Destined For a Vampire (17 page)

I had no idea why Lilly’s mother wasn’t in the picture. No one had ever mentioned her, but now, considering tonight’s cast of characters, I was more than a little curious.

“She does? What happened to her mother?”

I watched Lilly fiddle with the big red bow around the duckling’s neck, a very maternal gesture. I wanted to ask a thousand questions, but I couldn’t let myself forget that she was just a child, just a baby really.

Then something occurred to me: I’d heard of therapists using stuffed animals in children’s sessions before. I couldn’t see why I shouldn’t give it a try.

“What happened to your mother, Lilly?” I asked, careful to address my question to the duck Lilly, not the real Lilly.

Lilly just shrugged, putting a white handkerchief in the duckling’s lap like a napkin. When she began to pour tea, evidently having no intention of answering my question, I took a different tack.

“What about you, Mr. Mallard? What happened to Lilly’s mother?”

“Her daddy doesn’t talk about it. But he’s sad. He loved his Mrs. Mallard and wishes he could see her every day.”

Lilly was twisting my heart around her teeny tiny finger and she didn’t even know it. I wanted to gather her in my arms and make her pain go away.

“One day, maybe Mr. Mallard will find someone else he loves just as much and Lilly will love her, too, and she can be a part of their family,” I offered tenderly.

Oh, how I hoped that could happen for sweet Lilly!

Lilly’s perfect cupid’s-bow mouth rounded into a silent “oh”, her shimmering eyes widening in excitement as she looked toward me.

“Could you marry Mr. Mallard? You could be Lilly’s new momma.”

If possible, my heart squeezed even tighter.

“I’m not a duck. I couldn’t marry Mr. Mallard.”

“But Lilly likes you.”

“And I like Lilly. It’s just that Mr. Mallard needs another duck. So does Lilly. And one day, Mr. Mallard will find that perfect duck and they’ll get married and then Lilly and her family can live happily ever after.”

Lilly sighed, chewing at her lip. “I guess,” she said, nodding in agreement.

But I wasn’t convinced. Her expression said that she didn’t have any hope that her family would ever be whole again.

How could a child so young, so sweet, have so much adult despair in her big beautiful eyes? What had happened in her short life to put it there? What tragedy had stolen the bliss of her youth?

With a resilience that only the innocent can manage, Lilly snapped right out of her melancholy and began presiding over her tea party as only a princess can. I laughed more than once at her charming performance and quick mind. I was rapidly discovering that she was a truly amazing child.

Lilly took a break from hosting to watch some cartoons. I sat on the couch opposite her, but it wasn’t long until she climbed down from hers and walked over to mine, crawling up to sit beside me.

As we watched the animated adventures of Dora, Lilly inched her way closer and closer to me until her head was in my lap and her thumb was nestled squarely in her mouth.

I reached down to brush a few chestnut strands away from her cheek and her soft, sweet baby scent wafted up to my nose. Her lids began to blink more slowly until they dropped and didn’t rise again.

Her tiny shoulders rose and fell with her deep, even breathing and I thought I could actually feel her wiggling her way into my heart and making herself a place there.

I waited a few minutes, letting her get good and asleep before moving her, then I picked her up and carried her to her bed, tucking her snugly beneath her Princess Jasmine comforter.

After I’d put her to bed, I wandered aimlessly through the house. At the front of my mind were two things: that book in Sebastian’s office and the way I lost time the last time I was here.

It made me uneasy to think about, especially since I still wasn’t sure what had happened. I was grateful that it hadn’t happened since then, and I hoped that it wouldn’t again. But in some strange way, because I
hadn’t
blacked out like that again, I seemed to be blaming the book for that first occurrence. For that reason, irrational though it was, I was hesitant to go to the book again.

I was flipping idly through a magazine when Sebastian returned home. He looked exactly as dapper as he had when he’d left, not the least bit wrinkled or mussed.

He walked straight into the den, removing his cuff links as he walked. He flopped down on the couch Lilly had first occupied and leaned his head back against the cushions.

He exhaled in an exhausted puff and said tiredly, “I hate formal events.”

I had no idea what to say to that, not having been to anything more important than prom last year. I did, however, feel really guilty that he had to take me home now.

“You know, since you’re tired, I can call my parents for a ride.”

Sebastian raised his head, frowning. “Absolutely not. It’s no trouble and I’m not that tired.”

I nodded, still feeling terrible about it.

“How did Lilly do?”

I smiled. “Great. She’s an amazing little girl.”

I thought of the odd beginning to our tea party, but said nothing. It was not my place and none of my business. That was one curiosity I’d have to take extra pains in squelching.

“She is something else,” he declared proudly. “So, no more questions about the book?”

I was confused for all of about thirty seconds and then my mouth dropped open.

“P-pardon?”

“Last time, you paused the movie to bombard me with questions as soon as I came in the door. And tonight? Nothing,” he said, grinning.

My mind was awhirl. I’d asked Sebastian questions about the book? Now, as bothersome as it was that I’d blacked out, I’d found something even more frustrating about the whole thing: I had asked questions about the book and, I would assume, had gotten some answers. Now, how was I ever going to know what I’d learned?

I put my magazine to the side and sat up straighter. “You didn’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? Mythology isn’t just my profession, it’s my passion. It’s nice to see that someone else has an interest. Ask away,” he offered.

Of course, I wanted so badly to ask him a thousand questions, but if I asked the same ones I’d already asked, he’d think I was insane. More than he probably already did, that is.

“Actually, I probably need to do some research before I ask any more questions. You know, so that I know what I’m talking about.” I smiled sheepishly, hoping he wouldn’t suspect anything out of the way.

“Sure, sure. Anytime you want to talk…”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

We fell into a bit of an uncomfortable silence, which Sebastian broke when he slapped his knees and stood.

“Well, I guess you’d like to go home sometime tonight, huh?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” I replied amicably, standing also.

When Sebastian turned toward the kitchen, making his way to the door that led to the garage, I spoke up, concerned. “Um,” I began uncertainly. “What about Lilly?”

Was he just going to leave her alone in the house, unattended, with no idea where he’d gone if she awakened?

“Our housekeeper’s here,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a housekeeper.”

Not only had I not seen her, Lilly hadn’t mentioned her either.

“She stays in her room mostly when she’s not busy.”

“Oh,” I responded, not knowing what else to say. It felt a little weird, knowing that someone had been lurking about the entire time I’d been in the house without me knowing it. It gave me the creeps for some reason, especially since there was a large portion of my last visit that I couldn’t remember.

I followed Sebastian to the car and he drove me home. We were both silent the whole way.

When he pulled up to the curb in front of my house, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his money clip, peeling another hundred dollar bill off the top.

“I really appreciate you taking care of Lilly for me,” he said sincerely, handing me the money.

“That’s too much,” I said, pushing his hand away. “You weren’t gone that long.”

“Here, take it,” he said, grabbing my fingers and winding them around the bill. His hand was warm and strong, but soft. Almost too soft. “I want you to have it.”

I didn’t want to argue too much about it, so I thanked him and got out of the car. He didn’t drive off right away. He waited until I was inside before leaving.

Mom and Dad had waited up for me.

“How’d it go?” Mom asked.

“Just fine,” I said, drawing my arms up in an exaggerated stretch. “I think I’m going to go on to bed. I’m pretty tired.”

They both nodded. I didn’t think I’d get much argument from them.

Once in my room, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, changed into my pajamas, the whole nighttime ritual. As I was shutting the bathroom light off, I gazed around my empty bedroom, feeling lonely and melancholy. I didn’t often miss my old life, but there were times when I longed for the simple problems that I used to have, the ones that I thought were earth-shattering. Oh, how perspective changes!

I lay down in my bed, resisting the urge to soothe myself with the tricks I used to use, like turning on the television or opening the window. It was starting to feel like a way of hiding from reality, from my problems, and that wouldn’t do me any good. Maybe I needed to cowboy up and face them, think about them, figure out a way to solve them. I couldn’t very well do that if I completely avoided them.

When I’d pulled the covers up to my chin and found myself staring blankly at the ceiling, I felt the draw of the familiar, of the one thing, the one person that consumed me.

I turned my head on the pillow to look at the window. There was no one outside it, but I knew Bo was close. I could still feel him that certainly. I pushed the covers back and walked over to the window. With my hands resting lightly on the sill, I looked out into the dark night. And I waited.

In less than a minute, I saw a figure emerge from the shadows beyond the driveway and make its way gracefully across the yard. If I hadn’t known, I could’ve guessed it was Bo by watching him move. He was like a light-footed predator, quick and sure.

He stopped a few feet from the window. The dusk-to-dawn light backlit his head, giving him a halo, but I could still see his face well enough to know that he watched me. My heart fluttered and my stomach clenched, squeezing tightly around the dozens of butterfly wings that moved inside it.

One slow step at a time, he made his way to the window. His nearly-black eyes never left mine until he was standing right in front of me, only a thin sheet of glass between our faces.

He said nothing, made no other move, simply stood watching me, and I him.

While I waited, I drank him in, and, as always, I was stirred.

For the first time, I noticed that his glossy black hair had grown. It brushed the collar of his charcoal t-shirt. But other than that, he looked exactly the same as the first time I’d seen him: rock hard jaw cut from the palest of stone, straight nose, chiseled mouth, dark slashing brows. He was so handsome he took my breath away.

And his eyes. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d gotten lost in their liquid depths, the number of times I’d wanted to. Over the last weeks, I could close my own eyes and picture his dark chocolate orbs with perfect clarity. They made me feel weak, just like they did now.

I raised the window and stepped back. Bo was in front of me in an instant, staring down at me wordlessly.

I shivered at his closeness, the embers of all that was between us leaping immediately to flame. But this time, the heat took a back seat to something troubling that I sensed in Bo, a sadness that seemed fresh and raw.

My brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Bo took the final step that would bring my body into contact with his and he drew me gently into his arms. Though I had no idea why, my heart felt like it was breaking.

“What is it?” I repeated, my voice muffled against the side of his neck.

Careful not to squeeze me too tightly, Bo held me as if he was a drowning man hanging on to dry land. It went a long way toward alarming me.

Still he said nothing.

And my concern mounted.

“Bo, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I felt as much as heard him sigh.

“I saw her.”

My lungs seized inside my chest. Who? The girl that was bound to take my place at his side? The only girl in the world that I felt like I couldn’t compete with?

“Who?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.

“My mother.”

I gasped.

“And?”

“She didn’t even know me.”

I closed my eyes against his pain. If a voice could bleed with a wound so deep, then Bo’s was like an arterial spray. My heart cried out for him.

“Oh, Bo,” I whispered, wishing there was something I could do or say, anything to ease the hurt. “I’m so sorry.”

“I doubted you.” It was a statement of fact. “I shouldn’t have.” And another. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“I don’t blame you. If I didn’t think you needed to know, I wouldn’t have told you. I would never hurt you like that on purpose.”

“I know. And I love you for that.”

It was wrong of me to feel so much pleasure at his words when he was in such agony. But I did.

Neither of us spoke for a long time. Bo simply held me, swaying gently back and forth. One of his hands stroked my hair, the other my back. And, while his touch sent chills racing down to my toes, the warmth of desire had succumb to a deep and abiding comfort born of love.

After several minutes had passed, Bo reached down and scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, where he gently laid me down and dragged the covers up over me. Without a word, he stretched out beside me and pulled me back into his arms. With my head on his chest, his invincible heart beating beneath my ear and his strong hands holding me tight, I knew I’d never be happier, more at peace. I knew I’d never be more whole.