Twice Bitten (14 page)

Silence followed, which heightened my anxiety. I almost spoke again in an effort to clarify my words and intent, but hesitated. The bartender smiled at me again, and I took that as a good thing while sending forth a silent prayer I was right about him.

“Why don’t you come up here?” said the owner of the voice, closer, as if he leaned over the balcony I pictured in my mind. His English was clear, concise, with just a slight trace of an eastern European accent. “You must be famished, and we have a wonderful array of delicacies for you to choose from. Mercel will show you the way.”

The man told the bartender in French to come get me and bring me upstairs, based on my loose translation of the words I could pick out. The bartender, who I assumed was Mercel, smiled and came up to me and opened the gate. I stepped through it, surprised at how weak my legs felt. 

A glance around me confirmed more of the same exquisite workmanship on the cabinetry, paneling, and floors. Although, the ship was not quite as large as I initially thought. The ship’s bow was a mere thirty feet from where I stood, and I assumed the engines I heard marked where the stern sat. So, maybe it was one hundred and twenty feet in length? That would be a fair estimate. A yacht, it would still be considered large by that standard.

Mercel led me over to another circular staircase, and once we climbed up to the next level, the mysterious man I had conversed with a minute or so earlier appeared before us. Strikingly handsome, with mirthful blue eyes and dimpled cheeks when he smiled, his jet-black hair was laced with thin white streaks along the temples. Seemingly older than anyone I’d met lately, excluding the garish Ralu, his presence exuded strongly from where he stood. No doubt heads turned whenever this person entered a room, and I’m sure the swoon of women would be a tiresome event for such a man. Just enough facial lines to indicate maturity, his full hairline told me that he couldn’t be any older than forty. 

Any female, regardless of age, would find him desirable. Especially if he addressed them like he spoke to me right after Mercel and I stepped into the yacht’s large dining area.

“Txema, it is indeed a pleasure to finally meet the girl who has caused such an
uproar in the vampire world!”

He chuckled warmly, and then motioned for me to join him at a large table in the center of the room. Surrounded by windows, the view of endless miles of deep water and the sun behind us confirmed we were headed east. On the great Atlantic. To France? That was the logical assumption.

“If you prefer, Mercel or myself will gladly prepare a plate for you, or you may help yourself,” he advised. “It appears you have an injury to your right foot. Would you like for me to look at it? I have some medical knowledge that may help.”

He pulled a chair out for me to sit down in at the table when I waved off his offer about my foot. I couldn’t even remember the last time a male had done that for me, certain it would’ve been my father when I was a young girl.

“Thank you, I will help myself,” I told him, thinking forthright confidence on my part could only enhance my position. “My ankle will be all right…I just need to go easy with it.”

I decided right then to guard myself against his copious charms. He carried himself with such regality, and seeing Mercel’s similar infatuation to my own told me this man must either be the owner of this vessel or its captain. Still, I found it hard to picture a captain dressed like a jet-setting playboy, wearing an expensive burgundy sweater and tan slacks. I didn’t think the man’s Gucci shoes would be considered standard naval fare either.  

“Who are you?” I asked again, deciding the mystery to this man’s identity had prolonged far enough.

“I am Raccczis de Saint Germain,” he advised, while filling a plate with shrimp and caviar, along with a handful of crackers. “I am pleased to be your host, and you may call me Racco. Did you enjoy a good rest in the room that Chanson picked out for you? If not, I can arrange for better accommodations on my ship.”

“I guess it was all right… Is she the one who brought me here?”

“Yes, she and Garvan carried you on board in Charleston, South Carolina,” he confirmed. “We should reach our destination sometime Tuesday morning.”

“Where is that?”

A lump formed in my throat as I asked this question, immediately alarmed that not only was I already far from either Tennessee or Virginia, but moving farther away by the minute. Chanson had asked me to return to France, and made it clear that she and her vampire partners would override my initial decision to stay at the University if it became necessary. An all-out attack by the ‘others’ would certainly count as a qualifying event, I’m sure.

“We are headed to the south of France,” he said, motioning for Mercel to pour him a glass of red wine. “Would you like something other than water to drink, Txema?”

He pointed to the Perrier bottle I presently held. So far I had settled on a large cinnamon roll and a slice from a chocolate torte. To make sure I didn’t throw myself into a sugar high followed by a painful crash, I added a few shrimp, as well. 

“No…not yet, anyway,” I told him, waving off his offer. “I suppose there’s no way to talk you into taking me back to Virginia, is there?”

I could only imagine the extreme worry and pain my parents were suffering right then, as surely they had no idea I survived the previous night’s attack. I hadn’t checked my watch until that moment, and it read 1:17 p.m. Eastern time. Judging from the sun’s position, it was a couple of hours later that afternoon in the mid-Atlantic.  The fact I slept so long—at least eighteen hours by my calculations—was especially alarming.

“While I understand your concerns about family and friends in the United States, the decision to turn back is not mine or yours to make,” he advised, his tone compassionate. His expression turned serious as he studied me, and then he sighed. “You are fortunate to be alive, Txema, and after the near-successful extermination of your relatives who bear your rare gift, I am sad to say that it may be quite some time before you can return safely to your home in Virginia, or pursue your education anywhere in America.”

I nodded quietly, determined to hide the ever-worsening dread ready to seize my heart. But, he was right…I didn’t need further evidence to understand the truth of his words. The images of Tyreen’s wounds and Elaine Johnson’s death more than sufficed—not to mention the other girls that had died earlier who bore my likeness.

“Perhaps when Chanson and the others awaken, they will allow you to place a phone call to your parents in Virginia, eh?” he suggested, the infectious warmth from his smile illuminating his countenance and fueling his natural presence. Racco’s persona exuded incredible sex appeal. 

“That would be nice,” I agreed, trying not to think long on what it would be like to lie naked with this man who surely was old enough to be my father. “So, how bad was it?”

“How bad was what?”

“The attack. The one in Tennessee.”

“I’ve only heard the initial reports,” he advised, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Thirteen deaths in all last night, and another two dozen were injured—most while fleeing the dormitory.”

“Massey Hall?” Not to be morbid, but I needed to be sure we spoke of the same place.

“Yes, that is the one,” he confirmed. “Chanson told me that it was Garvan who urged her and Armando to stay close to you last night, instead of waiting on your promised call to them for help. I assume you know what she meant by this?”

“Yes….I tend to be a little on the stubborn side.” I smiled, sheepishly.

“No? You don’t say!” he teased.

“Okay, I’m known to be
quite
stubborn,” I confessed, and for the first time that day I chuckled. It felt good, even if it only lifted my sadness for a moment.

“I wish I could tell you more about what happened, but that is all they told me, when they arrived at the boat just before midnight,” he said. He motioned for Mercel to help himself to some of the food. It seemed like an extravagance for just Racco and me, and even after including Mercel. But then Racco called the waiters over and invited them to join us, as well. “I hate for all of this to go to waste. Dinner will be in just a few hours, and normally the staff eats earlier.”

The impish glint in his eyes let me know this was a playful jab at me and my late arousal that afternoon.

“You all are not vampires…correct?” 

Silly question based on what I’d seen. Moving about in the daylight and eating solid food and non-blood fluids. Even so, I wanted to be sure. Besides, the real questions I wanted to ask, involving the fate of Peter, Tyreen, and Johnny, would have to wait until the sleeping vampires awoke.

“Ha! That is
very
funny!” He laughed heartily, and when Mercel and the two waiters, who looked like Mercel’s younger brothers, acted confused, Racco spoke to them in that strange French dialect again. The entire table erupted into uproarious laughter. All at my expense.

To be a good sport, I joined in, snickering at the silliness of my suggestion. Never in a million years would I have uttered anything like this just a week earlier.

“Maybe you could use some time to rest before tonight,” said Racco. “When you return to your room, you will find fresh towels and linens, in addition to a change of clothes waiting for you. Your size information was given to me by Chanson late last week, to ensure your every need was expediently provided for.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I said, wondering how extensive the vampires’ and my current host’s knowledge of me was. “I could use a shower.”

“All right. Mercel will show you to your cabin downstairs, and we will look for you around eight o’clock tonight.”

After Racco gave another advisement in French to his assistant, Mercel led me downstairs. He allowed me to find my way back to my room once we reached the bottom floor.

Racco was right. In addition to the bed I slept in being made up, clean towels and the change of clothes he promised were waiting for me on top of the bedspread. I smiled for a moment, as the green silk blouse and black slacks were exactly the style I would have chosen for myself. Even the shoes matched my taste, although for quite a bit more money than I could’ve afforded on my own.

I continued to smile, until I stepped into the bathroom and removed my sweatshirt. Under the overhead light’s soft glow, the twin teardrops along the left side of my neck were swollen and red. I’m sure at some point during the previous nineteen hours they were fully inflamed, and definitely the exit points for my blood. A vampire had drunk from me, no doubt, and taken far more blood than last time. Enough to leave two angry welts above my birthmarks, and keep me dead to the world until it was far too late to turn back and go home.

Chapter 13

A long, warm bath did wonders for my fatigue, and it helped ease the soreness in my ankle, somewhat. That is, until I tried to stand on it.

I nearly fell over in the bathroom. Once I regained my balance and relied more on my left foot, I managed to dry my hair and get dressed without further incident. Just before 7:30 p.m., according to a large seaman’s clock on the wall across from the bed, a sharp knock resounded from the other side of my door.

“Who is it?”

“It is me, Garvan.”

“Garvan?”

“Yes. I am here to escort you to dinner,” he replied. “I assume you are ready to leave your room?”

I looked around me, just to be sure, and yes, he was correct. Even my makeup and lipstick were done, and I had already collected my billfold that held my driver’s license and student I.D.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I said, reaching for the door. I hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath before opening it. The image of Garvan’s gorgeous face and intense green eyes previously emblazoned in my mind proved to be an inadequate replica of seeing the real thing again. Once I opened the door, I found him smiling at me, carrying a bouquet of fresh roses, blood red. Nearly two dozen in all.

“What are these for?” I asked, surprised and pleased. I felt my face flush.