Casa Dracula 3 - The Bride Of Casa Dracula (14 page)

She held out her long, thin arms like a raptor about to plunge and attack. Her scarlet lips opened into a smile and she said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello, Young Lady?”

My brain shortwired. After a second I said, “What are you doing here?”

“The Council sent me here to help you plan your wedding. It’s my new job!”

Like a zombie, I walked into Cornelia Ducharme’s perfumed embrace. On the outside I was smiling, but on the inside I was screaming.

my bff (bestest frenemy forever)

C ornelia seemed to have forgotten all the nastiness of her last departure from the ranch, but I had not. I was also acutely aware that her brother might have told her of our recent, uhm, socializing.

When my mind began to function again, I extricated myself from her hug.

“Be a dear and get my bags, would you?” She opened the trunk of the car and took out a small makeup case. “I’m dying of thirst. Where’s that gorgeous fiancé of yours?” she said, her voice fading as she walked to the house.

She had three large cases in what looked to be white alligator. I pulled them out of the trunk, wondering exactly how long she planned to stay. The heavy suitcases banged against my legs as I carried them into the house.

I took the bags upstairs, wondering if it was too late to switch Cornelia to a room farther away from Oswald’s.

She suddenly appeared behind me and said, “So wonderful to be back here again. I’ll fix us some drinks, shall I?”

When I heard her footsteps going down the stairs, I slipped into our bedroom, closed the door, and called Oswald. His receptionist answered, and I told her that I had to talk to Oswald right away. “It’s urgent.”

It took him a minute to get to the phone. “Milagro, I was in with a patient. Is this really important?”

“My brain is frying with disbelief. Cornelia’s here and she says that she’s our wedding consultant. Did you know anything about this?”

“Cornelia Ducharme? You’re kidding!”

“Yes, Cornelia Ducharme. Why would they send one of your old girlfriends here?”

“She wasn’t my…” He let out an exasperated breath. “I can’t deal with this now. Can you try to be civil to her until I get home?”

“You owe me, Oswald K. Grant.”

“I know I do.”

When I went downstairs, Cornelia was opening and closing the kitchen cabinets. I said, “Those suitcases aren’t really white alligator, are they?”

“White alligator is endangered,” she said, which did not answer my question. She closed a cabinet door. “I’m useless in these places. Wherever is Edna?”

“She’s away with her young actor friend.”

“Ah, she is my role model. I don’t suppose there are any delectable young actors here?”

“No, but there are some extremely appealing cowboy types.” I stopped before describing the beauty of worn Wranglers on a taut butt since I didn’t want to encourage Cornelia to go hunting for a snack.

“I think it’s just amazing that you and Edna know how to cook things.”

“Who wants to eat a fresh kill raw?” I added a “ha ha” at the end to show I was sort of joking. I arranged mineral water, ice, limes, and the demibottle of blood on a tray. “Is rabbit all right?”

“If that’s all you have.” She ran her long, manicured finger down my cheek and I stared into her heavily mascaraed eyes.

“It’s all I have for you.”

She had a merry laugh. “You’re still a fierce little thing, aren’t you? What I wouldn’t give for a taste!” She strolled away. I picked up the tray and followed her to the living room.

When we were seated there, she sipped her drink and said, “I realize that we may not have parted on the best of terms.”

“You called me a common Mexican girl.”

“Did I? Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, there isn’t,” I agreed. “And now you’re here.”

She patted my knee. “We’ll have a wonderful time. I asked for the job when I heard that the first wedding scheduled was for you and Oswald. Consider this my gift to you.”

First the loft and now this. What ever happened to people giving a nice pair of salad tongs as a wedding gift? “In a perfect world, I would let bygones be bygones. Sadly, I live in a reality-based world. What I want to know is, are you here to ruin my wedding? Have you decided to try to sink your claws into Oswald?”

“Young Lady, how can you say such things! I want nothing more than to see you happily married to the man you love. That’s why I’m here.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“I swear on my parents’ watery graves.”

“Cornelia, if you make any attempt to get at Oswald, I will make your life a living hell,” I said. That business concluded, I said, “So, how’ve you been?”

“Wonderful. I just spent a few days with Ian and Ilena,” she said. “Isn’t she incredible? They make the perfect couple.”

Ilena would have told her about meeting me, I suppose. “She’s very striking,” I said. I hated asking Cornelia for a favor, but I blamed myself for this situation-well, myself, Toodles’s illness, overbooked hotels, and Oswald’s own jealousy. “I’d appreciate your not discussing your brother in front of Oswald. He has this attitude…”

“That Ian still fancies you?” She laughed. “Oswald wouldn’t worry if he’d seen Ilena. After all, she’s a plastic surgeon’s ideal, isn’t she? Long legs, perfect features, platinum hair, so stunning and thin.”

I’d been reassured and insulted so prettily that I couldn’t complain. “Why don’t you tell me about the ceremony? As you might have heard, I’ve had some bad experiences with the old rituals.”

“Yes, it was all the talk at one of the Nixons’ croquet parties.” She poured more blood into her drink, tasted it, and made a face. Cornelia looked down on animal blood, but it was the staple that most vamps used, and ours was especially good. “I’m here now because it’s best to start on the folk costumes now so there’s no rush. The ceremony itself is the old mumbo jumbo. You’re such a smart girl, you’ll have no problem memorizing it quickly. It’s a lovely ritual, quite innocent and romantic.”

Cornelia could be an amusing companion, if you had a liking for amoral, promiscuous, and adventurous Eurotrashy types, which I apparently did. “I’m fairly sure we have different definitions of innocent,” I said, but couldn’t help smiling.

“Possibly. I called Pepper on the way up and told him we’d meet in a little while. He said he would be enchanted to see us again.”

I doubted that Ernest “Pepper” Culpepper, biker and former purveyor of home-crafted pharmaceuticals, had ever used the word “enchanted” in his life. I’d met Pepper on Cornelia’s last visit, and we’d kept in touch. “I’m rather surprised that you remember him.”

“I always remember delightful people.”

While I really liked Pepper, Oswald discouraged me from visiting the biker’s favorite watering hole alone. But I wouldn’t be alone if I went with Cornelia. “Sure, we could go hang with him.”

A visit with Pepper required a different ensemble. I changed into jeans, a vintage CBGB T-shirt, and red heels. I clasped wide silver bracelets on my wrists, made my hair big with a generous amount of product, and drew on dark eyeliner. Glancing in the mirror, I thought I looked great. I looked like myself.

Because Cornelia wasn’t Ian’s biological sister, she didn’t have his (and my) resistance to booze. “I’ll drive,” I said. “Alcohol doesn’t really affect me.”

“You got that from Ian?” she said. When I nodded she added, “How sad. It’s one of life’s pleasures.” She handed me the keys.

I drove north, to the small town of Lower Sky. Pepper was leaning against the wall of his favorite hangout, swigging from a longneck bottle of beer. He wore his usual costume: black jeans, a Harley T-shirt, and a black leather vest. He was wearing his beard in three braids with beads at the end. He gave us an infectious gap-toothed grin when we walked up the sidewalk, and then he swept us up in his beefy arms.

We exchanged greetings and grabs. He went for a clutch of my bottom, and I felt up his biceps. “Nice guns. You working out, Pepper?”

“Yeah, there’s a new gym in town. Me and the boys all got memberships.”

“You must be a vision in Lycra workout clothes,” I said.

He snorted a laugh and led us inside the honky-tonk. Pretty soon everyone was buying rounds for everyone else. The waitress said, “Long time no see, sugar. Where’s your man?”

She meant Ian, but I said, “They’re all around, hon,” which made Pepper laugh.

A few of the guys got handsy, but Pepper would thwack them on the shoulder and they’d lay off. It saved me the trouble of walloping one and then explaining my ungirlish strength.

“Whatchu been doing, Milagro?” Pepper asked. “You too good for us these days?”

This was a complex question about socioeconomics and ethics that I could not answer succinctly, so I didn’t. “You know I always enjoy your company.”

“Pepper, your beard is absolutely wonderful,” Cornelia said. “Will you take me for a spin on your hog?”

“You betcha. Let’s down a couple drinks first.”

Time flies by when you’re hanging out with bikers shooting pool, drinking Wild Turkey, and playing Southern rock on the jukebox. I had joined in a chorus of “Sweet Home Alabama” when I heard my phone ringing.

It was Oswald. “Where are you?”

“Hi, Oz. We’re with Pepper.”

Cornelia took the phone from me. “Darling, I can’t wait to see you. Milagro and I will leave right away!”

We really would have, but navigating our exit was somehow delayed. As Pepper was finally walking out with us, he said to Cornelia, “When am I gonna see you again? And your bro?”

“You’ll see us at Milagro’s wedding. You’ve got to promise to save me a dance.”

Pepper tilted his head, setting the braids of his beard swinging. “You getting hitched?” he asked me.

“I’m making an honest man out of Oswald.”

“Glad you’re not trying to do that with me!” Pepper said. “So it’s Oswald you settled on? Send the invitation here.”

“I’ll do that,” I said.

When we finally got in the car and I was driving home, Cornelia leaned back in her seat and said, “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d become a dull little Country Mouse.”

I felt the stab. “Who told you that?”

“Why else would you register for gifts at that dusty old department store? Not that there’s anything wrong with that-the Grant family has always been very upstanding and respectable. They’d appreciate your new maturity.”

“The gift registration was for Oswald’s relatives, and there’s nothing wrong with growing up.”

“There’s a difference between growing up and giving up, Young Lady.” Instead of elaborating, she began talking about the wedding ceremony. “The Council will appoint someone to perform the service. There’s a sweet young fellow who applied to officiate ceremonies, but he’s having problems with the language.”

“I always thought it sounded like a robot chewing metal,” I said, trying not to think of the way the words had sounded when Ian spoke them to me. “Can’t we have it in English?”

“You can ask Sam to submit a request for you, but you may want to appear more accommodating.”

“Reciprocity would be nice. The Council treats me like I’ve got cooties.”

When I explained the curse of cooties to Cornelia, she started laughing. I knew she was a terrible person, so why did I have fun with her? I remembered Ms. Smith’s description of her as a child, and I felt a wave of empathy for the scared little girl she’d once been.

Oswald was sitting on the terrace as we drove up. He looked annoyed. Cornelia got out of the car and dashed into his arms, crying, “Oswald, you sexy creature!” and he broke into a smile.

They did the kiss-kiss thing, and then she held him at arm’s length. “Darling, you get better looking every time I see you.”

“And you look beautiful, as always,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you, though.”

“I asked the Council not to say anything, because I wanted to surprise you.” Cornelia and Oswald shared an old-friend-well-met smile that made me all too aware that they’d known each other long before I’d met them. Cornelia was always flirtatious. I didn’t mind it around Pepper, and now I tried to control my suspicions as I edged up next to Oswald.

I slipped my arm around his waist and said, “I’m sorry we’re late, Oz. We were hanging with Pepper and…”

Oswald didn’t stop smiling, but his expression shifted fractionally in disapproval.

Who was he to judge Pepper, just because of Pepper’s more freewheeling, frequently criminal lifestyle? I pulled my arm back.

“The food’s staying warm in the oven,” Oswald said. “Why don’t we eat?”

He’d picked up food from the posh deli near his clinic: chicken in a tomato-caper sauce, smoked red pepper soup, a salad, and a berry tart. Now I felt bad that he’d rushed from work to the market and hurried home while we were learning to shoot dice and screaming, “Mama needs a new push-up bra!”

I asked, “Cornelia, have you been seeing anyone?”

“No one special,” she said with a sideways glance at Oswald. “Most men seem so…so very ordinary. Even our kind have lost touch with their instincts.” She sounded almost wistful, but it lasted only a moment. “Oh, la! The country air makes me so sentimental.”

“You wouldn’t want all men as ‘instinctual’ as Pepper anyway,” I said.

“Don’t be so sure,” she said.

Oswald said, “That bar isn’t a very safe place for women by themselves.”

“How sweet of you to be so protective of us,” Cornelia said, “especially since I know that Milagro can take care of herself so terribly well.”

“That’s not a reason to go looking for trouble,” Oswald replied.

“Then we won’t,” she said. “Oswald, when I was in Gstaad, several of my friends were raving about your work. Tell me everything you’ve been doing.”

Oswald was happy to do so in great detail. Cornelia asked questions so informed they seemed to indicate personal experience with cosmetic procedures. Not that you could tell with vamps, who aged well and healed smoothly.

I saw Oz’s happy face and wished I could be more interested in his profession. Unfortunately I associated it with my mother Regina. I tried to listen now, but found my mind wandering. I was thinking about the next chapter of Don Pedro’s story when I heard a series of short, sharp barks.