Summoning Sebastian (14 page)

So I gently stroked the bottle, and Colin joined me, his fingers brushing mine from time to time.

The vibration between our hands settled into a low hum, thrumming against my palm. When my fingers touched Colin's, I could feel the buzzing pass into his hands, then back into mine. It was a strange sensation, but I liked it. In the meantime, the bottle itself kept buzzing between my thighs. I was going melty, like I was made out of butter and somebody had just slid me into the microwave.

This was a really bad idea. I knew it, and I could tell Colin knew it because he was smirking. I was almost positive my parents wouldn't approve of us basically having a threesome in their backseat. And if they didn't disapprove, the next thing we knew, Dad would probably be interviewing us for some kind of an article on vampire sexuality or something. Still, I couldn't let go, couldn't bring myself to make things stop.

Besides, it wasn't that big a deal. I was just getting warm and liquid, really relaxed. Aroused, but in a quiet way that could sneak up and then just hang there, making everything wet and warm and loose but not leading to anything particularly explosive.

So when the orgasm hit me, it caught me off guard. My pelvis went tight, then started letting go in a sequence of deep, slow pulses. Not quite like anything I've ever felt before.

“Guh,” I said. I couldn't help it.

At the same time, Colin let out a sharp bark of laughter.

Mom and Dad went dead silent. I bit my bottom lip to hold back any additional sounds that might slip out. More waves passed through me, and the bottle itself pulsed between my thighs. I fixed my gaze to my window, afraid to look at anyone.

“Gesundheit,” Colin said.

“Thank you,” I answered, my voice a little strained.

“I think we should stop at a restaurant,” Mom said finally.

Chapter Fourteen

“T
here is absolutely no scientific justification for one type of blood to taste better than another.”

“Were you a vampire, you would disagree.”

“That's not scientific.”

“No, but it's delicious.”

—“Overheard in Denver” (Facebook Feed)

W
e stopped at a restaurant. The GPS in the car took us to a 24/7 diner that catered to vampires and humans alike. It was similar to Blood and Circuses, but completely different in that it was a dive instead of a relatively high-class restaurant. It seemed a little dodgy to me, but Mom and Dad didn't seem to have a problem with it.

Colin gave the blood bar a sidelong glance as he came in, but looked away. I'd expected him to head straight for it—the last food he'd had was at the airport.

Mom caught his eye, though. “It's okay. Go ahead. We don't want you getting hungry on our account.”

I had to give my mom credit. She didn't say it with any undertones of
We don't want you to get hungry cause maybe you'll eat us
. Instead, she sounded like she was addressing a friend afflicted with gluten intolerance.

Colin sucked his teeth a moment, then gave a nod and headed for the blood bar. The rest of us headed for a table.

“So,” Mom ventured as we took a seat, “how was your flight?”

“It was fine. Mostly uneventful.” I knew I was trying too hard to read subtext into her question. I couldn't help it. Parents are great at subtext.

“We were a little concerned when we saw you were flying through the day,” she went on.

“He booked us on Vlad Air. They're pretty exclusive.”

Mom nodded. “So…” She trailed off. This was the moment, then. The disapproval of the vampire boyfriend. I braced myself. She went on. “Have you decided how much you can tell me?”

Okay, that was, admittedly, not what I'd expected. I thought we'd put that question to rest back at the airport, at least for a while. Apparently Mom's “a while” had a different definition from mine. I glanced nervously back toward the blood bar, where Colin was leaning comfortably, conversing with the bartender. I wondered what language they'd settled on. I returned my attention to my parents. What the hell was I supposed to tell them?

“I can't really talk about it,” I finally answered. “I mean… I'm not sure what I can and can't say, and I don't want to put you in a position where you might be in danger.”

“Goodness.” Mom seemed genuinely taken aback. “That sounds so melodramatic.”

I flipped open my menu, trying to figure out if she meant that in an insulting way. “Well…” I mulled a moment before I went on. “It kind of is, honestly. This whole situation is all
Da Vinci Code
or something.”

This caught dad's attention. “Really? Do you think Mr….Colin would tell me about it if I asked?”

“He's not Mr. anything, Dad, as far as I know. And I don't know what he'd tell you. All I know is I'm not going to be the one to break the vampire code or whatever. If there even is one in this case. It's…it's pretty complicated. Really.”

Dad frowned, his lower lip approaching a pout. He didn't like being put off the trail of potentially interesting stories, especially when they involved convoluted conspiracy theories. He wasn't going to give up easily, I could tell.

“Seriously, though,” I added, “go ahead and ask him. I think the worst he'd do is be super rude about it.”

Dad considered this. “Okay. Thanks for the tip.”

Colin meandered back over just about then, a wineglass in his hand filled with deep red blood. He slid into the chair next to me. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” I said and wondered if he'd been listening. I wouldn't have put it past him. Not that it mattered much. We'd have to discuss at least some of this at some point, anyway. It seemed only fair.

Not now, though. I focused on my menu and tried to figure out what it said.

I
n spite of my attempt to make good life choices, dinner proved heavy, a little too greasy, but better tasting and less tense than I'd expected. By the time we got back into the car, I was getting tired, a potent mix of exhaustion, jetlag, tension and carb loading. I was also starting to get worried about the sunrise.

Apparently oblivious to the approaching sun, Mom launched into an educational monologue about their current residence. She wasn't really oblivious, though. I could tell because her hands were tight on her knitting needles and Dad was driving even more like an insane person than he had been before. She was distracting us.

“It's a nice little house. Almost an
izba
—that's the traditional Russian-style home. There aren't many of them left. I suppose it's more of a cottage, really. Pretty small, but we'll find room for everyone. Don't worry. And I've made sure you'll be safe from the sun.” She looked back to give Colin a reassuring look just as Dad took a corner far faster than was safe. I grabbed at the car door with one hand and Colin with the other, surprised we hadn't gone up on two wheels.

It didn't take long to get to the house, thankfully. Dad pulled the car up into the carport next to it, and we all got out. It was, as advertised, small. It was also not nearly as run-down as similar houses I'd glimpsed on the way over. Dad went to the back of the car to grab our luggage.

“Mandy, go on in with Colin and get him settled,” he told my mom. “We're cutting it a little close.” I was glad someone had finally mentioned we were racing daylight. It had felt like an elephant in the car. One of several. The fewer elephants we had sitting around during our conversations, the better. Plus it was nice to hear them acknowledge Colin's special circumstances. It made me feel less like they were ignoring it.

Colin seemed relatively unconcerned about the approaching sun, but he followed my mom into the house. I was happier with him inside and went to grab a suitcase to bring it in.

Standing next to me by the open trunk of the Lada, Dad leaned close, his gaze flicking toward the house where Mom and Colin had just disappeared inside. “Your mom and I would like to talk to you before you head on to bed.”

Well. This was it, then. The big dustup, confrontation, intervention, whatever it turned out to be. One of the other elephants, in any case. I'd been running through imaginary conversations in my head all the way from DIA. I was pretty sure I was ready for about any contingency. “Okay,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Dad just nodded, and we carried the luggage into the house.

I
put our luggage away, pulling out a few things to cover the next day or two, while Colin stretched out on the bed in the room my parents had assigned to us. I was vaguely surprised they were letting us share a bedroom, but on the other hand, they only had one guest room, and the living room wasn't sunproof.

The guest room, though, was. I could tell they'd gone to some effort. The window was not only covered with blackout shades but had heavy-duty sunblock film applied directly to the glass. I recognize the brand—it wasn't the cheap stuff.

I dillydallied about a bit, putting things away. Maybe hoping Mom and Dad would change their minds about our little chat. It was a futile hope, I knew, but it sprang eternal.

By the time I'd gotten my clothes settled, Colin was sprawled out on his stomach on the bed. I gave him a kiss and slapped his ass. He grinned, grunted and fell asleep.

I sighed. Time for the parental lecture.

I couldn't imagine what they wanted to talk to me about. Well, actually, I could, but I didn't know how to narrow it down. There were only so many hours in a day, after all. They wouldn't have time to break down all my poor life choices before my bedtime came at sunrise.

The scene in the living room was homey, though. Mom and Dad were talking in low voices over something on Dad's laptop, both of them equipped with cups of tea. Mom looked up as I came in.

“Nim. Is everything okay?” She tilted her head toward the bedroom where I'd left Colin.

“Yeah,” I said. “He's asleep.”

“You're probably pretty bushed too, huh?” Dad closed the laptop.

“Yeah. It's been a long day.” I sank into the couch. The tea looked good, but I didn't really want anything that might keep me from falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Which would hopefully be in the next few minutes. “What did you guys want?”

“Well…” She and Dad exchanged glances. “We just…haven't seen you in a really long time, and you've had a lot of life changes.”

I braced myself. This was where they tried to convince me having a vampire boyfriend was a bad idea, that someday I'd want kids, and what would I do then? And of course they wanted grandchildren, and God knew Gwen was never going to settle down…

Mom leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and looked me right in the eye. “Nim. Are you happy?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then realized she hadn't said what I had expected her to. My teeth clicked as I closed my mouth again.

Was I happy? I wasn't happy about Sebastian's situation, but other than that… At this point, I'd been with Colin longer than any previous boyfriend. He was the first guy I'd lived with. I felt safe when I was with him, on a number of levels. I missed him on the rare occasions when he was gone.

Okay, fine. I loved him. For a lot of reasons. I missed Sebastian, wanted him back desperately, but the last few months, I'd felt more like myself than I had in a very long time. And, weirdly enough, it was a myself I hadn't even met before.

“Yeah,” I finally said, and I reached out and took my mother's hand. “I mean, there's stuff going on right now I'm not happy about, but it's nothing to do with Colin. He's…I think maybe he's good for me.”

Both my parents eyed me soberly, then nodded, close enough to synchronized to creep me out a little. “Okay,” Mom said. “That's really all we wanted to know.”

“Okay, then.” I squeezed Mom's hand, smiled and headed back to bed.

W
e settled in over the next couple of nights, both Colin and I adjusting to a certain amount of jetlag. I'd never figured vamps would have jetlag, since they pretty much just passed out as soon as the sun came up. But Colin seemed sluggish, and I came to the conclusion that the difference in time zones was fucking up his system as thoroughly as it was mine.

By the third day, though, I was starting to feel more like myself. I was still sleeping mostly during the day, though I hoped I'd be able to spend at least one daytime stretch with Mom and Dad. I didn't know how long we were going to be here, after all. Neither did Colin. I got the impression he was already feeling as if Roland had been too long out of contact.

The sun set pretty early, though, at this time of year in Siberia. Colin and I woke early enough to have dinner with my parents, who had adjusted to the local cuisine and treated us to home-cooked borsch and pelmini.

I dug into the bright red, beef-and-beet-based soup. It was sweet—much sweeter than any soup really deserved to be—but it was good. Cabbage and onions gave it additional texture and flavor. Mom hadn't pureed it, so it still had chunks of beet and potato. Colin had gone out. He seemed a little self-conscious about asking my parents to keep blood in their fridge for him. I didn't ask where he was going, and he didn't volunteer the information.

“This is good,” I told Mom. “I'm not nuts about beets, but I like this.”

“Thank you.” She set a big plate of pelmini on the table and I breathed deep to take in the smell of the small, meat-filled dumplings. I could get used to Russian food. Well, most of it. There were a few things I didn't think seemed all that appetizing. Like herring with mayonnaise. “How's Colin adjusting?”

“All right, as far as I can tell.”

“He doesn't have to go out every night,” Dad put in. “We have room in the refrigerator for blood if he needs it.”

“I think maybe he's not too keen on asking.”

Mom shrugged. “Easily enough to fix. You and I will go shopping tomorrow and pick some up. It'll be ready for him when he wakes up tomorrow night.”

I smiled. This was where I got my sneakiness. “That's an excellent idea.”

When Colin came home, I told him I was going shopping the next day. During the day. While he was asleep. He wasn't too taken with the idea.

“I'm not sure you should go out by yourself.”

“I won't be by myself. I'll be with Mom.”

“Still. It might not be safe.”

“Who's likely to be after me?” I waited for him to answer, but he didn't. I could tell the gist of my question had soaked in, though, because his face fell. “Vampires,” I went on, taking advantage of the moment of vulnerability. “I'm going out during the day. There won't be any vamps out and about.”

He mulled the idea. “Okay. You have a point.”

“Of course I do.”

“What about the guy from Noble & Target?”

I blinked, not sure at first what he was talking about. Then I managed to translate his inability to parse modern culture. “Target,” I said. “And Barnes & Noble. And I don't know who he was or why he was there or if he was a human or a vampire or just some dude who likes to barbecue.” The passage of time had made the incident seem much less threatening.

He frowned. I half expected him to decide to lay down the law and tell me not to go anywhere. But after a moment he said, “Just be careful. And leave Sebastian at home.”

I nodded. That idea rubbed me the wrong way, but he was right. Home would be the safest place for my boyfriend in a bottle.

M
om and I started our daytime adventures with a tour of Chelyabinsk. Or at least part of it. I wasn't exactly clear on where we were. Mom just wanted to show me her favorite spot. It involved a large pedestrian street lined with a variety of buildings, statues, shops, offices—all the usual things you'd see in a downtown area. There were a few signs in English, but most were in Russian. English seemed to be reserved for a few American brand names but appeared a few other places apparently randomly. Or maybe I was hallucinating. It was hard to tell; I was really tired.