“Not while Saber and I stand behind you. Besides, I thought you wanted to take charge of your afterlife.”
Jo-Jo straightened. “I do.”
“Then stop worrying about Vlad,” I said.
“Yeah,” Saber drawled, “and start worrying about how you’re going to teach Cesca to fly.”
FIVE
006
I stiffened. “Saber, Jo-Jo does
not
need to worry about teaching me to fly.”
“I don’t know. From what Maggie said, Abe’s Traffic School worried about teaching you to drive.”
Jo-Jo looked appalled. “Don’t tell me Her Highness is a bad driver.”
“I’m a great driver,” I snapped. “I don’t tailgate or lane weave or cut people off.”
“But you do have a lead foot, and you can’t parallel park to save your life.”
“Afterlife,” I snipped, “and parallel parking is overrated.”
“All I know is that the driving test examiner was afraid you’d bite him if he didn’t pass you.”
“I would never!” I sputtered, hoping I didn’t blush. I hadn’t exactly soothed that nervous examiner’s fears. Darn it all, I’d hoped Saber would forget about the flying lessons. He’d pushed me to claim my vampireness since we met, and overhearing the French Bride killer rant about a passel of powers day-walkers were supposed to possess only made Saber shove harder. He said he wanted me to be all I could be. Heck, if that’s what
I
wanted, I’d join the Marines. They were looking for a few good vamps.
Flying? I wasn’t going up without a fight.
“Jo-Jo has enough to do, Saber,” I argued. “He needs to focus on working up an act. Besides, you told me not all vampires daywalk. Maybe flying isn’t one of my talents.”
“Day-walking isn’t a universal vamp trait, but flying is. You need to learn this skill.”
Jo-Jo picked up the banner. “Your consort is right, Highness. Knowing how to fly will strengthen your power base.”
“I don’t have a power base, Jo-Jo, and stop calling me Highness.”
“Yes, Your Graciousness.”
I gritted my teeth. “Gentlemen, now is not the time for flying lessons.”
“Why not? Jo-Jo can work with you right here.”
“In the backyard? Hugh Lister would have a stroke.”
“Maggie taught you to drive in empty parking lots. That’s an option.”
“Sure. Like playing Peter Pan in a parking lot won’t attract undue attention.”
“You are not wiggling out of this, Cesca.”
“Um, we can start with simple levitation,” Jo-Jo offered.
Saber and I snapped our heads in his direction.
“Simple?” I gulped. “Levitation is simple?”
“Of course. Any year-old vamp has mastered—uh, I mean, it’s basic enough.”
“See, Cesca?” Saber said. “Driving a car is probably more complicated.”
Translation? If I couldn’t fly, I was the lamest vampire on the planet. Which didn’t bother me, really. I’d rather cling to being as normal, as human, as possible. But, with Saber all but daring me, this was a challenge I had to meet. A fear I had to conquer. A vampire party trick I had to master or never hear the end of it.
I heaved a defeated sigh. “Up, up, and away.”
Jo-Jo popped out of his seat with more energy than he’d shown since he leaped atop the arbor. Saber flashed a diabolical grin, pulled me up, and paced after Jo-Jo to the shadows beside my cottage.
“Okay, Princess,” Jo-Jo said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s start with an overview. Now watch what I do.”
I crossed my arms as he took three steps and just, well, lifted into the air until he hovered about two feet off the ground. It was as impressive as the one time I’d seen Ike fly, though Ike and his vamps had taken more steps to get off the ground. Guess Jo-Jo was older and had more air miles.
When he sank down to the grass, he turned to me.
“Now you try.”
“No.”
Saber hip-bumped me. “Go on, Cesca.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Saber, I walk all the time without that happening. I saw the mechanics, but that doesn’t tell me how to actually go up.”
“Princess, what don’t you understand?”
“How do you get your lift, Jo-Jo? Are you thinking ‘come fly with me’? ‘Walk this way’? Are you thinking happy little thoughts?”
“Uh, I believe I just expect to fly, and I do, but let me go over the steps again.”
Jo-Jo walked back to us, brows furrowed in concentration. He turned, took a breath, and started off. When he reached the fourth step, the one that should’ve hit only air, he stumbled. Muttering something colorful, he started off again, and then stumbled again.
Houston, we have a problem. Failure to launch.
Jo-Jo faced us with chagrin. “Maybe we should try a different approach.”
“Maybe we should do this later.”
“Now, Cesca, you don’t want Jo-Jo to feel like he failed as your teacher, do you?”
I glanced at Jo-Jo’s embarrassed expression. “No.”
“Plus,” Saber said, leaning close and whispering, “it would be hot to levitate during sex.”
My knees went a little weak, and I had to clear my throat, but I was suddenly motivated. Highly motivated.
“Bring it on, Jo-Jo.”
My flight instructor nodded. “Okay, Highness, have you ever flown by accident, without meaning to? Or come close to flying?”
I shook my head, but Saber contradicted me.
“Yes, you have. You flew into my line of fire when that killer captured you in March.”
“That was jumping, Saber, not flying.”
“You hovered.”
“I did?”
“You did.” He pitched his voice low and sexy again. “Now jump for Jo-Jo so we can all call it a night.”
For the record, white vampires might jump like NBA stars, but this white vamp can’t fly. We worked for twenty minutes, and I did have some success. I never figured out exactly how, but I finally managed a leaping hover about six inches off the ground that lasted for all of three seconds. Still, it was a toss-up whether Jo-Jo would be funny before I could fly.
Good thing we took a break when we did. Though Jo-Jo tried not to let me see his frustration, he’d slapped his forehead during the lesson so often that the wound Marco had inflicted with the silver knife was now red, raw, and seeping. Saber sat Jo-Jo on a barstool on my patio and peered at the cut by the porch light.
“What have you been putting on this, Jo-Jo?”
“Antibiotic ointment.” He winced when Saber carefully probed the wound.
“Cesca, where is that special salve I had made up for you?”
“That smelly stuff I haven’t had to use yet? It’s in the first aid kit.”
“Would you mind sharing some with Jo-Jo?”
I smiled and trotted into the house. Anything to get out of flight school for the night. When I’d been shot during the French Bride case—on two occasions, no less—Saber had insisted that I keep some anti-silver salve on hand. I’d argued that none of the bullets had been silver, but he gave me two one-ounce jars anyway. One I kept in the car, the other in the house. I didn’t know where he came by the salve or what was in it, but I hoped Jo-Jo had a weaker gag reflex than I did.
I grabbed some gauze pads and white medical adhesive tape for good measure and dropped everything in one of the plastic bags from Publix I saved to line trash cans.
When I handed the bag to Jo-Jo, he frowned and peeked inside. “Highness, why does a vampire have a first aid kit?”
“Because she has human friends.”
“Ah, that would explain it.” He stood and gave me a little bow. “Thank you for the medicine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“What for?”
“More help with his act,” Saber answered, almost too quickly.
I let it pass because Jo-Jo left, and Saber murmured his pet name for me against my ear.
“Princesca, ready to come fly with me?”
We didn’t levitate in bed that night, but we did soar to the moon and stars a few precious times. In the afterglow, with our legs still tangled and our breathing returning to normal, I snuggled my head into the curve of his shoulder.
“It just gets better and better with you,” Saber murmured, his hand lazily caressing my hip. I kissed his chest. “Glad to hear I’m holding your attention.”
“You hold more than my attention.” He paused and turned to face me in the light of the candles scattered throughout my bedroom.
“What would you think of me moving to St. Augustine?”
I pulled back enough to see him without my eyes crossing.
“You could be based here instead of in Daytona Beach?”
“I can now. Since the Vampire Protection Agency is federal, they’re reorganizing. All former slayers who want to stay on the job as special investigators will be federal employees instead of working solely for each state.”
I took that in for a minute. “Is there a chance you’d be transferred out of Florida?”
“Some, but it’s not likely. The powers that be know we’re familiar with the vamps in our areas. Moving us around could create more problems than leaving us alone.”
“Wow, a federal reorganization designed to be more efficient instead of less? I thought that was unconstitutional.”
“Ha-ha, funny girl. If I buy my own place in St. Augustine, would you feel like I’m crowding you?”
“You couldn’t crowd me, Saber. St. Augustine isn’t
that
small a town.”
“It might be with Triton and me both here.”
I frowned and propped up on my elbow. “You’re not jealous of Triton, right? You know there’s nothing between us other than an old friendship. Emphasis on the old.”
“I’m not jealous. Not exactly. But I don’t understand why he came back, left you that dolphin charm you said he used to wear, then vanished only to send you another charm and a warning.”
“He’s turned into a drama king?”
“Cesca.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on with Triton. Why he came back or why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff. I do trust that he’s not playing an elaborate game, but, whether he’s here in town or not, you’re the only man I want to be with.”
“Even if we don’t know where we’re going in our relationship?”
“Even then.” I scooted into his arms and kissed his chin. “And I think your moving here is the best idea ever, Saber.”
He gave me a scowl and growled, “What happened to calling me Deke in the bedroom, woman?”
“Well,” I drawled, stroking a hand slowly down his chest, “moving is business, not pillow talk.”
“Princesca, we’re in bed, we’re naked, and the South is rising again. If that’s not pillow talk, what is?”
I moved over him and whispered against his lips. “This is, Deke, darling.”
The moon and stars were even more spectacular on our next trip, and I didn’t feel the least bit slighted when Saber—Deke—sank into sleep when the eagle landed. I was too blissful, spooned in the curve of his body, dozing and drifting in dreams of us sharing beds in both of our homes.
My sexually sated daze didn’t last long. I needed to get to my homework and run a few loads of laundry. Since the washer and dryer are super quiet, and since the laundry room is off the kitchen next to the half bath, the noise wouldn’t bother Saber. I pulled on my flamingo sleep shirt and blew out the candles as I moved through the room, folding Saber’s discarded clothes and gathering my own. The necklace and charm jingled in the pocket of my shorts, and Saber made a noise in his sleep as he turned over.
I gazed at his face in the moonlight, the angles softened in sleep. Suddenly, my chest tightened with a crashing wave of tenderness, stealing my breath.
I loved this man.
When the best I’d hoped for were some dates and, okay, semicasual sex just so I wouldn’t spend my afterlife as a virgin, I’d found love.
Sure, Saber pushed and prodded me to do things I didn’t want to do, like fly. He’d challenged my idea of a safe, secure, normal afterlife since we’d met, but he’d helped heal me in places I hadn’t acknowledged I hurt. No, we didn’t know where our relationship was going long-term, but it didn’t matter. He loved me, and I loved him. Nothing, not even Triton, would get in the way of me being with Saber for however long we might have. I slipped out of the bedroom with new determination. Not about the laundry, though I started the first load right away. Nope. This was about getting through to Triton. He might block me from his thoughts, but there was a chance he might hear mine. If nothing else, a good ole telepathic rant would make me feel better.
With the washer whooshing softly in the background, I settled on the sofa, the rich leather a warm caress on my partly bare legs. I laid the mermaid charm within reach, then went through the centering routine I’d learned from reading books on how to tap psychic energy. The reading was at Saber’s insistence, but, hey, I was woman enough to admit the focusing techniques worked. I was soon ready, and scooped the chain and charm into my left palm. The white noise buzz began as soon as I closed my hand around it, but the longer I held the charm, the more the radio-type static morphed into the sound of the ocean. I imagined diving beneath the waves, then pictured Triton until I saw him clearly. A few more deep breaths, and I knocked on his mind door. It opened a sliver, and I stuck my ethereal foot in. My little voice cautioned me against using Triton’s name, but, otherwise, I let ’er rip.
Of all the nerve! You show up after eons of silence—and just when I finally met a great guy, I might add—then vanish and
appear again? I don’t think so, bub. I don’t know what’s going on, but getting that obscure message was annoying as hell.
I sensed Triton raising a brow.
Yes, I said hell. I’m that ticked. And, okay, it was good to hear from you, but this popping in and out is not acceptable. I
want to know where you are, why you’re back, and what this big evil is that has you in hiding.
Very, very softly, I heard,
Not safe.
Well, when will it be? Because I have a nice afterlife filled with friends and activities, and I don’t want anyone screwing it
up.
Nothing.
You hear me? I will not be yanked around, not by you and not by anyone else.
Again, nothing, but Triton’s mind door ever so slowly closed on my ethereal foot.
Ouch.
I came back to myself, blinked at the room, and opened my fingers to find I’d squeezed the charm hard enough to make an impression in my hand. Damn.