From Fear to Eternity: An Immortality Bites Mystery (6 page)

“Do I hear twelve?” Sebastien asked.

“Twelve,” Thierry said.

Veronique turned fully around in her seat to look at Thierry with shock. “
Mon dieu
! What on earth are you doing?”

“Let him bid on the trinket, my sweet,” Jacob said. “He obviously has the money to spare.”

She ignored him. “After all this time, you’re still desperate to acquire that horrible object?”

Thierry’s expression tensed. “It’s none of your business, Veronique. It never was.”

Her gaze flicked to me. “This is not good, my dear. He was obsessed by this piece at one time.”

“A little obsession is good for the soul?” I offered.

She frowned. “You are much less help than I would have expected.”

Veronique turned back around, but there was a tension in her shoulders that indicated that she was angry with the both of us. For what it was worth, I thought her little outburst showed that she cared for Thierry’s well-being.

For now, and for her own good, she couldn’t know the truth.

Look at me—I was getting to be just as secretive as Thierry.

“Twelve and a half!” Atticus, who now favored fractions, practically shouted.

“Thirteen,” Thierry countered.

Another glare that could crush diamonds hurtled from the lead elder in our direction. His gaze fixed on me, and I tried to look shocked by anything Thierry said. Shocked and slightly embarrassed, as if I was sorry Thierry was making Atticus’s life difficult.

I wondered if Tasha might be impressed by my acting skills.

“Hello?” someone said, loud and clear in my ear.

I turned around to look, but saw only the bland expressions of the people sitting behind me.

Thierry and Atticus continued to battle back and
forth. The bidding reached fifteen million, which only helped the big knot in my stomach get bigger and knottier.

“Helloooo?” the voice said again, a bit more urgently. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Who’s saying that?” I whispered.

“You can hear me!” There was a note of triumph in the voice now, as well as a large helping of desperation. “Oh, please, you have to help me. I don’t know what’s going on. This has been a very bad night! I think. But I don’t really remember! I don’t even know where I am. Where am I? What is this place?”

Again, I turned in my seat, trying to pinpoint the owner of the voice. He sounded vaguely familiar. “Who is that?”

Thierry eyed me with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Good question. What was wrong? I didn’t know for sure, but something was.

“I’m hearing something,” I said. “Something . . . strange. Somebody’s talking to me.”

“You seem so familiar to me,” the voice said.

“Who are you?” I said louder, feeling breathless and tense. I’d gained the attention of many people, who now looked at me with growing alarm.

“Wait. I know you! You’re the one I spoke to earlier! I recognize your voice!”

I’d spoken to him earlier? Wouldn’t I remember something like that?

Just then the realization hit me like a bucket of cold water right in my face.

I shot straight up from my chair, which clattered backward, hitting the gentleman behind me in his knees. Everyone in the room stared at me with shock.

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, making a jabby gesture
in the general direction of the kitchen. “The head! There was a talking head!”

The gavel slammed down, its crack echoing through the room.

Sebastien pointed at me. “Sold to Sarah Dearly for seventeen million
dollars.”

“W
ait! That’s not fair!” Atticus leapt to his feet, his face red with outrage. “You didn’t even give me a chance to counterbid!”

“Sorry. My auction, my rules.” Sebastien turned to the rest of the audience. “Thank you all for coming. For those of you with the winning bids, please see Thomas to arrange payment and claim your item.”

I couldn’t process what he was saying. I was too busy trying to scoot out of my row, blocked by all of the other guests who now wanted to leave the salon.

“Sarah, what is going on?” Thierry asked, his hands firmly on my shoulders. “What do you mean by a talking head?”

My thoughts were a jumble, but at least my memories were working properly again. “I saw it, and then . . . then what? I just forgot? Why did I forget?” I felt ill. The voice I’d heard had disappeared, but the memory was now scorched into my brain. “I need to get to the kitchen.”

“Sarah, are you all right?” Tasha asked as I slipped past her toward the exit.

“Nope! Not really!”

Thierry kept pace with me, turning his back on the
amulet to follow me out of the room. I made a beeline to the kitchen, where I’d gone earlier to get ice.

I’d seen him, and then I’d forgotten him—like, it had just vanished from my head. Even still, all evening it was as if there was something on the tip of my tongue. Something just out of reach.

He’d asked for my help and I’d forgotten he even existed. Now I could hear him without seeing him.

What in the world was going on here tonight?

“I know it sounds hard to believe, Thierry,” I said, not taking my eyes off my target. “But there’s a severed head in the freezer. One that spoke to me, told me he’d been
murdered
. I don’t know why I forgot about him, but something very strange is going on here. Stranger than . . . well, the strangeness this evening already had.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A talking severed head.”

“You must think I’m nuts, but just wait.” My heels clicked as I pushed open the door to the kitchen. Melanie the server trailed after us.

“Can I help you find something?” she asked.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice anything strange.” I looked at her with accusation. “You’re the only server on duty tonight other than Thomas.”

She placed a hand on her chest as if taken aback by my words. “I don’t know what you mean. Strange in what way?”

“My dear, what on earth is happening?” Veronique also joined us in the kitchen, and Tasha was right behind her.

“Here’s what’s happening.” I took a position directly in front of the freezer. “Take a look at this!”

I swung open the freezer door expecting to hear gasps of horror from those gathered in front of me.

Instead, I got blank looks.

I turned to see that the freezer was empty, apart from several ice cube trays. Peering closer at the inside, I could confirm that nothing else was in there. No bloodstains, no drool, no messages scratched by a desperate tooth. Nothing at all that would show that there had been a head in there.

But there
was
a head in there.

Wasn’t there?

“Sarah . . .” Thierry’s voice was as gentle and supportive as I’d ever heard it, which wasn’t necessarily a good sign. “Do you see a severed head in the freezer right now?”

Great. He really did think I was crazy.

“No, there is no head.”

“But there was before.”

“Yes.”

“Are you absolutely certain about that?”

“Yes! I’m absolutely certain!”

“You said you forgot about it until just a little while ago when you heard . . . a voice.” At my bleak look, he spread his hands. “I’m not doubting you. I’m simply trying to understand.”

I racked my brain for answers. “Maybe it was a ghost. A ghost head.”

“You are able to see ghosts?” Veronique asked, brightening. “Vampiric clairvoyance is a skill I’ve always envied.”

I shot her a look. “Don’t envy it. It hasn’t been a lot of fun so far.”

“I suppose it’s all in how you look at it, isn’t it? Thierry, you’ve had that ability as well from time to time. You didn’t see anything? Hear anything?”

“No.” His jaw tensed. “However, I have discovered
recently that Sarah’s skills at clairvoyance may be superior to my own. In the recent past, she’s seen things that I have not.”

“Great. Just what I always want to excel at.” I sighed, and then looked in the freezer again as if I might have missed a human head sitting in there. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Had I imagined it? That would explain the first sighting, but not the talking in my head. I’d been known to have long conversations with myself sometimes, but not usually with an imaginary friend.

“What did this . . . head . . . say to you?” Thierry asked.

“Not much. He sounded confused, but he was certain he’d been murdered. Which isn’t much of a stretch. There aren’t too many decapitated heads walking around from self-inflicted wounds.”

“Or walking around at all,” Veronique added unhelpfully. “Since it would have no legs.”

“Maybe something was put in Sarah’s drink that might make her hallucinate,” Tasha suggested. “Recreational drugs are everywhere and if you’re not used to them they can pack a punch, even for a vampire.”

“Drugs might affect Sarah more than the rest of us,” Veronique agreed. “She is, after all, a mere fledgling.”

“It wasn’t drugs,” I said, choosing to ignore the “mere fledgling” remark. “I—I don’t know what happened, but he’s gone now.”

“What did he look like?” Tasha asked. “Any discerning features?”

“He looked . . . normal, I guess. Nothing weird. Just a guy. Brown hair, brown eyes.”

“A ghost,” Thierry said, nodding. “It must be.
Many of these old mansions are rumored to be haunted. I think this would be the most likely explanation.”

“Perhaps he was murdered decades ago,” Tasha said. “And he’s been haunting this place every day since.”

“I don’t know.” After the initial shock at remembering the head, I’d started to calm down and think a bit more rationally. Emphasis on
a bit
. “I guess that’s possible. And if so, I don’t think there’s much I can do to help him.”

“We should leave,” Thierry said.

Even though that was all I’d wanted to do since we first arrived, the thought of leaving now felt wrong. Maybe the ghost head had been here for ages, but the fact that he’d directly asked for my help and I couldn’t do anything to help him bothered me deeply.

I did know that the average, run-of-the-mill ghost was not a threat to the living. They were more like watching something on a TV screen. They could be seen (by those with that ability), they could be heard, but they couldn’t harm the living. They couldn’t kill. They were just super-creepy. Especially when they weren’t all in one piece.

“Sorry, ghost guy,” I said under my breath as I allowed Thierry to guide me out of the kitchen and back toward the foyer, where there was a mass exodus going on of guests leaving through the front doors.

Atticus stepped in front of me and offered me a patient smile.

“Sarah, we need to talk about the amulet.”

Thierry nudged me aside. “You need to do no such thing.”

“I believe I was talking to your wife, not to you.” His eyes flashed. “Had I known for sure that you would challenge me for that piece—”

“What would you have done?” Thierry asked. “Please tell me. I’m fascinated.”

Atticus stepped closer to Thierry, all pretense of friendliness gone. “Don’t push me, de Bennicoeur.”

“I haven’t even touched you. Yet.”

“I wanted the amulet.”

“I know. That message has come through loud and clear. Unfortunately, you were not the winner of the auction.”

“Nor were you.”

“No. But the results are the same.”

Atticus spoke to me over Thierry’s shoulder. “I will pay you twice the winning bid. I need that amulet.”

Thirty-four million dollars? “Why do you want it so badly?” I asked.

“I have my reasons.”

“Reasons to possess a powerful djinn with the ability to grant your wishes,” Thierry said coldly. “Interesting that you’d
need
something like that.”

“Don’t even go there, de Bennicoeur. You were the one who wanted it first. What reasons did you have to exploit its powers?”

“None worth sharing in present company.”

“It’s fascinating to witness how many you’ve fooled. But, as they say, a tiger doesn’t change its stripes.”

“Are you speaking about me or yourself?”

“We were friends once.”

“Friends don’t push friends into agreements under threat.”

“I thought we’d dealt with this.”

“Perhaps to your satisfaction, but not to mine.”

I hooked my arm through Thierry’s and pulled him back a couple of steps. “Okay, let’s break this up. No reason why things have to get nasty.”

“Your wife has much more sense than you do,” Atticus observed. “For all her youth, she surprises me with her ability to see potential difficulties.”

Thierry’s arm was like steel beneath my grip. “She will not sell you the amulet.”

“Be careful with this one, Sarah,” Atticus cautioned. “Get away from him while you still can.”

“This is ridiculous,” I said, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “We should get going.”

Atticus’s gaze moved to my throat. “Just as I suspected. Thierry, have you again given in to your thirst tonight?”

Crap.
I’d just flashed him the bite marks.

Thierry’s silence spoke very dangerous volumes before he uttered a word. “We’re done here, Atticus.”

“You think it’s that easy? You disappointed me. I thought we were starting out as friends anew, after all this time apart. I guess I was wrong.”

“You’ve been wrong about many things over the years.”

“Not that you cared. You disappeared a hundred years ago and left Silas, Michael, and me with all the bulk of the responsibility. The others never forgave you for abandoning the Ring.”

“Silas and Michael are dead now, aren’t they? They won’t be forgiving anyone anymore.”

Anna and Frederic stood nearby, speaking to each
other, but it was clear to me that they were also listening in on this argument. Tasha lingered by the entrance to the hallway leading back toward the parlor, and she shared a tense look with me.

“Your thirst puts those around you in danger. It always has,” Atticus continued. “This is only more evidence. Perhaps I should call in an enforcer to deal with these difficulties.”

“Oh, Atticus.” Veronique spoke up. She’d been observing till now, her arms crossed over her chest. “You always did overreact to the silliest things.”

His gaze flicked to me before returning to Thierry. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I’ve given my card to Sarah. If she has any issues with you, she’s to call me immediately.”

“Issues?” Thierry’s brows shot up as his tone turned darker. “Let me repeat myself, Atticus. We’re done here. Sarah, let’s arrange payment for the amulet and be on our way.”

By far the best idea he’d had all evening. Possibly all year.

Atticus was deadly silent as Thierry put his hand on the small of my back and guided me across the foyer in the direction of the salon.

“I’m sorry he saw the marks,” I said.

“Don’t be.” His jaw clenched and his expression grew pained. “I’m sorry I bit you. Devastated, actually.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Really, I am. Are you feeling better now?”

His gray eyes flicked to mine, the ice that had been in them before while dealing with Atticus only a chilly memory now. “I wish I could say I was, but I’m
not. I’m afraid it’s still dangerous to be around me right now.”

“You have it under control.”

“I do give that impression, but don’t buy into it completely, Sarah. If I ever really harmed you . . .” He hissed out a breath. “I don’t think I could live with myself.”

I pulled him off to the side of the hallway and cupped his face between my hands. “Stop it. That’s not going to happen because you’ve got this. A little blood doesn’t make or break you. You hear me?”

His expression remained tense, but he nodded. “I hear you.”

“Good.” I couldn’t let this swirl around my mind a moment longer. I had to get it out. “Before we get the amulet, I have to tell you something about Sebastien.”

I told him about the blood in the glass being Sebastien’s doing. About his being trapped in the tomb for centuries. About his assumption that it had been Thierry’s fault.

Thierry’s eyes widened. “What?”

It was a good reaction. I liked the shock. Thierry didn’t do shock unless he was really, well, shocked.

“He’s simmering with a lot of anger toward you. I mean, rightfully so, really. If somebody locked me in a closet for hundreds of years, I’d be really pissed off, too.”

He gaped at me. Again, Thierry did not gape. I didn’t think gaping was an expression I’d ever seen on his face before, actually.

“I’m assuming that he’s wrong,” I said when he didn’t reply. “That you didn’t do it.”

“Of course I didn’t.”

Relief flowed over me. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have a little confirmation.”

“Did you believe him?”

“No.” It was a tiny lie. I’d hoped really, really hard he hadn’t done it. I absently slid my hand over a golden frame on the wall in the dimly lit hallway. “But I knew you were a little more . . . well, ruthless, back in the day. For the record, I do separate that Thierry from you in my mind.”

He had his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m the exact same man.”

I flicked a look at him. “You’re not helping.”

“I didn’t trap Sebastien as he claims.”

“You said he had your thirst. If he was harming people . . .”

“If I had a serious issue with him, locking him away would not have been my solution. I would have chosen something much more permanent.”

“Again, not really helping, especially spoken so casually.” I grimaced at the thought. “So basically we have a little problem that what he thinks happened did not actually happen.”

“He always hated me. Now, believing this to be true, he’ll feel justified in trying to seek revenge.”

“All the more reason for us to get out of here ASAP. But first we need that amulet.”