Authors: Michele Drier
“I’m fine,” I shouted, then thought better of it and opened the door to her. She was startled, but not frightened, wrapped in a robe, her eyes still heavy with sleep.
“What started the commotion? Were you still up?” She glanced at my jeans-and-shirt outfit. “Didn’t Jean-Louis come up tonight?” Nothing if not discreet, our Elise. She was perfectly aware that I was involved with Jean-Louis and that he “visited” me most nights, but it wasn’t a subject we discussed.
Jean-Louis. Oh, shit, where was he?
Chapter Nine
I was afraid to look outside. What if Jean-Louis had run out while I’d locked myself in the bathroom like a five-year-old? How was I going to get over this fear? How could I ever stand up to the Kandeskys, let along the Huszars, if I caved at the first sign of trouble?
Standing next to the long windows, now glowing rectangles of blue-white light, I was immobilized with indecision. Me. The one who always acted. One of my mother’s mantras rang in my head:
Always make a move. Any move is active, no move is passive and passive, you lose.
What if I looked out and saw Jean-Louis’s body? What if I didn’t see his body? What if ...the door almost slammed open and I jumped. No shrieks, but then I probably couldn’t be heard. When I managed to open my eyes, Jean-Louis was standing there, grinning at me.
“What are you doing? You son-of-a-bitch! You scared me to death.” The string of invective faded off as I watched his grin broaden.
“Ha, I guess it worked.”
I was aware the noise was abating and then the lights suddenly snapped off, leaving white scars pulsing on my retinas.
“What worked? What’s going on?” I didn’t see what he had to grin about.
He came over to me. “I’m sorry, but we couldn’t tell you. Your reaction, your honest reaction was a big part of the plan.”
Here we went again. Something he couldn’t or didn’t share with me. Something that scared me out of my wits, and that fright was part of his plan. This was making me crazy and I wasn’t sure I wanted any part of it.
I went over and slammed the door shut, almost catching Vladmir’s face. By now, I was truly steamed, the fear lending fire to my anger. “That’s it, you louse! I’m tired of being thrown to the wolves, or whatever was screeching around out there! I’m leaving in the morning!”
“And where would you go? And how will you get there?” His smugness was unbearable.
“I’ll go home, to LA. You forget I have a home there. I’ll take a plane!”
“How are you planning to get to the airport? Ask a demon to drive you? Call a cab? And no, I didn’t forget you have a home in LA. If you remember, I, we, pay for it.”
That brought me up short. He was right. I was all but a prisoner here, and even my home, my safe haven, in reality belonged to the Kandeskys. I backed over to the couch and slumped, worn out with the drain of adrenaline. I looked up at him and began silently to cry.
“On, no, no, no, no...” He was beside me, trying to hold me in his arms. “Oh love, my love, please don’t cry, I never meant for you to be hurt.”
I tried to turn away from his arms, but he took my shoulders and turned me back to his face. “It was a ploy to get Alessandr and Markov safely back to Huszar territory. We know that the house is constantly under surveillance. You know that, that’s why we always have a demon with you. How would it look if two of the younger leaders were seen peacefully leaving the Baron’s castle?
“This way, we took Alessandr and Markov out a tunnel that leads into the forest. From there, there’s a trail to the Neutrality. When Huszar forces got wind of them, they were entering the Neutrality and could say that they’d been on a reconnaissance mission and just escaped being taken by the Kandesky demons and vampires. Then when the Huszar forces attacked, and you screamed, it all added verity to their story. They went home as heroes and Matthais can’t touch them.
“This is what I meant when I said Karoly was beginning to learn dis- and misinformation. Making something look different from what it is.”
He put his hand under my chin and looked at my watery eyes. “I’ve never seen you cry.”
My tears had slowed, but I was left with a very unromantic stuffy nose that was beginning to run. This was a big reason why I didn’t cry. It took an armload of anger and frustration to force tears from me.
“Here.” Jean-Louis handed me a box of tissues. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “I thought that gentlemen always had a handkerchief tucked away to help a crying lady.” The words were light but my tone wasn’t.
“You’ve been reading too many romance novels. We may be centuries old but we’re aware of basic cleanliness. After all, we have to know about pathogens in bodily fluids.”
I managed a weak smile. “You can’t just get around me that easily this time. I’m seriously upset that you didn’t tell me what was going on. And then,” I was building up another head of steam, “when I said I’d leave, you reminded me that you owned me! It’s all about business, isn’t it!”
This was my big pit of fear, the nagging feeling that Jean-Louis was only interested in me for my commercial value. Not only was I outstanding at my job, I was a magnet for the Huszars, which made me doubly valuable. They could use my expertise to grow their media empire and they could bring their age-old enemies into the fold using me as bait.
“I don’t know how to solace you. I’m walking a tightrope between you, the Huszars and the Baron.” His beautiful, dark eyes dimmed and his skin began to pale. He suddenly looked old, maybe not his age but enough so that he lost his vitality, and I could make out the bones in his face.
“I am falling in love with you. The Baron—and Pen as well as Carola—are warning me about loving a regular. So the more I try and keep you safe, the more they see me pulling away from the family. Then bring the Huszars into it, and the lines blur between personal and professional. And you get hurt and upset. I’m damned with every step I take.”
I took up one of his long, lovely hands. “I can manage a lot if I know that you love me. I think I doubt you because I’ve never had a love like this, a man like you, a vampire. Until I met you and the Kandeskys, I didn’t even believe that vampires existed!”
He turned to me, his glimmer coming back on low. “Please don’t doubt what I feel for you. I have no other motive than to love you for as long as we can. Because of my other responsibilities, it may seem as though you’re only worth what business you bring in, but that’s not the case.”
This time when he leaned over to kiss me, it was soft, caring, caressing. I leaned into it and then we both felt the jolt of desire as he slid his tongue into my mouth. His hand stopped caressing my face, dropped down to undo two buttons of the shirt and found my nipple.
With his touch, it began to burn with sharp pleasure. He lifted me and carried me to my bed where we made long, passionate love until the edge of daylight forced him to leave.
Chapter Ten
Francois waved happily as I came down the steps from the Baron’s jet. He’d been turned when he was just 21 and retained the ebullience of his age, even though his professionalism made him a star in SNAP management. He headed up both the Paris office and the French language edition of SNAP, so had responsibility for covering a lot in the film, jet-set, Euro-trash wealthy population. Plus, he had the planet’s fashion leaders in his orbit, so he was a go-to guy for much of our content.
Tonight, he had a laid on a mini pub-crawl of some spots after a quick tour of the office and introduction to some staffers. He, I, and my bags were in the SNAP Mercedes limo before I realized that Sandor had added others to our party. I could only see the back of his head in the passenger seat, but both this guy and the driver wore signature black suits.
I glanced over to Francois, raised my eyebrows and waved my hand at the two heads. He gave me a Gallic shrug and mouthed two names that I thought were Denis and Michele. Hmmm, two demons in Paris to keep me safe?
The limo pulled through tall double doors and parked in a courtyard of a 19
th
century building in the 7
th
Arrondisment. We were herded to an open-cage elevator that only held me, Francois and one of the demons. At the top floor, the elevator grille pulled open and we were in a foyer of a penthouse apartment.
My mouth must have dropped because Francois giggled. “Even now, Maxie, you’re surprised at the Baron’s arrangements?”
I tore my eyes away from the lighted Eiffel Tower, almost close enough to touch, and nodded. “Is this yours?”
“Non, my apartment is a few blocks away. It’s behind the Ecole Miltaire and I’m high enough up that it feels like I’m living in the trees, but nothing as spectacular as this. Visitors are surprised the first time.”
“Surprised” didn’t cover the reaction. It never occurred to me that a view like this existed. To the right of the Tower, the Seine showed black under its bridges and the lights of the whole of the Right Bank, from the Museum of Man to the Louvre, reflected in the dark water, punctuated by the Ile de la Cite and Norte Dame.
I had to mentally slap myself that I was here on business, although how people did business in this amazing city, I didn’t know.
A creak and slamming metal brought me back. The second demon and my bags had arrived. A woman, probably the housekeeper, emerged from another room, spoke rapid French and directed that my bags be taken to a bedroom in the back.
Once done, she came over and Francois introduced her as Marnee, the housekeeper-cum-cook who worked for Paris SNAP. “She’s not always here, she also oversees our catering and arrangements for other visitors who stay in various hotels. The Baron brings her here when someone special is visiting.”
“Well, am I someone special?”
Francois looked as though he’d stuck his finger in a socket. “Are you special?” His voice came from the bottom of the pond, so he cleared his throat and started again. “Of course, you’re special,” he managed to get out. “This is where Pen always stays when she’s in Paris. And the Baron and Jean-Louis stay here as well.”
Hoo, boy, I was in pretty exalted company, then. I nodded as though it was my everyday due and didn’t speak. I didn’t think I could.
“Do you want to freshen up before we go out? Marnee will show you your rooms.”
True to his word, Marnee led me down the hall to a suite with a sitting room, bedroom and bath. The demon had already brought my bags and Marnee had unpacked a few things, so I grabbed my make-up case, went into the bathroom, closed the door and sat on the ledge of the oversize tub, taking slow, deep breaths. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get rid of the country-cousin feeling that being around these vampires occasioned.
Once calm and repaired, Francois and I headed out, along with the demons, who were, I found out, indeed Denis and Michele. They nodded when I made Francois introduce me, but didn’t shake my hand, None of the more companionable ease that Sandor and I had fallen into, these guys were all business.
We reversed the arrival, Francois and Denis (or maybe Michele) going down in the elevator first then Michele (or Denis) and I followed. One of them started the car remotely, we got in and headed out. Francois let loose with a spate of French and the limo’s moon roof slid open as we headed down the Champs Elysees. I’d been to Paris a few times on business trips, but they were always quick and even though SNAP’s travel office made the arrangements, I wasn’t actually a guest of the Baron. This was different.
We went to three or four clubs, had a late dinner at some small restaurant that knew Francois and always had a supply of steak tartar and Bull’s Blood, spent about an hour in the office planning out the next few days and I was escorted back up the elevator by both demons while Francois called for a regular SNAP town car to take him home.
Marnee brought coffee and rolls at noon. Apparently, she was more than a housekeeper, because she also handed me my schedule. At 3, the limo would pick me up and take me to two houses on Blvd. Haussmann. Francois would join me at Haus Etoile, a new and hot designer who was being bought by some of the up-coming stars, we’d have cocktails and come back to the Baron’s apartment where I was hosting a dinner party for 30.
Wait a minute, I was hosting?
I needed to call Jean-Louis. Or Francois. Or even Pen. Damn, those vampires, they were all asleep. I looked at Marnee who calmly smiled until she finally understood that I was grimacing from terror. She started on an explanation. When I stammered out “Plus lentment, s’il vous-plait,” she realized that my French was thoroughly inadequate and said, in English, “It’s all arranged. The guests will be here by 10 this evening. You and Francois will be back by 9, giving you plenty of time to change. Francois has the guest list and will go over it with you on the way back.”
My mouth was opening and closing without a sound. These vampires were past masters at having guests, dinner-parties for 30 or 40, cocktail parties for 100, weekend house parties. I’m from California. Some of my parties consisted of barbequing hamburgers on the deck of my condo.
Marnee patted my hand. “Everything will be fine. Do you want to bathe or shower?” She went into the closet to pick out some clothes.
I opted for the shower, hoping the driving water would pound some courage into me. This would be OK. My God, I was upper management in the world’s largest media company. How many parties, openings, galas, had I been to, or covered? How many times had the Baron and Pen hosted guests at the castle while I’d been living there?
There was a difference. At many of those events, I’d either been working, which allowed me to wrap up in my SNAP Boss persona, or I was with Jean-Louis, who moved through these gatherings like a fish through water. This was my first time solo. I had to suck it up.
Just like the Swiss railways, the schedule ticked off until Francois and I were in the limo headed for the Baron’s and I felt as though I could unburden myself. Luckily, two glasses of wine during cocktails had numbed my panic.