Twice Bitten (51 page)

“What??”
I nearly shrieked, as a volatile mixture of excitement and pent up anger flowed through me.
“No…NO, this can’t be happening to me today!!”

It couldn’t be true—the perfect antidote for my grieving heart couldn’t have just landed and was now waiting for me. Regardless, I damned near fell on my ass running to where Mercel stood, trying to keep my baby’s bounces to a minimum.

“Yes, it is true,” Mercel said, once I was close to him. He gave me a quick hug before finishing his task of pulling a portable staircase up to the plane. Meanwhile, another servant opened the door to the plane’s entrance. “He is waiting for you right now, Mademoiselle. It will be you and him, only, and your baby girl.”

He motioned for me to climb the stairs, and I eagerly scrambled up to the entrance, scarcely noticing that I nearly ripped the heel off from my right shoe. Just as long as Alaia and I didn’t trip and fall was all I cared about. That and getting inside the plane before the person inside could escape, or the whole damned experience turned out to be a cruel joke.

As soon as the steward inside the doorway to the passenger cabin stepped aside, a figure rose from the plush leather chair he had been sitting in. He held a half-filled glass of expensive merlot in one hand and what looked like a freshly poured glass of the same beverage in the other.

No doubt, the second glass was for me. But, it didn’t matter. I had a serious axe to grind first. As he moved toward me, wearing his patented smug grin, I motioned for him to wait a moment while I sat Alaia down next to a matching leather chair close to his. Then I went after him like a hungry lioness stalking an overconfident gazelle.

“Where the FUCK have you been!”

Chapter 16

“Where have I been?” said Racco. “For your information, my chérie amour, I’ve been traveling across all of Europe in search of a place that is truly safe for you and your child!”

He sounded angry, and the offended look he gave me almost made me think this was all my fault and none of his. The man is a master manipulator with smooth charms—even in a rage. But who would expect one of the few immortal humans in the world to be anything less than that?

“And you could not find time to write me a note or some other way to let me know you’ve cared as much about me and Alaia as you say you do now?” My own wrath matched his.

I hadn’t seen Racco in nearly six months, and as in the case with Peter, there had been no attempts on his part to contact me. The human male species—regardless of the century they’re born in—tend to be self-centered, as many a female can attest. There’s no point in trying to convince a man that this point of view is the correct one, since admitting to such a shortcoming could prove fatal to their chauvinistic outlook on life. That’s true even for the ones who keep their arrogance and sense of privileged status on the ‘down low’.

We are here for them, and the rescue that we all long for—our own damsel in distress syndrome—can only happen when the man pursuing us wants something from us. Usually that simply means sex, and any heart-felt conversations will end as soon as the libido is fulfilled.

This perspective fed my inner resolve not to fall prey to his devilish charisma or Adonis good looks. For those unfamiliar with my earlier account, Racco is a splendid male. Eternally in his late thirties, he has a smile that would even put Peter’s movie-star grin to shame. He is classically handsome with strong features and sky-blue eyes that shine like Mel Gibson’s from long ago. Jet-black hair with thin, white streaks along his temples, his full hairline and thick, wavy hair are a woman’s dream to run her hands through…I think so, anyway.

Racco has just enough facial lines to indicate maturity, and a refined French accent that bears a slight eastern European edge. And everything he wears looks fabulous—including his present laid-back look of jeans and a soft white cotton shirt with billowing long sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows. The shirt was open to just above his nipples, revealing his taut chest lightly covered with soft brown wispy hair and the gold medallion he favors.

So, why go on like this? Because he torments my soul and body like no other man has ever done! Including Peter, whom I promptly forgot about upon meeting Racco last November. And if Chanson hadn’t sabotaged my attempts to have sex with him, perhaps Alaia would have a different father than Peter. Of course, it would also mean that Racco would have fathered children with both her and I, as Kazikli revealed earlier.

“You never got my letters?” His anger melted to confusion and then hurt. In less than fifteen seconds, I went from wanting to emasculate him permanently to wrapping my arms around him for comfort. “I gave them to Nora who slipped them to Kazikli, since she said that Gustav had assigned him to watch over you.”

“No, I never received any letters.” I tried to picture the sequence of events that made sure the correspondence never reached me. “If I had, I would’ve certainly responded.”

“Responded ‘how’?” He took an almost absent sip of wine while eyeing me thoughtfully. His blue eyes seemed deeper, and I could almost feel his probing gaze invading my weary psyche. “Franz and Mercel have told me how you were without any means of modern communication until this trip. So, that is why I’m willing to forgive and move on with you, Txema.”

“But what if I’m not ready to deal with you again?” I pulled my gaze away from him long enough to check on my baby girl. Alaia was smiling at us both, perhaps amused at the rise and fall of our voices as every emotion quickly gave way to another—in so many ways a lovers’ quarrel, despite our complete lack of a relationship to speak of. “I have someone else whose welfare is far more precious than either yours or mine is.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said, and motioned for me to take the full glass of merlot. Meanwhile, the plane began to move. I hadn’t even noticed the door being locked by the steward. “That’s why it is critical for you to hear my ideas on how to make sure both she and you stay safe from Ralu’s army. Please…sit down while we talk.”

He insisted again that I take the glass, which I reluctantly did. Then he gently scooped up my daughter into his arms while directing me into the chair where her Moses basket was still sitting.

“Why is the plane moving?” I said, suspiciously, as I glanced out the window view shared by both seats. I moved the basket onto the floor and sat down.

“For security concerns, it can’t stay where we had it parked,” he said, retaking his seat. He smiled lovingly at my daughter who was gently cradled like a cherished football against his muscular forearm. “The plane will stop moving before we finish our discussion.”

I nodded thoughtfully while watching the hangar get smaller behind us.

“So, I take it that you knew about my date this afternoon.”

I looked for something other than the ‘state of us’ to talk about. But then I pictured Peter’s new love, Sara, in my mind and felt the air being sucked out of me once more.

“Yes, I did,” he said, glancing out the window before looking at me again. This time his loving smile was directed at me. “You had to resolve your relationship with Peter to come to grips with what is in the past and what is in your future, Txema.”

“Why do you even care?” I almost regretted the harshness the question was laced with. But I couldn’t help it. “And why travel a few thousand miles across the Atlantic to find out how things turned out—that’s a little creepy, don’t you think?”

“It was four thousand, three hundred, and fifty-three miles from Paris to here,” he said, evenly. I felt some vindication to know I’d hit a nerve. “But, no, it’s not creepy…. Not when I love someone and care only that they are completely safe and happy.”

His eyes turned a shade darker, and they glistened.

“So, you’ve done something like this before?” I wasn’t ready yet to let his heart off any easier. “I thought that’s what servants and hired vampires were for.”

“Txema, stop it!” he said, his tone more hurt than angry. He stopped himself before going on, casting another loving smile at Alaia, who cooed contentedly against his arm. He gently stroked her hair and then looked back at me, with a serious expression. “It’s more than an adolescent curiosity about your welfare…I honestly love you. I’m
in
love with you, and I’ve felt that way since when we first met on my boat last year.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me felt this was so inappropriate—this whole scene seemed out of whack. I had just experienced my heart being ripped out of my chest by losing the man I likely would’ve married had the war waged by Ralu against his brother Gustav never taken place. Yet, another part of me—deeper than the other—felt good. In fact, it felt fantastic that this man who would be a fine prize in any age—whether modern or any other time period in his two thousand year existence as the younger brother of the infamous Comte de St. Germain—desired
only
me and no one else. But, I needed time to sort through both the numbness, and the exquisite thrill to know which one was the stronger of the two emotions, and therefore would endure the longest….

The plane suddenly picked up speed, and I realized we had veered onto a runway.

“Goddamn it, Racco, you
lied
to me!” I fumed. “You said the plane would stop moving after we finished our discussion!”

“I didn’t lie, Txema.” He calmly secured his grip on my daughter while he pulled a shoulder harness around him and her. He motioned for me to do the same with the harness on my seat. “We just have lots to talk about. You should buckle up, my chérie!”

At first I remained defiant, leaning forward in my seat while I glared at him. But when the plane lifted into the air and bounced upon the runway again before rising high into the air, I took his advice. Hurriedly securing my seatbelt, I continued to eye him angrily.

“They will kill you once they find out you did this, you know,” I said sullenly, once the plane had cleared the airport and headed east. The neighborhoods and highways below looked like they’d all easily fit inside the slight gap inside my clenched fist. “There’s far too much at stake for the vampires of Europe to allow you to go unpunished for running off with their prized ‘youth’ vessels!”

“Do you enjoy the prospect of being a lifelong blood bank for them?” he said, smirking slightly before returning his loving gaze to Alaia.

“Well, no, of course not!” Indignant, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I hated the squeaks from the expensive leather, since every movement was amplified much louder than I would’ve liked. “I’m much more than that to them—and so is Alaia! They need us for survival, yes, but they will always love and protect us—at least they’ve never deserted me!”

Another look of pain as he glanced sharply in my direction; however, he didn’t respond right away.

“You remind me so much of Chanson, when we shared a similar discussion centuries ago,” he said, choosing his words carefully while looking out through the window closest to us. We had just entered a misty cloudbank, leaving very little to discern outside the plane. “She defended Gustav’s actions at the time, along with a handful of other vampires who are no longer with us. It was the beginning of her downfall.”
He shook his head sadly while absently stroking Alaia’s silky hair.

“Is that when you fathered two girls with her?” I was unable to restrain the knowing smirk that forced its way upon my face. “Was it your way of making her feel better about her misfortunate lot in life? After all, who’d ever want to be food for the immortals?”

He looked up at me with an even deeper pained expression on his face. “So, you’ve heard about our daughters?”

“Two babies born out of wedlock—it must’ve been a real party for my dear cousin back then!” I said, picturing Chanson as the victim of a much more experienced and devious male out for one thing. I wondered how long it took before Racco took off and left her…a few days? Or, perhaps, he lasted a week before deserting her.

“You could never understand what it was like back then!” he snarled, his voice shaking from the growing rage he fought to keep in check. Even so, Racco’s face had turned several shades darker with a deep crimson tint. He was seriously pissed! “Chanson was the first woman I ever truly loved…and the girls—
our
daughters, were the most beautiful children I’ve ever sired….”

His eyes filled with tears and he looked away. Talk about immediately feeling like an evil bitch. Yes, I wanted to get his previous relationship with my vampire cousin out in the open—to expose the fact I knew about the two of them, and how wronged I’ve felt by his seduction last winter since he chose to go after someone who shared Chanson’s bloodline. I mean, isn’t that sort of like sleeping with cousins or even sisters? It made me feel cheap and no more respectable than if I’d been one of his barmaid whores from a bygone century.

“I’m sorry…but I do want to know what this was all about back then, and what it means for your present relationship with Chanson,” I said, hoping my gentler tone would be perceived as the olive branch I sincerely intended. “What were your daughters’ names?”

“Jacqueline and Marissa,” he said, taking a deep breath before going on. Meanwhile, Alaia yawned, perhaps signaling she somehow instinctively knew that the more hostile moments between Racco and me had passed. “From what I understand, Jacqueline was the one given credit for reintroducing the bloodline to your ancestors. But, soon after our daughters were born, other female cousins of hers—nieces of Chanson’s—developed the birthmark and soon became carriers of it, as well.”