"That's true," he admitted, glad to avoid the blood for the time being. "There
is
something that I'll need to discuss with you if you agree to marry me, but it isn't that I'm terminally ill. I'm not ill at all."
"You want to marry me?" Terri asked with pleasure.
Bastien rolled his eyes. "Terri, honey. I just flew two thousand three hundred miles chasing after you. It wasn't to ask you on a date."
"Oh, Bastien!" She launched herself off the couch. Bastien caught her with an, "oomph," then found his face peppered with little butterfly kisses.
"Terri, honey, hang on. We do have to talk."
"Later," she murmured. "I've been so miserable since hearing Lissianna and Kate in the bathroom, I—" She paused and peered at him with question. "What were they talking about—that I should understand, because of Ian? I thought they were saying that you were ill, and I should be able to understand and deal with it because of my experiences with Ian."
"We have to talk," Bastien repeated with a sigh.
"Just tell me," she said.
"It's not something you just blurt out, Terri."
"Now you're making me nervous again."
"I'm sorry, but it's…" Taking her hands, he drew her back to the sofa and settled beside her. "It's not bad," he started, hoping she would agree.
"It isn't?"
"No." He glanced around the living room of her cottage, absently noting the comfortable charm as he tried to think of the best way to tell her. "Well," he said finally, "have you ever seen the movie
An American Werewolf in London?"
She gave a perplexed laugh. "Yes. Hasn't everyone?"
He nodded. "Well, I'm not American, or a werewolf, and we aren't in London."
She blinked several times at his comment. Then she said slowly, "No, this is Huddersfield."
"And I'm Canadian and a vampire," he finished brightly.
"Uh… huh," she said slowly. "Bastien, are you feeling well?"
"Terri—"
"Is this your idea of a joke?"
She was getting annoyed, he thought with alarm. How the heck had Etienne and Lucern told Rachel and Kate that they were vampires? "Terri, honey," he began. "It's not a joke. I really am a vampire."
"Oh. I see." She was getting snippy. That was interesting. He'd never seen her snippy before. Well, perhaps with the cashier at Victoria's Secret. No, Bastien decided, Terri had put the clerk in her place, but she had not got snippy with the girl.
"You're a vampire." Her voice was disbelieving, and she was nodding her head up and down in a way that didn't look promising. "Fine. Bite me."
Terri held her arm out in challenge, and Bastien frowned. "Terri, I don't want to bite you," he said. Then he paused and said more honestly, "Well, actually, I am a pit peckish right at the moment, but I'd rather not—"
"Uh-huh. Bite me!" she snapped. "If you're a vampire, bite me."
Bastien peered at her arm for a minute, then took it in hand, lifted it up, and bit her.
"Ouch!" Terri leapt off the couch, retrieving her arm as she went. Bastien had to snap his teeth back double quick to keep from ripping her vein and flesh. "You bit me! You've got fangs!"
"Now do you believe me?"
Clutching her arm to her chest, she began to back away.
"Please don't be afraid of me, Terri. I love you," he said softly, taking a step after her and holding out his hand in pleading. He was relieved when she hesitated. "Honey, this is a good thing. Really. You'll never have to worry about my dying a horrible, lingering death," he offered. "I won't die like your mother and Ian. I can't."
She stared at him. "Your father is dead. Was he staked?"
"No. He burned to death. We can burn to death." Then he added quickly, "But that wouldn't be a long lingering illness. None of the ways we can die are long and lingering."
"So, the blood in your fridge…"
"Was to feed. We don't bite humans anymore, not unless absolutely necessary."
"You aren't human."
"Yes, of course we are. Sort of. We're just a different nationality, really. We're almost immortal, as opposed to mortal. Atlantean rather than British. Well, we're Canadian now. At least my family is." He paused and frowned; he was really making a flub of this. "Look, honey, sit down and I'll explain everything. Our vampirism is scientific in basis, not a curse or something. We aren't soulless. That night-walking demon thing everyone thinks vampires are—well, it was all just a big misunderstanding."
Terri didn't sit down; instead she narrowed her eyes. "So vampires can walk in daylight?"
"Yes." He frowned. "Well, the sun does a lot of damage, of course. And going out in it means we have to consume a lot more blood to make up for it, but we can go out in it without bursting into flames or anything."
She seemed to accept that, but then, she had seen him in sunlight. She asked, "How old are you?"
Bastien sighed. "Four hundred and twelve."
"Four hundred and—jeez." She sat, then stiffened. "So, all that stuff you knew when we visited the museum…"
"I was there for the stuff I was telling you," he admitted. "Not the medieval stuff, just from the 1600s through now."
"Is that all?" she asked dryly. Then shook her head and muttered, "This is nuts."
"No, it's science," Bastien explained. "See, our Atlantean scientists made nanos that would repair and regenerate the body, but they use blood at an accelerated rate to do so, a rate the body can't keep up with. Thus, we need to ingest more blood to feed them and stay healthy. We drink blood to survive, like diabetics need insulin injected because they don't produce enough of their own."
"Atlanteans," Terri muttered. "I went and fell in love with the man from Atlantis." She glanced up sharply. "You don't have webbed fingers and toes, too, or something, do you?"
Bastien sighed, trying to remain patient. There was so much myth around both Atlantis and vampires. None of it ever tied together, however, thank goodness. "Honey, you've seen me naked. All of me. You know I don't have gills and fins."
"Oh, yes." She was silent, then cleared her throat. "Bastien?"
"Yes?" he asked hopefully.
"I think I'd like you to leave. I need some time to… er… digest this."
He felt his stomach drop. "How much time?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted.
Bastien stared at her for a minute, then stood and moved to the door. He paused, then glanced back to ask, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"No, of course not. They'd think I was nuts, anyway."
He nodded. "Good. Because you'd threaten my whole family—including Kate."
"Kate?" Terri's head snapped up.
Bastien nodded. "Lucern turned her. She's his life mate."
"Was she willing?"
"Of course she was," he snapped. "We don't go turning people without their permission. Well, we did Rachel," he admitted. "But she was an exception. She was dying, and we had to save her."
"Rachel is a vampire, but wasn't one before?" she asked.
"No."
"And Greg?"
"Your garden variety Canadian psychologist—until he and Lissianna fell in love and she turned him."
Terri nodded slowly. "So, for me to be your mate, you'd have to turn me?"
"Yes. If you were willing."
"And if I wasn't?"
"Then I'd have to watch you age and weaken and die, just as you did Ian and your mother—only over a much longer period of time, of course. I'd do that for you, Terri. And I'd love you till the end. It would kill me, but… we mate for life in our family." He opened the door, took a step out, then turned. "I'll be staying at the George Hotel for two nights, then I fly back to America."
Terri nodded slowly, and he nodded back; then he pulled the door closed and walked to his rental car. Bastien didn't know if he'd done the right thing leaving her with this knowledge. He might be risking his entire family. But love was about trust, and he trusted Terri. She loved him, arid while she might not be able to accept what he was in the end, she would never set out to hurt him.
Terri unwrapped her prawn sandwich, took a bite, then set it down with a sigh and glanced out her office window. Prawn was her favorite, but it didn't taste very good at the moment. Nothing did since she'd left New York. Since leaving Bastien.
Terri grimaced and picked up her sandwich again. It had been almost a week since Bastien had left her cottage. And while she had said she needed time to digest what he'd told her… well, she had indigestion. She couldn't quite seem to get a grip on what he was. Terri understood what he had said, and while she knew there was probably a lot more explanation, she could mostly comprehend the nanos and blood bit. But understanding and believing and accepting were vastly different things. Terri
understood
what he claimed to be, she
believed
it was possible, but she was having trouble
accepting
it. Her wonderful, sweet, perfect, fairy-tale romance had turned out to have a twist. Prince Charming was a bloodsucker.
"That looks tasty."
Terri glanced up at that dry comment, then leapt to her feet. "Kate!"
"Hi." Grinning, the other woman removed her sunglasses and started forward, walking around the desk with every intention of hugging her.
Fear shooting through her, Terri instinctively held her hand out to stop her cousin, then blinked at the sandwich she was holding up like some Victorian wench holding up a cross.
"Bite?" she offered lamely.
Kate stared at the sandwich, burst out laughing and took it. She tossed it in the garbage bin under Terri's desk, snatched her hand, and drew her towards the door. "Come on, we're going to Harvey Nichols for lunch."
"Oh, but Harvey Nichols is so expensive," Terri protested, dragging her feet.
Much to her amazement, it didn't even slow Kate down. Terri had to wonder if the added strength bit in vampire movies was true.
"It is," Kate answered, as if she'd spoken the thought aloud. She grabbed Terri's light spring coat off the rack as she dragged her cousin past it.
"You can read my mind?" Terri asked, shocked.
"Yes. That's true, too," Kate said mildly.
"So, all that time, Bastien could read my mind?" she asked in horror. "He knew what I was thinking?"
"Nope. He couldn't read your mind. Which is why you two are perfect together."
"It is?"
"Uh-huh."
"Kate, I don't think…" Terri paused abruptly as her cousin stopped walking and turned to face her, eyes narrowed.
"Terri, I am Kate. The same Kate you've always known. The cousin you love, who loves you. The girl you used to hunt tadpoles with. Nothing has changed. And it upsets me that you would be afraid of me because of a change in my medical condition." She paused, then added, "Especially since I took time out of my
honeymoon
to come here and straighten out what Bastien messed up."
"Your honeymoon?" Terri whispered.
"Yes. My honeymoon," Kate repeated. "The minute Marguerite called and told me what happened, I insisted Lucern and I change our original plans to include Huddersfield, England, as part of our tour. Then I left Lucern all alone and lonely in the George Hotel and caught the train here to Leeds to see you, all because I love you. I want you happy. I would never hurt you. If I'd wanted to bite you, I could have done so countless times while you were staying with me in New York, but I didn't. I don't bite. Now, please just come to lunch and let me maybe make more sense of this for you. That way, you can at least make an informed decision." Terri hesitated then nodded. "All right."
"Bastien, you aren't listening to me," Marguerite Argeneau accused.
"Yes, I am, mother," Bastien said, a tad impatiently. He didn't bother to lift his eyes from the file he was reading.
"Then what did I say?"
Bastien set down the papers he'd been going through, and sat back in his chair to give her his undivided attention. Not that she noticed; she wasn't looking at him at all, but was pacing back and forth in front of his desk with agitation. Sighing wearily, he recounted, "You said that you received a letter from someone this morn—"
"From Vincent," she cut in.
"Fine, from Vincent," he repeated dutifully, then paused to frown. "Why would Vincent send you a letter? He's staying in the penthouse with us. Why didn't he just—"
"Good lord, you really are out of it," Marguerite interrupted. Pausing in front of his desk, she scowled at him over her crossed arms, then heaved a sigh and reminded him, "Vincent is back in California."
"Is he?"
"Yes. He is. He flew home a week ago."
"What about his play?" Bastien asked with a frown.
"Dracula,
the musical?"
She gave a discounting wave and began to pace again. "The production closed down two weeks ago."
"Already?" His eyes widened. "I should have gone to see it on opening night, but I didn't know it had opened. Did I?" he asked, not at all sure that he hadn't been told and either not paid attention or just let it slip his mind. Many things had slipped his mind since Terri left.
Marguerite stopped her pacing to say with exaggerated patience, "It never made it to opening night, Bastien."
His eyebrows rose. "Why?"
"They had to close down. Too many of the cast and crew dropped out due to illness."
"What kind of illness?" Bastien asked, his eyes narrowing.
Marguerite hesitated. "They weren't sure."
He couldn't help noticing that his mother was suddenly avoiding his gaze. "Mother," he said in warning tones.
Sighing, she admitted, "They weren't sure, but apparently it was some sort of contagious anemia."
"Contagious anemia," Bastien echoed with disgust. There was no such thing as contagious anemia. Now he knew where Vincent had been doing his feeding since arriving in New York. He shook his head in wonder. "The man ate himself out of his first lead role in a play. Dear Lord! How did he manage that? What was he thinking?"
"I don't think he was," Marguerite said with a sigh. "Thinking, that is. I suspect he was so nervous about his lead role that he just—"