The Caretaker of Showman's Hill (Vampire Romance) (6 page)

Chapter 7

By the time Basil reached the Bat House his eyes were burning like the fires of hell. He'd walked most of the way down the hill with his eyes closed. He knew the place like the back of his hand, so it didn’t really matter.

Something smelled strange in the air as he neared the house, but he couldn't quite place it. He took another step forward, only to stumble into something that usually wasn’t there. He fell atop a briar bush, tearing his jacket on the way down.

"What the hell!" He opened his eyes. They stung like crazy, but the sun was setting and he was able to keep them open now even without his sunglasses.

He got to his feet and picked up the overturned kitchen chair. He couldn't imagine what that was doing outside. Who in their right mind would be using it out here?

He grabbed hold of the chair and barged in through the kitchen door.

"What the hell is this doing outside?"

The room went suddenly quiet. Seated at the kitchen table were Cassie, La Roux, and Sheriff Jack Killian. Their plates were loaded down with some wretched looking food. An empty plate sat at the vacant spot at the table.

"Sorry about that, Basil." Cassie quickly jumped up, took the chair from his hands and put it at the empty spot at the table. "I washed the beet stains off of it and it was drying in the sun. You're just in time to join us for dinner."

"Dinner? What the hell is going on here?"

Basil looked at Jack who just shrugged his shoulders and went on eating.

"La Roux?"

La Roux suddenly put her fork down and her smile changed to a frown. If Basil didn't know better he'd swear she was going to cry.

Cassie stepped in front of him, blocking La Roux in a protective manner. "Sit down before the food gets cold."

Who did she think she was to talk to him in that manner? Didn't she know she was playing with fire? Get him mad, and she just might end up
being
dinner.

"I don't eat whatever that is you brewed up."

"It's salmon,” she informed him proudly. “And don’t worry, La Roux told me what you eat."

"She did?" He felt his body stiffen. He looked over to La Roux and scowled.

"I told her you eat borscht," La Roux broke in, looking at him quickly and then letting her gaze drop to the empty spot at the table. He knew she wanted him to sit, and though he didn’t want to join them, he found himself filling the vacant place.

"Oh . . . right. Borscht," he repeated, looking at the table and its occupants. A sudden flash of nostalgia flickered across his brain as he pictured himself sitting at the table with his parents for dinner, years and years ago. What an odd thing to remember.

As Cassie poured some steaming borscht into his bowl, a very old memory of his mother dishing out soup came to mind. Then as fast as it came – it left. He slowly picked up his spoon, remembering that Helga told him it was proper to use it. Immediately he felt Cassie’s vibrations running through it. He also felt a warming sensation that traveled from his fingers through his entire body. He threw the spoon down on the table in alarm.

"What's wrong?" asked Cassie. He looked up to see the confused look on her face. Innocence. So sweet and gullible that it made him angry.

"You've been using my spoon and bowl."

Cassie put the pot of soup back on the stove and sat down, folding her napkin on her lap, staying very calm and nonchalant.

"It was all I could find this morning." She picked up her fork and took a petite bite of salmon, then licked her lips. “I’m not sure what the problem is, after all, I washed it.”

All the while, her eyes stayed locked on him. He didn’t like the way she looked at him. He didn’t like the way his dormant emotions had gone out of control ever since she’d set foot in his establishment. He wanted her out of here. Now.

"Why are you still here?" he growled.

"I live here now."

"Like hell you do."

"I told her she could stay, Basil." La Roux looked at him sheepishly.

"You what?" he spat. He raised his hands so quickly, he knocked into his bowl of soup and spilled some on the table. Cassie quickly reached over the table with an extra napkin and wiped it up.

"I'm taking care of her, and in return she's giving me a place to live,” Cassie explained. She raised a glass of milk to her lips and Basil felt fire in his veins as he watched her swallow over and over. His eyes traveled down that long, beautiful, bare neck. The desire to taste it was strong, and he pursed his lips closed tight, hoping his fangs wouldn’t emerge.

"There doesn't seem to be any harm in it so far." Jack spoke without looking at him, continuously shoveling the food into his mouth. "Not to mention, she's one hell of a good cook."

"You've been a bachelor too damn long, Killian," Basil remarked. "Roots from the garden would probably taste good to you."

"Don't knock my cooking until you try it," Cassie challenged him.

The soup didn't look much different than Helga's brew. Basil’s stomach was telling him he was long past due for a meal, so he thought he may as well try it.

He didn't dare touch the spoon again. Just knowing her mouth touched it would drive him over the edge. He picked up the bowl in two hands and brought it to his lips.

Cassie cleared her throat, and he knew Jack and La Roux were staring at him, but he didn't care. He took a sip and tried to swallow. It was the worst borscht he'd ever tasted. He spat it on the ground and got to his feet.

"I take it you don't care for my cooking?" Cassie kept her face stone-like, but Basil read her mind. She had been trying to impress him by cooking him dinner. For god's sake, she liked him. He should probably have been flattered, but he was furious. He didn't want her to like him. He didn't want her to cook for him or do anything remotely nice in any way. He just wanted her to leave him alone and go back to her human life before she wound up dead or something even worse. He'd do whatever it took to get her out of there as fast as possible.

"You don't know how to cook, so don't bother trying again," he said, hoping to discourage her. If he got her mad enough, she may just leave on her own.

"I don't know about that, Basil," Jack broke in. “I thought it was pretty good." He handed his plate to Cassie for seconds. Basil threw him a menacing look, and Jack took the plate back, empty. "Come to think of it, I've got rounds to make. I'll be back later on." The sheriff got up and walked out of the room quickly.

"La Roux, I want to talk to you," Basil commanded in a domineering tone, getting up from his chair.

"She's not done with her dinner yet," interrupted Cassie.

"Now!"

La Roux jumped from her chair and followed Basil into the bar area. He took one step into the room and halted. The place looked different. Much different. It was too damned clean. The walls sparkled, the floors shined, even the bottles of booze looked cleaner.

There were checkered tablecloths on the tables with vases of fresh cut flowers. The front door was wide open and the windows uncovered - and squeaky clean. He could see the sun disappearing on the horizon, its last few rays streaming in the clean windows and reflecting off the bottles of amber liquor.

"What's she done to this place?" he asked in horror.

"It looks nice, doesn't it?" La Roux smiled at him, making matters worse.

"Why are the windows uncovered?" he asked in a pure panic.

"What does it matter, Basil? The only time you and the others are in here is at night."

"But what about you, La Roux?" He shook his head, not being able to believe this.

"It doesn't bother me any more." Her words hit him hard, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to think. He tried to read her mind, but his own mind was too confused and it didn’t work.

He went over to the bar and poured himself a glass of Grand Mariner, thinking he’d call her bluff. "You're lying, little lady." He watched her expression, but could tell nothing. He raised the glass to his lips, but stopped as he heard her next words.

"Cassie took me out in the sun today."

He eyes met hers, and this time she didn’t look away. He scanned her mind again, and this time it worked. He could see that what she said was true. He also knew she was waiting for him to yell at her, afraid she’d disappointed him. He was shocked by the announcement, but didn’t want to yell at her. She’d seemed very fragile lately. He cared for her deeply, and didn’t want to upset her. Instead, he maintained his temper – with words anyway. The glass shattered in his hand as well as several other glasses on the bar. Andre, the bartender, glanced to Basil quickly, then made excuses to the patrons as he cleaned up the mess.

"So,” said Basil slowly, not able to look at her when he spoke, “you went out in the sun today and . . . nothing happened?" He waited for her answer, not sure what he really wanted her to say.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" she replied with a cocky attitude that was a lot like Cassie’s.

"Let's keep it that way, La Roux.” He reached out and laid his hand atop hers. “There's no way I want to lose you." Being a vampire, he didn't know how to show emotion. Except anger, lately. That one came to him very easy, especially since Cassie arrived. Still, he wanted to show La Roux that he cared for her. He wanted to show her he was happy she was able to go out in the sun, even though the thought of it scared him. Would she be so lucky the next time she tried it? Damn, he’d never felt this way before.

La Roux wasn't quite like him or the others. She was of mixed blood. He knew how to treat Antonio and the boys and the others that inhabited the Bat House. They were easy. They were just like him. La Roux was different. She was like a delicate flower that had just begun to bloom. One bad storm and she could be nipped in the bud.

"Anyone for dessert?" Cassie popped her head through the swinging door holding two bowls of some steamy cold pink stuff.

"Sure," smiled La Roux. She looked over to Basil, waiting for his answer. He just shook his head, and La Roux’s smile disappeared. “I won’t be joining you after all,” she told Cassie. She glanced at her watch. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I guess I'd better wake up the girls. We've got a business to run here."

Basil gave her a nod of approval at her answer, and she marched up the stairs.

Cassie still stood there, a bowl in each hand, awaiting an answer from him.

"Don't look at me.” He pushed off the bar stool and wiped his hands on his pants. “I don't eat the damn stuff."

"Well if you don’t eat strawberry ice cream then what do you eat?" Her cocky attitude was back, and for some reason it annoyed him.

He pushed past her into the kitchen and made his way to the fridge.

"None of your business."

He grabbed a jar of blood from the back of the fridge. Then he came over to her and took the bowl from her hand.

"May I?"

She smiled and handed him the bowl. He read her mind and almost laughed. She was pleased with herself, thinking she’d succeeded in getting him to eat it.

He walked over to the sink and dumped it in.

"What are you doing?" Cassie rushed up and peered over his shoulder.

"Where'd you get these bowls and plates?" he asked.

"I couldn’t find any dishes. I figured that girl upstairs had them all in her bag. I didn’t want to bother her, so I bought more."

"They'll come in handy for feeding time."

He opened the jar and poured some of the liquid into the bowl.

"Feeding time? You mean dinner. You sure have a strange way with words."

"I mean feeding time." He screwed the top on the jar and handed it to her. "Put this back in the fridge."

Cassie sighed in defeat and headed toward the fridge, doing as he commanded.

"Oh, so you like your borscht cold?" she asked, obviously trying to understand him. “That’s why you didn’t eat yours earlier?”

"No, I like it hot. And for your information, this isn't borscht."

"Then what is it?" One hand on the fridge, Cassie inspected the jar with her other.

Basil looked at her and smiled. He shouldn’t toy with her like this, but she deserved it. After all, she’d caused him enough trouble. Now he’d have a little fun of his own.

"It's something much better than borscht, Cassie."

"Really?” She inspected the jar again, seeming very interested. “Some kind of wine?"

"No,” he responded, looking forward to her next reaction. “Cassie, it's blood."

Chapter 8

Cassie's fingers involuntarily dropped the jar. As if in slow motion, she watched it fall to the floor. It should have broke. It should have shattered into a million pieces and bled all over the kitchen floor, but it never touched the ground.

Basil dove to the floor so fast she never even saw him coming. He grabbed the jar and rolled to the side, sprang to his feet, and held it with two hands in front of her.

"How . . . how did you do that?" Shocked, she couldn’t believe how fast the man could move.

"Never mind that. Why did you drop the jar? Don't you realize how precious this stuff is?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that you shocked me when you said it was blood."

"You have a problem with that?"

"Do I have a problem with that?" she echoed. "No. Absolutely not. I have no problem with the fact you keep the refrigerator stocked with blood. After all, isn't it everyone who has a fetish for the stuff?" She wavered back and forth feeling like she was about to faint. Memories of her dead mother covered in blood kept coming to the surface. Basil reached out for her and she stepped away.

"Don't touch me," she warned him.

"Just trying to help."

He looked at her strangely, and then put the jar in the fridge. He pulled a chair out from the opposite side of the table and sat down. "Why don't you ask me?"

"Ask you what?" Her mind swarmed with the vampire myths and the story she was scheduled to do for Strange Sightings. Still, she wouldn’t accept the thought that vampires were real.

"What's on your mind at this very moment?"

"There's nothing on my mind." If only he really knew.

"Liar. Just say it and you'll feel better."

"What are you? Some kind of mind reader or something?"

"Something," he answered and waited.

Cassie felt her face flush and looked down to the table. How could she tell him that blood freaked her out because of what happened to her mother? An accident with a paring knife, and Cassie wasn’t there at the time to help. Her mother was too sickly to be trying to cook for herself. Cassie blamed herself for not being more efficient.

"Why didn't you tell me your mother died by bleeding to death?"

She looked up at him and gasped.

"It was an accident but you blame yourself for not being there?”

She jumped up and backed away from him. "Who are you and how can you read my mind?"

"Let's just say I'm sort of a psychic." He got up and walked over to the sink. He grabbed the bowl of blood and headed for a door in the kitchen opposite the one to the basement.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"It's time for a feeding." He turned back toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Care to come along and watch?"

Her eyes widened, and her heart pounded. This could be her big story after all if she wasn't so damned frightened. Talk about interviews with vampires, well she'd be sitting in on feeding time if this was all true. If. With Basil, she didn’t know what to think.

"Too scared to come?" he asked and headed up the stairs.

"I'll be right there," she answered, planning on grabbing her tape recorder from the bedroom first.

"Don't even think of it," came Basil's low voice as he disappeared up into the attic.

Irritated by his mind reading tricks, Cassie followed him instead. She groped the walls looking for a light switch in the dark.

"There isn't one," came his voice from up ahead. "I had it removed years ago."

"Stop doing that!" she shouted.

"Stop doing what?” he called out, his voice partially muffled. “You can't see me in this darkness, so you have no idea what I’m doing."

"I'm talking about that mind reading trick,” she spat, heading toward the sound of his voice. “I don't like it."

She held on to the wall, pushing spider webs out of her face. She had to be crazy to follow this strange man with a bowl of blood up into a darkened attic. Crazy or just desperate for a paying story, anyway. She heard his footsteps stop, and then the sound of a strange almost inaudible clicking.

"What's that noise?" she asked.

"Dinner call," he answered.

She reached the top of the stairs and tried to look around. If there were any windows in the place, they too must have been boarded up. It was pitch black, and unless her mind was playing tricks on her, she thought she heard some kind of wings fluttering. She was sure that any minute now she'd see vampires hanging by their knees from the rafters. Then they'd probably swoop after her and suck the blood from her body.

Something flew at her and she screamed and covered her head. She lost her balance and started to fall down the steep stairs. Strong arms shot out from the darkness and slipped around her waist.

"Don't scream, you're going to scare them," came Basil's soft voice whispering in her ear.

"Scare who?" she asked, trying to keep her body from trembling.

"Let me show you." He pulled her along with him across the attic. She heard a scraping sound and suddenly the room was filled with moonlight. Basil had opened an attic window.

He looked sexier than any man she'd ever seen, standing there in the moonlight. The beams illuminated his dark hair to a bluish white overcast. He must have removed his jacket somewhere along the way, because she could see the muscles in his biceps peeking out from under his colorful t-shirt.

"I'd like to see what you’re talking about," was all she could say. She'd momentarily forgotten her fear. Now she found herself lost in this man's eyes. Dark eyes on his golden face intrigued her to study his face in the moonlight. A good strong nose led to a thin mouth. His tongue shot out and licked his lips, just about sending her through the ceiling.

His one arm was still around her waist, and what at first had seemed to be a cold hand on her, suddenly got a bit warmer.

"You want to kiss me," he whispered.

"No, I don’t," she lied, though it was exactly what she was thinking.

"I don't buy it." His face got closer to hers, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “So go ahead.”

Daringly, she leaned forward and boldly placed her lips on his. So soft, so sensuous, so alive as he gently rubbed his lips against hers. Then she realized just what she was doing. She tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her and he pulled her closer. Instead of kissing her mouth this time, his lips wandered to her forehead, then down to her cheek, then around to the back of her neck.

Next he did something that she found to be very strange, yet erotic. He licked her skin. If any other stranger had tried this, she’d be disgusted. But when Basil did it, she oddly welcomed it.

A combination of licks and kisses covered her neck, and worked their way down to the collar of her low cut shirt. It didn't matter how dark it was, her eyes were closed now anyway. She wickedly wanted him to nuzzle her breasts and push his hips against hers. Something about this man made her feel horribly out of control - and she liked it.

His next move was what she’d been anticipating. She could feel his arousal as he pushed his leg between hers and backed her into the wall. His mouth nibbled at her breasts right through her blouse.

"Cassie, I can't stop myself. You're driving me mad."

She rather liked the way it felt to have such control over him. Not to mention the fact she was feeling the same way with a man she barely knew. It only excited her more.

"Do it," she whispered, being close to shattering in his arms. She wanted so much more, that she could barely contain herself. The passion between them was like a raging, uncontrollable fire.

"You don't mean that." She could hear the wanting in his voice.

"I do." When had she become so carefree as to want to do something like this? She felt she barely knew herself since she’d met this man named Basil.

He pulled her to the floor and got atop her. His tongue licked her neck again, and this time she felt his teeth as he playfully nipped her skin. Then his teeth felt sharper and the bites not as playful. Fear coursed through her as she came to her senses. What started out as nothing more than lust was going to turn into a very dangerous situation.

She turned her head away from him wondering what to do, when she came face to face with a horrid creature. Too frightened to even scream, her eyes bulged as she surveyed a bat. Its furry face was covered with blood, its mouth wide opened – its fangs getting ready to sink into her skin, she was sure.

She screamed like she'd never done before. Basil quickly held his hand over her mouth to silence her. This was it. He was going to kill her. She was trapped in an attic with a sex-starved murderer and it was all her fault for being so careless and stupid. That was her last thought before her world went black and consciousness slipped from her.