La Vida Vampire (5 page)

When you’ve been buried 204 years, the smallest space you want to be in is a car. That ’s why I usually don’t take the elevator unless I’m hauling something awkward like my bicycle or surfboard.

Tonight, though, I punched in the elevator code and spent the ride up thinking that a hot shower in Maggie’s fabulous guest bath would soon calm me. Heck, just being in her condo was a tranquilizer. With fifteen-foot ceilings, exposed ductwork, huge old windows, and an open floor plan, I never feel claustrophobic at Maggie’s. The living, dining, and kitchen areas flowed into each other with only an area rug here, a sofa there to define the rooms.

Neil was still with Maggie when I let myself in. They were cuddled on the marine blue sectional sofa (one of the few non antiques in the place) watching an old
M*A*S*H
episode on the Hallmark Channel. Maggie muted the sound.

“Hey, Cesca, before I forget, Tom called from the auto paint shop. Your truck is ready, and he ’ll be in by seven thirty tomorrow morning. I don’t have to be at the office until nine, if you want a ride over there.”

“Great, Maggie, thanks.”

I sank into a wing chair she’d found at an estate sale and recovered in blue and tan plaid.

“You look funny,” she said, cocking her head at me. “What’s up?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into my misadventures with Neil there, so I sidestepped her. “Nothing. Just tired, I guess.”

“Bull. I just told you your truck, the previously owned baby you paid a small fortune for, is ready to come home tomorrow with a new paint job, and you didn’t so much as smile. What happened on the tour to upset you?”

That Maggie, she knows me too well. And she’d find out what happened through the friends of her friends who ran the tour company if I didn’t tell her. Might as well spill it.

I launched into the recap of Stony and the newlyweds, making light of it. As I spoke, Maggie sat ramrod straight on the edge of the cushions. More surprising, Neil’s expression grew grim.

“Damn it, Cesca,” he said when I finished. “Those Covenant guys are no joke. They’re the KKK without the robes and hoods.”

Maggie raised a brow. “How do you know about the Covenant?”

Neil pushed off the sofa and paced. “I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t want to make you mad, but I went to one of their meetings. It was last August, a week after you found Cesca.”

Maggie shot to her bare feet. “You considered joining up with those creeps?”

“I was worried about protecting you. I wasn’t in the meeting fifteen minutes before I realized I didn’t belong.” He turned to me. “These guys, and the few women I saw, have a hit squad mentality. You may need to quit your job.”

“Why should she?” Maggie demanded.

“To protect the innocent,” I answered. Neil did a double take. “Yes, Neil, I’m not an idiot. I thought about other people getting hurt when Stony came after me tonight. But Mick, the guide I work with? He says that’s not the Covenant MO. They don’t
want
outsider witnesses.”

“They may make an exception for you. You’re not exactly a typical vampire.”

Maggie held up a hand. “Wait just a damn minute. Before you quit a job you worked your butt off to get, shouldn’t you see what the tour company has to say? You said a supervisor has already been informed, and they ’ll have the incident report in the morning. Your next shift is tomorrow, right? Then Thursday?”

I nodded. Maggie was like a general in the heat of battle when she got wound up. Even her dad, an officer and a gentleman who lives in town and has shown me his army ribbons and medals, calls her his warrior.

“Then give them time to consider before you take any action. You’re not at fault, and you sure as hell shouldn’t act like you are. And as far as these vigilantes go—” She stopped, took a breath, and speared Neil with a narrow-eyed glance. “We’ll get a restraining order, hire a bodyguard if we have to. I will not have my friends coerced or threatened, and that’s final.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” I said smartly, just like Radar might to Hot Lips.

She blinked, then grinned. “I went off, didn’t I?”

“Like a bomb,” Neil said.

“Well, injustice pisses me off. And the point remains that you don’t quit unless Old Coast Ghosts forces the issue. Which they won’t. Tourism is the lifeblood of this town, and you’ve been a transfusion for that company. The competition would snap you up in a minute, and the owners know it.”

I could’ve done without Maggie’s blood analogy, but she was probably right. In the ghost tour business, I was more an asset than a liability. So long as a patron didn’t get hurt.

And, hey, a bodyguard was a great idea. A hunk who’d be forced to spend lots of time with me? It had potential. A guy like George Clooney—

Maggie snapped her fingers in my face. “Earth to Cesca. What are you grinning about?”

“Doesn’t look like anything I want to hear,” Neil grumped. “Talk to you tomorrow, Mags.”

He leaned to kiss Maggie’s cheek, then paused when she tipped her head ever so slightly in my direction. He straightened and turned to me.

“Um, Fresca. Surf’s supposed to be flat tomorrow, but there’s a nor’easter coming. We could try the waves Thursday morning early. At Crescent,” he said, meaning Crescent Beach. “That is, if you’re interested.”

Wow, Neil was inviting me to surf with him? Maggie must’ve turned the poor man inside out in bed. “What time?”

“Dawn? Should be high tide, too.”

“Bitchin’, dude,” I said and gave him the hang loose sign.

He rolled his eyes but cracked a smile. “And, Fresca.”

“What?” I asked. “Don’t be late?”

“Keep your cell phone charged and on you in case you need it. You’ll be a hell of a surfer if you live long enough.”

Maggie’s bedrooms aren’t mere rooms, they’re suites. Mine is to the right of the hall; Maggie’s is to the left. She’d had the bed and bath ceilings in both suites dropped to nine feet to hide the ductwork and pipes. In my room, she ’d painted the ceilings a medium soft tan with a lighter tan on the walls. Crisp white crown molding trimmed the ceilings and was repeated in the oversized baseboards. The bathroom was big enough to host a table of bridge, and it connected to a closet just as large with so many builtins I didn’t need a chest of drawers. I don’t fry in the sun, but long exposure will make me nauseated and cause skin sores. Much the way I’ve learned a lupus patient reacts to ultraviolet light. Maggie, bless her, installed room-darkening shades beneath the sage drapes on the massive northand west-facing windows to keep me from getting sun sick. The neutral paint color kept the room feeling light, even with the dark oak and cherry antiques Maggie favored.

Maggie told me I could change things, but I knew she had lovingly decorated the suite before I came along. Besides, I watch enough home improvement shows to know that warm neutrals appeal to buyers. I didn’t want to repaint before Maggie put the condo on the market. The Victorian home and my own new digs in back of the big house would be ready soon enough. I hung my Empire gown in the closet, snapped on a shower cap, and let hot water shower away my tension. Or one kind of it.

Another kind of tension, fueled by erotic dreams I’d been having of me, a man, and a pulsating showerhead, built until my breasts ached for the dream lover’s touch.
“Shameful,”
I could almost hear my mother say. I jerked the dial to cold, iced down my libido, and toweled briskly. Once I’d brushed out my hair, I pulled on cobalt blue sweatpants and my favorite gray T-shirt with a surfer on the front. There, now I was refreshed, back to my normal unsexy self, and ready to hit the books.

Just as I sat at the Empire lady’s desk of inlaid cherry and opened my laptop, Maggie knocked and poked her head in the door.

“Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”

I gestured at the Victorian fainting couch with its mound of pillows in greens, blues, and golds. “You make up with Neil?”

She grinned and sat. “I’ll make him suffer a little longer. I still can’t believe he went to a Covenant meeting.”

“He loves you.”

She arched one perfect brow. “But he
didn’t
trust my judgment about you, did he?”

“He doesn’t ask for directions either, but that doesn’t make him evil.”

“No, just a man.”

We grinned at each other, then Maggie heaved a sigh. “I owe you an apology, Cesca. Not for Neil,” she rushed on when I opened my mouth to object. “For acting like an overprotective mother.”

She looked at one of the many Victorian lady prints on the walls, and I let her gather her thoughts.

“Neil says I hover, and I know I do. It’s just, I’m forty-one years old. Neil is thirty-nine. We don’t plan to have children, so you’re the daughter I’ll never have.”

I scooted my chair around and plopped my bare feet on the end of the chaise. “No sweat, Ma.”

She shook a finger at me but smiled. “Call me that again, and I’ll take away your surfboard. Now, really, tell me the truth. Am I driving you nuts?”

“Maggie, you’ve been great.” If she drove me berserk four times an hour, I wouldn’t tell her so. I wouldn’t hurt her like that. “I even like some of the mothering,” I added for good measure.

“Such as?”

I flashed to Janie touching my arm, to Mick patting my shoulder.

“For one thing,” I said, testing the words as I went, “you’re the only person in my afterlife who hugs me.”

She did the one-brow arch thing. “Are you feeling the need to be hugged?”

I swallowed, not ready to admit to need. “I came from a family of huggers,” I said lightly. “I guess I miss it sometimes.”

“Vampires weren’t big on hugging, huh?”

I snorted. “Not in a good way.”

She gave me a long, quiet look. “Does seeing me with Neil bother you?”

I tensed but tried not to show it. “Heck, no. I think you two are adorable.”

“Can it, Cesca. I’ve seen something in your eyes. Like longing. ” She tilted her head. “Are you missing male companionship?”

“Me?” I squeaked, my feet hitting the hardwood floor as I sat up straight. “Maggie, everything’s fine. Perfectly normal.”

She nailed me with another searching gaze. “Cesca, normal isn’t a static state. It’s fluid. It’s adjusting to what life throws at us.”

“Well, sure, but I like my routine, and I’m always busy. A man would mess that up. Besides—”

I broke off, picturing Maggie and Neil. Janie and Mick. Even the newlyweds, screwy as they were. Holding hands. Kisses in the dark. Those erotic shower dreams. Was it hot in here?

“Besides what?” Maggie asked gently.

I swallowed. Was I ready to say it out loud?

I took my courage in hand. “I don’t think it’s possible to miss what I’ve never had.”

“Meaning a man?”

“Yes.” If I was coming out of denial about my yearnings, might as well do it all the way. “To be blunt, sex. How can I be horny if I’ve never had sex?”

“Because you’re a vibrant woman with wants and needs and hormones, that’s how.” She chuckled. “I should’ve had this talk with you a long time ago.”

She was kidding, but suddenly, I wasn’t. “Let’s have it now.”

“Are you serious?” She sat up straighter on the couch. “Your mother didn’t tell you about sex?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m two hundred and twenty-seven years old. What my mother told me is beyond archaic.”

“What brought this up tonight?”

I stood and paced to the Regency four-poster bed. “Besides having some really hot dreams lately, tonight Janie offered to fix me up. I told her no way, but the truth is—”

I stopped, faced Maggie, and spat it out fast. “The truth is, I want to know what it’s like to be with a man, but good guys don’t want to date vampires, and I can’t exactly go down to the marina, flip out condoms like an accordion wallet of family photos, and say, ‘Hey, sailor, wanna have a good time?’”

Maggie held it for a second, then laughed so hard she sounded asthmatic.

“You’re right,” she said, panting to get her breath. “That’s not the best approach. I take it you turned down Janie’s fix up offer?”

“In spades.” I paced back to the desk. “I think I should hire an escort. Would it cost extra for deflowering?”

“You could ask for a price list. Standard sex, deflowering sex, debauchery, orgies.”

“No orgies,” I said. “It’s way too expensive to hire the cast of thousands.”

She shook her head in mock disgust. “For a wealthy vampire princess, you can be a real tightwad.”

“True, but seeing as how we’re talking about my virginity, let’s not call me tight. Let’s call me frugal.”

“Whatever, hiring an escort to initiate you is not a good idea. Too cold -blooded, if you’ll forgive the expression.” She tapped her chin. “I shouldn’t suggest this, but why not enthrall some nice guy and have your way with him?”

“I tried that about two weeks ago, but I stink at enthralling. I couldn’t keep a straight face.”

“You laughed at him?”

I waved a dismissive hand. “No biggie. He was telling a joke and never suspected a thing.”

“Honey, believe me, if you’re horny enough, you won’t laugh. You’ll be chewing nails to get it on.”

“Great, I’m horny, but not horny enough.”

“You really want my advice?”

“When even Mick knows I’m a virgin, I
need
your advice.”

“Fine. Wait for the right guy to come along. Someone you want to be with, someone you can trust.”

“Trust not to stake me, you mean?”

She shrugged. “That and trust to care about you. Not the novelty of dating a vampire.
You.
”

“I might chew every nail in Home Depot by then.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She pushed off the fainting couch and started for the door. “Now that you’ve been honest about what you want and said it out loud, synchronicity can work like—” She snapped her fingers. “—magic.”

She shot me a dazzling smile as she sailed out, but I don’t think she heard the eerie
rrryyyow
echo from the plaza. Or saw the whiskered feline face floating outside my window.

FOUR

From the front porch of his shanty cabin in a perfect circle of trees, Cosmil sat in a willow wood rocker keeping watch for the panther.

A passerby would perceive an old gentleman in dark trousers, a loose tunic, and house slippers, but there were no passersby. In addition to the night’s fog, the dense woods and faeries saw to his privacy, never mind the concealing spell and wards he’d reset just today.