The Vampire Next Door (19 page)

She whirled on him. “Why?”

He laughed. “I was kidding.”

“Oh.” She felt silly whenever she didn’t recognize his humor. Oh well, she’d catch on eventually.

“Getting back to why I didn’t mesmerize you…”

“Yes?”

“If I hadn’t let you talk, I wouldn’t have discovered some important information.”

She stopped admiring the artwork and turned to face him. “What information?”

He set the suitcase down, crossed to her, and grasped her shoulders gently. “That you love me.”

She glanced up at him coquettishly. “Did I say that?”

“Sort of.” He drew her in and held her close.

She tensed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She let out a deep sigh. “Okay, there is something, but it’s no big deal.”

“Spill it.”

She hesitated a moment, then mumbled, “You didn’t say it back.”

He stroked her hair. “That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“So, I’m in this alone for now?”

“You’re not alone. I’m just…”

She looked up at him, expectantly.

“I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe I’m still not used to the idea of being
with
someone other than my late wife. Or I’ve been missing Alice for so long, I have to let go of that first. Or maybe I’m just being cautious. I don’t really know. I’m sorry. I guess that’s not really helping.”

She nodded but didn’t speak. She didn’t want her voice to tremble or crack.
It’ll be okay. He’ll come around—I hope.

Suddenly, Sly’s body slid out of her grasp and fell to the floor.

“Sly!”

She looked at the heap and couldn’t fathom what had happened. Kneeling next to him, she shook his wilted body.

“Sly! Wake up!” His chest wasn’t rising and falling.
Oh, no. Is he dead?
A moment later, she rolled her eyes at herself.
Well, of course he’s dead. He’s been undead for twenty-six years. He told me once he only takes a few breaths per hour.

Suddenly it occurred to her—the sunrise. It must be sunrise! She rushed to the window and spied a faint purplish-pink sky and a golden glow behind mostly dark buildings.

“Oh, crap. Now what do I do?”

She had to protect him from the sunlight. He had explained that a suite would afford them a room they could darken while she remained in another room with the sunbeams streaming in during the day.

This schedule sucks.

She had to act fast. There was no way she could drag him across a carpeted living room all the way to the bedroom, avoid the growing light, then lift him onto the bed and seal the curtains shut before the sun caused him to burst into flames.
I could close and tape the curtains first… No, that would take too long, and meanwhile the sun is rising!

Thinking fast, she grabbed his wrists and dragged his lifeless body into the bathroom.
No windows in here at all. Perfect!

But what if she had to go?

She pondered that for about a minute, then realized he wouldn’t wake up if she sat on his stomach and played solitaire all day. “Okay, I guess you’re safe from the sun.”
And I’m safe from embarrassment.

She strode to the bedroom, pulled a blanket and pillow off the bed, then returned to the luxurious, spa-like bath and tucked him in.

Did it always happen like this? Passing out no matter where he was when the sun rose?
That could be quite inconvenient.
That’s when she realized that he needed her as much as she needed him.

Merry pounded on the door of apartment 3b for the third time. “Morgaine!”
Where the hell is she?

Gwyneth was jogging up the stairs. “Merry? What on earth’s going on? I ain’t never heard you yellin’ like that before.”

“Oh, Gwyneth, do you know where Sly and Morgaine are?”

“Yeah, they went to New York City for a spell.”

“A spell? Morgaine had to go all the way to New York for something to do a spell?”

Gwyneth chuckled. “Well, yes and no. I meant they went away for a while. A spell is just another way of saying ‘a while.’ As it turns out, Morgaine is givin’ a friend some magickal help too.”

“Oh… Oh!” Merry clutched her pregnant belly and doubled over with the pain of another contraction.

“I do declare, Merry. Are y’all are in labor?”

She did her Lamaze breathing and nodded.

“Oh, dear. Where’s Jason?”

When the pain eased, Merry straightened. “At his parents’ house in Minnesota. His dad’s had another heart attack. We decided that since it’s about three weeks before my due date, I shouldn’t fly. Roz is my backup, but I can’t get ahold of her.”

“Oh, my goodness. Well, what did you have planned? Was you doin’ a home birth or hospital?”

“Hospital. I can’t drive myself though. Can you drive?”

“I ain’t got a driver’s license, but I’m sure I could figure it out if y’all have an automatic transmission and I don’t have to shift the thingy.”

Merry laughed. “No offense, but driving in this city isn’t a piece of cake for experienced drivers. Never mind. I’ll think of something else.”

“Maybe Nathan can drive. Let me run down and ask him.”

“Let’s take the elevator.”

“Too slow. Y’all can take it—or better yet, wait here and I’ll call up to ya with what he says.”

Merry worried about another contraction coming on, so she just nodded.

Gwyneth took off running down the stairs. She disappeared from view, and Merry heard her footsteps fade as they tapped out a staccato beat on the marble steps.

She braced herself through the next contraction and barely heard Gwyneth talking to the resident of Apt 1A.

After a brief wait, Gwyneth yelled up the stairwell. “Nathan don’t drive neither, but he says he’ll take y’all on the back of his bicycle.”

Merry laughed and called down. “No, thank you.”

Gwyneth’s feet tapped up the stairs again. “Let me try Jules or Lily.”

“Never mind. I’ll take a cab.”

When Gwyneth finally reached her, Merry was panting. “I’ll go with y’all.”

“That’s sweet, but you don’t have to.”

“Y’all need a birthin’ coach, right?”

“Have you ever witnessed a birth before?”

“Sugar, I’m from the hills of Tennessee. I’ve seen my share of home births. A hospital with doctors and nurses helpin’ should be a piece of cake, as y’all would say.”

Gwyneth wouldn’t have been Merry’s first choice, or even her third or fourth, but at this point she couldn’t be picky. “Thank you. I’ll need my suitcase.”

*   *   *   *

In the Admissions waiting room, Gwyneth paced while Merry waited patiently. How could she be so cool, calm, and collected? Maybe it was just the relief of knowing she was at the hospital. She probably felt comfortable here, being a nurse and all.

“Gwyneth, why don’t you sit down?”

“Sorry, Merry. Hospitals make me as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

“Everything’s going to be fine. Take a seat.”

“Did y’all call Jason?”

“Yes.”

“Is he flyin’ back?”

“Yes, but flights were all booked up. He won’t get here until tomorrow at the earliest.”

A wave of relief washed over Gwyneth. “Thank the Lord and Lady. He’ll be here in plenty of time.”

Merry squinted at her. “What do you mean? You don’t think I’ll be in labor
that
long, do you?”

“I wouldn’t want to second-guess Mother Nature or nothin’, but this is your first baby. I knew a girl what went seventy-two hours, screamin’ and pitchin’ fits.”

Merry’s eyes rounded and she blanched.

“Oh, but don’t worry, sugar.” Gwyneth strode over to her and patted her shoulder. “I’m sure y’all will be just fine.”

“Uh… me too. Oddly enough, I haven’t had a contraction in about ten minutes. Maybe they’re Braxton-Hicks.”

“Who? I ain’t heard tell of them hicks. Are they from West Virginny?”

Merry smiled, then coughed. “No, those are the names of the two people who scientifically studied false labor.”

“False labor? Y’all faked this whole thing? Why?”

“No, I didn’t fake anything. Sometimes it just happens. A woman has contractions for a few hours, then they stop. You’ve never heard of that?”

“Hell, no. Back home if a woman starts grittin’ her teeth, y’all better boil some water and get out the clean towels. There’s no fakin’ allowed.”

“It’s not faking…” Merry took a deep breath and sighed. “Never mind.”

Gwyneth patted her hand. “It’s all right. I don’t blame y’all fer bein’ scared. I’ve heard some horror stories about birthin’ babies, and y’all have probably heard them too.

The woman behind the glass window called Merry’s number.

“Oh, thank God.”

“And I’ll thank the Goddess. Now let’s go have that baby, and no more stallin’, ya hear?”

*   *   *   *

In the restaurant’s horseshoe-shaped bench seat, Sly stretched, trying to get the crick out of his neck. He probably got it from sleeping on cold tile all day, but he wasn’t about to complain. Morgaine had probably saved his life. Plus she had spent the day all alone, except for one phone call to Mikhail to set up this meeting.

The waiter at the French restaurant seemed to know Mikhail well. His “special wine” was brought to the table without his even ordering it.

“Does Monsieur wish to share his owner’s reserve with everyone?”

“No, Pierre. Just the other gentleman and myself will be drinking my special vintage tonight. The lady can order whatever she likes.”

Morgaine smiled and asked for herbal tea.

The waiter said, “Very good,” and left.

Delicious aromas teased Sly’s palate, but naturally, he wouldn’t be able to partake. At times like this, he envied the living.

Over the chatter from other patrons, Morgaine had made introductions. Mikhail seemed like an affable fellow. Tall, dark, and aristocratic but without the arrogant air Sly had expected from the older, more experienced vampire.

“Tell me how you like it.” Mikhail nodded toward Sly’s glass.

Sly took a sip. The smooth red wine slid down his throat and was like nothing he’d ever tasted. A moment later, his blood thirst was gone!

“Amazing,” he breathed. “I feel—better.” He glanced around the restaurant to be sure no one could overhear. “Is it always like that? Instantaneous, I mean?”

Mikhail shrugged one shoulder. “It depends. If you haven’t fed for a while, it might take longer. And if you have to spend prolonged periods in sunlight, you’ll probably need more. But be careful. It’s potent.”

Sly swirled what was in his glass. “Have you ever gotten drunk on it?”

Mikhail grinned. “Tipsy maybe, but not drunk.”

Sly took another tentative sip and smiled.
A cure! At last!
“Are there any other things I should know? Will it sap my strength or dull my senses?”

“No. That’s why it’s so popular among our kind. It removes the negative effects of our condition, while allowing us to keep the positive.”

Sly shook his head in wonder. “It’s a miracle.”

“You might still need sunglasses and sunscreen. I imagine it’s been a long time since you’ve been exposed to sunlight.”

He sighed. “Twenty-six years.”

“Only twenty-six?” Mikhail didn’t appear to be joking or sardonic.

The waiter returned with Morgaine’s herbal tea. She had been studying the menu and was probably starved after all day in the hotel room.

“Would the lady like to order?” the waiter asked.

“Yes, please. I’ll have the coq au vin, spring greens with the house dressing on the side, and do you bring rolls or bread to the table first?”

He grinned. “Only the best warm wheat rolls in the world.”

She licked her lips. “Hurry.”

The waited bowed slightly and rushed off.

Sly chuckled. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

Mikhail crossed his arms. “Aren’t you taking care of my dear, old friend?”

Sly saddened. “I would have, but I’m afraid sunrise snuck up on me this morning. Had I thought of it before I passed out on the floor, I’d have urged her to order room service.” He took her hand. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to add any charges to the bill since you’d paid up front and didn’t have a credit card.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

The waiter returned with a small basket of rolls that smelled freshly baked. He set a tiny crock of butter in front of Morgaine, and she dove into the appetizer.

“How do you two know each other?” Mikhail asked.

“We live in the same apartment building. Our friendship goes back to the night she moved in—what was it, nine years ago?”

“Ey,” she mumbled with her mouth full.

The guys chuckled.

Sly changed the subject. “So, if you don’t mind my asking—how old are you?”

“About six hundred,” Mikhail answered casually.

“Six hundred! I can’t fathom six hundred years on earth. Think of the changes you must have witnessed over the centuries.”

Mikhail swirled the wine in his glass. “The last century was the most impressive as far as change, but people are the same.”

Sly tipped his head. “How so?”

“Greedy, acquisitive, then surprised when all that doesn’t make them happy. But technology has certainly changed. We used to need a horse for transportation. Now we have trains, planes, and automobiles.”