Twice Bitten (50 page)

“I still can’t get over this—you’re really in Nashville!” he gushed, once we were comfortably seated. “I have to admit, I almost didn’t come here. If I’d never spoken before to some British lady named Nora, then I wouldn’t have. But, she reminded me about what happened in France, just before last Thanksgiving. It’s the thing that convinced me this morning that I needed to come. I’m really glad I did!”

“Nora’s pretty amazing,” I said, wondering what exactly she did say in order to convince the boyfriend whom I hadn’t spoken to for six months to pique enough interest to meet with me. “I wonder how she got your cell phone number?”

I thought back to when I was on Racco’s yacht speeding across the Atlantic last year. I no longer had my Iphone, which had been left in my dorm room when Massey Hall was attacked by Ralu’s savage fiends. Maybe I had written Peter’s number down somewhere to where it was in a pocket at the time. Or, perhaps when Peter was brought to France against his wishes, he either told them the number or they confiscated his handset and got it that way.

“That’s the craziest thing about this, Txema,” he said, shaking his head. “Nora called me at my parents’ place. That’s where I’ve been living since they closed UT to freshmen and sophomore students until next fall. Classes are only in session right now for juniors and seniors, and they’re handling those on-line. There’s literally no one on campus in Knoxville since nearly four hundred people have died there. And all the other colleges and Universities in Tennessee have shut down for the summer, until this Chupacabra thing gets resolved.”

“Did you ever tell any of the vampires in France that you’re from Nashville?” I wondered if follow-up questions would’ve uncovered the fact that his parents lived there.

“No, not that I know of. They kept me in that fucking dungeon.... Until the night I saw you, I thought they were going to kill me,” he said, frowning. It was as if he had been unexpectedly forced to relive the worst aspects of that experience. He paused to take a sip from a beer that had arrived from the bar. “Do you want anything? Perhaps a glass of wine, or a cocktail?”

“I’ll take a glass of chardonnay if you have it available,” I said to the waiter that had brought Peter’s beer. “Do you mind if we go ahead and order our food, too?”

I had only glanced at the menu, but I had begun to feel quite weak since we sat down. I also hoped this would help move us away from what happened in France and back to the here and now.

“I’ll take the filet,” said Peter, when the waiter told us that he didn’t mind waiting a moment for me to decide what I wanted. The stuffed crab sounded the best to me, and after Peter finished the rest of his order I went ahead and completed mine.

“I’ve really missed you!” I said, once the waiter left us alone to ourselves again. “I can’t believe how much…it’s been so crazy with everything going on.”

I couldn’t believe how hard it was to talk to him, and part of that was because I felt unsure of how our shared ceremony of vampire sex had affected him. Granted, he didn’t have to physically touch anyone other than me during that event, and no one touched him. But, nearly two hundred undead souls watched Peter achieve orgasm with me. I only hoped the fruit of that forced union, Alaia, was enough to rekindle a new connection between him and I. A bond that above all else would be a good thing for our daughter.

“I’ve really missed you, too, Txema,” he said to me, smiling wanly until he looked over at Alaia, whose basket was perched on a chair between us. His face immediately lit up again.

I suddenly had the distinct feeling that something had really changed since we last were together as a couple. Something that went far beyond the fateful events of last November.

“How are your parents?” I said, looking for a distraction until I could get a handle on what had changed. “And how are they taking all of this current craziness going on in the world?”

“They’re good…well at least as good as can be expected,” he said, bringing his attention back to me. “Dad still is the flexible one, dropping his case load to share with other law firms in the city. Mom worries more than she used to, since my folks’ retirement plans to move to Key West in a few years has been hindered by their 401k accounts taking a severe hit from what’s happened lately on Wall Street.”

“Are you seeing anyone these days?”

Really this was my main concern, but I needed to find the right moment to ensure an honest answer came from him. His smile dipped ever so slightly, which was all I needed to know that indeed there was someone else.

“What’s her name?

I tried to sound cheerful, despite the knife I felt going through my heart. We always love the ones beyond our reach the most, or so I’ve heard. In this case, I fully expected someone new to be in Peter’s life—long before Alaia’s birth. But I didn’t expect to feel the massive tug on my heart when I saw him in person again. Truly, some things are better where they’ve been left, so both people can move on with their lives. Now that I realized what I’d lost in this fantastic man, my hunch was he could happily move on with his new life—even with the knowledge that he was now a brand new papa. As for me, however, I’d have to work through a painful separation all over again.

“Her name is Sara,” he said, and then our food arrived. I had to wait through several agonizing minutes for him to go on and tell me more.

It almost destroyed my appetite, despite the excellent cuisine at our table. The waiter even managed to produce a small bottle of milk for Alaia that I carefully monitored, since it meant something a little different than she was used to drinking or eating.

“I have a picture of her I can show you after lunch, if you’d like to see it,” he said, picking up where he left off when halfway finished with his filet. His smile was hopeful, as if he desperately wanted my approval of his new love. Despite all of his intelligence and charm, I remembered then that he often missed the subtleties that an older, or at least more mature man would notice. Like the fact I had hardly made a dent in the stuffed crab upon my plate. “Have you been seeing anyone lately?”

Sure, Petee-boy. I’ve been dating up a storm. In fact, I’m a real hit with Chinese dragons and Nepalese Buddhists.

“Not at this time,” I told him, trying hard to keep my smile from fading. “Alaia is all I can handle in my life right now.” I lied. Still it helped draw enough energy to boost my smile back up.

“Hmmmm,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. He resumed work on the filet and sautéed mushrooms.

“So, what’s she like?” I persisted. “Did you meet her at school or here in Nashville?”

“We met at a spring music festival in Franklin, not far from where my parents live,” he said. “Her mom and my mom grew up together, and when they introduced us, we sort of hit it off. Sara’s a great gal, and a lot of fun to be with. She’s studying voice at Belmont College here in town, and should have her degree finished in the next couple of years. I’d bet you two would hit it off, if ever you’re back in town again.”

“She sounds wonderful, Peter,” I said, holding the smile while thinking to myself that this ‘great gal’ Sara and I might not have so much in common, other than competition for Peter’s affections. Not so much me, as I was already in the preliminary stages of moving on from him. He obviously had found someone to replace what we had together, so there wasn’t any point in trying to hang on like some desperate femme fatale. But my daughter—our offspring—deserved the highest devotion from her true father, which was Peter’s sole right and responsibility in my mind. “I’m happy for you both!”

Saying such a thing…a ‘true’ white lie designed to free him of any thoughts about my welfare while enabling me to verbally separate myself from him gave me enough peace at the moment to finish my meal. I knew I needed the nourishment, and I took full advantage of everything in reach—including the rolls, desert mints, etc. Peter gave me an odd look since this wasn’t normal behavior for me last year, but he also wasn’t aware that with all of the travel and time changes I hadn’t eaten anything during the past sixteen hours, and only one other meal in Nepal, thirty-six hours ago.

“I guess you were really hungry, huh?” he commented, after the waiter came by to tell us that the tab for lunch had been paid for in advance ‘by Nora Sterling’. I pulled out a couple of twenties from my purse and left them for the waiter before Peter could pay for the tip. I also asked the waiter, a guy named Brandon, to offer a special thanks to the hostess for getting a bottle of milk for Alaia, since her shift had ended and she had left for the day.

After lunch, we walked around the hotel gardens, talking about old times while avoiding the tragedy in Knoxville that sparked my globetrotting misadventure. He never brought up his good friend Johnny Ayers—Tyreen’s former boyfriend—and I never revealed the fact that she had since joined the vampire kingdom that closely guarded me. Peter remembered to show me the picture of his new sweetheart, and I felt envious when I saw it. Not so much the striking blue-eyed blonde as I was of her smiling beau sharing the shot with her. They were on a beach someplace, either Panama City or Destin, Florida would be my guess. A setting sun and shimmering waves in the background…Peter had never looked so happy with me as he did in that photo with Sara.

“I’m still using the same Yahoo address I had in Knoxville,” said Peter, after we exited the hotel together. “I’d love to hear how you and Alaia are doing.”

“‘Skittles Angry Junkie’?” I smiled wryly.

“Yeah, that’s still the user name I go by!” He laughed. “Come here and let me give you and Alaia a big hug.”

I drew close, inhaling the mixture of his scent and the Ralph Lauren cologne he’s always preferred for what I believed would be the last time. Then we embraced. Being in the exclusive vampire world—in which he’d never be welcome as a non-beneficial human—there would be no need for child support checks and mandatory visitations to see Alaia. Even though I prayed fervently in my heart that Peter and Alaia would become as close as any child and father ever have, I couldn’t picture any logistics on how that could work. It was these thoughts and his million-dollar smile that I took with me as we drew apart.

“You’re my little girl, and even though I won’t see you a lot, I want you to know something,” he said to Alaia, cradling our smiling baby girl in his arms. “I’m so proud to be your father, and I’ll always love you, Alaia. Always.”

It was extremely difficult to keep from crying, and I knew my eyes were misting as my vision began to blur. Peter looked as if he wanted to cradle me in his arms, too, but couldn’t. Or, more likely, wouldn’t—as if he somehow knew it would lead him back to me and away from his new life with Sara. His was now a life free of vampire obligations…despite there being no escape in the modern world from vampire violence.

I watched him walk to his car while I held on tightly to our daughter. She was more restless than usual, squirming in my arms as if she wanted one last chance to be near her daddy…to hear his voice and feel his touch. He drove past us in his cherished Camaro as we stood near the Opryland Hotel’s main entrance, meeting my weak wave with an enthusiastic one of his own. It was the last time I ever saw him like that—so alive and vibrant.

But again, I’m getting ahead of myself….

It was almost four o’clock when we parted ways, which meant we would’ve had more than an hour’s wait for wonderful Mitch to show up with his limousine. Since I knew the drill on what it would take to get back into the airport and to our hangar, I took matters into my own hands. A personable front desk clerk named Marie was grateful for the twenty-dollar bill I gave her for calling the limousine company, once we figured out who it was. I even left Mitch one hundred dollars in an envelope with a short n’ sweet ‘thank you’ note. Then, Marie arranged for the hotel’s airport shuttle to take me to the airport.

That was the easy part. It didn’t dawn on me that I’d have to find some way inside the actual airfield to get to the hangar until the shuttle driver couldn’t get me any closer than the baggage claim. That really royally sucked! Especially when I had to explain to the ultra-friendly, assault rifle-toting guard on duty that I had to somehow get to Hangar 8.

Luckily, tears and an infant in tow helped. After my emotional whirlwind afternoon with Peter, the tears came easily, and even Alaia pitched in with some cranky tired tears of her own. In less than a minute, we went from likely detainees for the TBI or ATF folks to riding in the back of a military jeep up to our hangar. I offered to tip the driver for his kindness, but he scowled and waved me off.

At least we were back where we were supposed to be, and with well over two hours left before curfew. As I walked up to the hangar entrance, I noticed a slightly smaller jet than ours sitting less than fifty feet away. The plane looked a lot like the one my vampire friends and I took to the Chinese Himalayas from France. I was about to shrug off the similarities when a familiar voice called to me from beneath the nose of the plane.

“Mademoiselle Ybarra—come here, please!”

Shielding the late afternoon sun from my eyes with my hand, I saw a blonde headed man step out from the plane’s shade to where I could clearly see him.

“Mercel? What are you doing here?” I was completely surprised to see Racco’s most trusted servant standing near our assigned hangar.

“We have come for you!” he said, smiling as he motioned for me to hurry over to him. “Come quickly, as there is someone here to see you—someone you asked me about when you and I last talked!”