across from his, she decided to take the one next to him instead.

              “You don't mind, do you?” She asked sweetly. Francis wrapped his fingers around the large coffee cup in front of him and shook his head.

              “It'll be nice to have company for once.” He said. Rosa smiled and reaching across, she helped to guide his cup to his mouth.

              “Be very careful, it’s hot.” She said, tilting the cup slightly so that Francis didn't take too much at once. He sipped the hot coffee and she guided his hand back down to the tray. Francis looked at her with a faint smile on his lips. There was no doubt that Rosa was who he had been looking for. She was everything that a mother should be, but more importantly her body chemistry was right. She had
it
, whatever
it
was. He could smell it on her. She would survive the birth of a child, the birth of
his
child. “What are you looking at?” She asked frowning while a smile still touched her lips.

              “You.” He said. “Just, you.” Rosa shook her head.

              “You need to get some rest.” She said. “You've had far too much to drink far too quickly. You need to sleep it off before you say something you will regret.” She reached over and took his coffee cup off his tray and set it on her own before folding his up for him. “There, now lay back and close your eyes.” She said softly. Francis leaned back against the plush headrest of his seat. He didn't feel like sleeping, besides, if he did dare close his eyes he was afraid of what he might see. So as he leaned back he kept his eyes trained on Rosa.

“Rosa?” He asked. Rosa grinned.

              “Yes, my drunk friend?”

              “Do you suppose when I am back in Bran and you are studying in Bucharest, that you will come to visit me?” Rosa shrugged.

              “Sure. It will be exciting to see the historic sites.” She consciously refrained from mentioning Vlad the Impaler once more but they both knew what she was getting at.

              “Like Vlad’s castle?” Francis asked.

              “Well…I would like to see it…besides, who doesn't love visiting castles? They're always such spooky places when you know the true history behind them. It's almost as if you can hear the walls speaking to you.” Francis pressed his lips together firmly and then blurted out.

              “I live in a castle and it's actually quite cozy.” Rosa slapped him playfully on the arm.

              “Yeah, sure you do.” She said. “Now, go to sleep.”

              “I’m serious.” Francis said, but he knew that she wouldn't believe him. Even if he hadn't been a little worse for wear due to the alcohol, who would believe a complete stranger who said that they lived in a castle? Who lived in a castle anyway?

              “Okay, how many rooms does it have then?” Rosa asked as she watched the economy class passenger’s file on to the plane.

              “Umm…I'm not really sure.” Francis said. There was a silence as he mentally tried to tally them up. After a few minutes he shook his head. “I can't think of them all.” He said disappointedly. Rosa reached over and patted his thigh.

              “Well, if you still live there when I come to visit you, then I will help you count. Deal?” She looked up at him with those big blue eyes. Francis nodded.

              “Deal.” He said.

              As the final passengers filed on to the plane and the door closed, the young slender air hostess that Francis recognized from his first flight began her spiel at the front of the plane. As she spoke, Francis turned to look at the dreary weather out on the tarmac. New York had been nothing like he had imagined it would be. He had found himself overwhelmed by the unfamiliar. The scents, the sounds, the people…it had all been so very foreign to him and yet the irony, he thought, was that they were the ones who would be overwhelmed by him, if only they knew of his secret. As he contemplated his secret, his thoughts turned to Anne. He couldn't help but wonder if anyone had found her yet, her bloodless body sprawled out on his hotel bed. He should have known better. He should have found out who she was before he let things get so far. He should have listened to that voice inside himself. But he hadn't, and now she was dead. He tried to turn his thoughts away from her. To think about going home to the comfort and familiarity of all that it brought with it.

              The massive airplane hurtled down the runway before lifting almost effortlessly in to the air. Francis closed his eyes and as he did he felt Rosa reach across and squeeze his hand gently.

              “It's not all that bad.” She said, keeping her head leaned flat against the headrest of her chair. “It's sort of like a ride at an amusement park.” Francis didn't have the heart to tell her that he had never been to one before. Or, in fact, that he found very little to be amused about in his unusual existence at all. He had a feeling that she might understand, but he also knew that once he started opening up to her, that he wouldn't be able to stop. Then, before he knew it every last one of his secrets would have tumbled out and he would find himself next to another lifeless body. He wouldn't do that to Rosa. He couldn't do that to Rosa. He might have killed before, but then it was only out of necessity. Every single life he had taken had been necessary to his survival.

              Francis glanced across at Rosa. Her eyelids fluttered in her sleep and her lips periodically parted as if she were going to speak. No matter how much he tried to convince himself to let her go, not to give her his contact information, to slip quietly in to the realms from whence he came, he couldn't. There was something in her. Something that told him he needed her, something driven by his need for an heir to his bloodline. Rosa was his one, the one he couldn't let go even if he wanted to. She was to become the mother to his son.

The End

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