Sips of Blood (11 page)

"I didn't want to add too much, sir."

"Too little is just as bad." Sade wrinkled
his nose in disapproval. "The soup? How is it doing?"

"Fine. The roast is in the oven and Cecelia
is making the salad."

Cecelia smiled at Sade as she drew a cucumber
delicately from her straw basket. She washed the cucumber under
running water, rubbing her hands up and down the dark green skin to
remove all surface soil.

Sade sighed.

"What is all this?" asked Liliana, entering
the room. "I've never seen the kitchen so busy or so lively with
delicious smells."

"Matilda and Cecelia are preparing
dinner."

"Really, Uncle, sometimes I think you get too
carried away with this food business."

"My taste buds have not died," he indignantly
said.

Liliana laughed. "It seems so sad that you
don't have anyone with whom to share the meal."

"Ah! I have a guest coming. One that needs
the nourishment of a meal."

Sade knew Liliana would understand this to
mean a non-vampire.

"Where did you meet him?"

"He's someone who offered to do my
taxes."

"And will he get the chance?"

He leaned in close to Liliana and whispered,
"I hope not."

"Then I'm glad I will not be here."

"Pourquoi ne te joindrais tu pas a
nous?"
asked Sade.

"I can't join you for dinner because I've
already promised Grandmother that I'd eat with her and her guests
tonight."

"Mais non!"

"I'm sorry, Uncle, but I didn't know that you
were planning a special meal, and knowing how these meals usually
end, I'm glad I will not be here."

"Mais non!"
Sade glanced over at
Matilda and her daughter. Neither appeared to be listening, but
Sade knew servants had big ears. "Come into the dining room and see
how well Matilda set the table."

They moved into the dining room together.

"The spoons are out of place!" Quickly he
redid the silverware settings.

"It does look beautiful, especially the
lilies in the centerpiece."

"I promise this night will not end in my
taking anyone's life. Several days ago I took my fill." He recalled
the sensual pleasure he had taken while beating and sodomizing the
willing Evie. Her blood had tasted of herbs and spices.
A
vegetarian, most probably.
He had feasted until he sucked her
dry.

"Then who is this person who thinks he's
doing your taxes? And why did you invite him?" Liliana folded her
arms and waited for an answer.

"Ma chérie,
you look lovely in that
silk dress. Crossing your arms will only cause creases to
form."

"He's meant for me. Isn't he?"

"A dalliance. A brief touch with the male
gender in a social situation."

"I have enough touches from you, Uncle."
Liliana raised her voice. "I refuse to pander to your every
whim."

"Quiet," he whispered. "The servants will
think--"

"Uncle! Stop calling them servants. Matilda
is a housekeeper, and Cecelia just comes here to help out her
mother, not to wait on you."

"By extension, Cecelia waits on me."

"I'm going upstairs, getting my bag, and then
leaving for Grandmother's."

"When will you return?"

"Don't bother keeping him here, because I may
stay over at Grandmother's."

"You never like to stay there. Her work
disgusts you."

"But she makes no demands on me."

"Your..." Sade remembered the mother and
daughter in the kitchen. He moved closer to Liliana. "Your coffin
is here with your home soil."

"I'll rest when I return in the morning."

"Ah! Then you will be back."

"Good Lord! You intend to keep him here until
I get back, no matter when that may be."

"Oui."

"Mr. Sade, I've added more tarragon to the
mushrooms. Would you like to try one?" Matilda stood in the
doorway.

"Don't follow through on your plan, Uncle.
One of these days you will lose me completely if you continue this
pressure."

Sade watched his niece walk away. Finally he
looked over his shoulder and found that Matilda waited for an
answer.

"Children." He sighed and watched a rare look
of sympathy appear in Matilda's eyes.

Chapter 20

Grandmother baked delicious breads and
pastries. Her preserves could even make a vampire's mouth water.
But Uncle Donatien was right about the rest of her cooking.
Quelle tragedie!

However, it didn't seem to bother her male
dinner companions who wolfed down large portions of everything.
Liliana simply pushed the mashed potatoes and asparagus around the
overcooked garlic lamb. Meanwhile, Grandmother never touched the
meal. Blood lust had shined in Grandmother's eyes all evening,
making Liliana feel out of place, especially since the young
Bridgewater seemed more interested in her than in Grandmother.

"Are you currently in school, Liliana?" Wil
asked.

"She's an embalmer," her grandmother
answered.

"You're way to young to be working at that
kind of job."

"She's older than she looks." The fingers of
Grandmother's right-hand started performing a tattoo on the dining
table.

Liliana didn't want to leave and go back to
her uncle and the poor, unsuspecting fool he had invited to be her
dinner. However, her relations with her grandmother were being
severely strained.

The older Bridgewater knocked over a water
glass while reaching for the sliced meat.

"Liliana, dear, could you run and fetch
something to dry up the table?" her grandmother asked.

Immediately Liliana left the room, but she
felt Wil's stare follow her. Not what her grandmother had wanted,
she was sure.

In the kitchen Liliana wasted a few minutes
collecting a bunch of paper towels. If she left right after dinner,
her grandmother would be relieved and Uncle Donatien would be
elated. Liliana did not permit herself friends, for she feared the
hunger might take control one day. She could drive around, but the
bright headlights hurt her sensitive eyes. She, like her uncle and
grandmother, had to use sunglasses night and day while driving.
Mingling at the single's bars would be just asking for trouble for
some poor guy.

"Do you need help?"

Wil had joined her in the kitchen.

"My grandmother..."

"I thought I'd give the old folks some time
alone."

Just what Grandmother wouldn't want.

"You have very pretty eyes, Liliana. And your
skin is so translucent." Wil reached out to touch one of her
cheeks, and she backed away. "The paleness of your complexion makes
you look delightfully delicate. Any man would like to reach out to
hold you and protect you. Would you mind if I gave you a hug?"

"Yes, I would."

Liliana attempted to walk by Wil, but he
grabbed her left elbow.

"Don't misunderstand me, Liliana. I feel a
strong attraction to you, but would never act upon it unless
encouraged
to do so."

"Have I encouraged, Wil?"

"You've been very polite."

"I hope politeness in your world isn't taken
to mean 'easy mark.'"

He smiled. "It's taken as a maybe." He
allowed her to walk past.

"Thank God you're back with some paper
towels. We've been swimming here while waiting for you."

Liliana noticed that her grandmother glanced
at her briefly, then settled her gaze on Wil. "What were the two of
you doing so long in the kitchen? It's sort of like one of those
jokes. You know. 'How many people does it take to retrieve a paper
towel?'"

Liliana spread the paper towels over the
water stain. The white linen tablecloth already had soaked up the
water.

"Would you like more water, Mr. Bridgewater?"
Liliana asked.

"Another beer would be better."

"I'll get it for him," called Wil on his way
back to the kitchen.

"Grandmother, I think I'm coming down with
something. It may just be a bad cold, but..."

"I understand if you must go, dear. Perhaps
Keith could take you home."

"I'll take her home," said Wil as he put a
beer in front of his father.

"It's your father's car, Wil. I should think
he'd want to drive," said Grandmother.

"Lately I've been driving the car more than
Dad."

"Actually, I drove myself here, and I'm sure
I can drive myself back home," Liliana said.

"Not if you're ill," Wil protested.

"Wil, if my granddaughter says she can drive
herself, then she can."

"Maybe I ought to follow you a ways. My
stomach doesn't feel too good, so I should be leaving also." Keith
groaned.

"If Dad's going, then I guess I am."

"Why?" Grandmother's voice sounded too
high-pitched.

"Because I drove Dad here, and if he needs to
get home..."

"Son, I'm not going to stand around and
argue. Before it got settled I probably would have barfed all over
this woman's table."

"Your father is so eloquent. However, I would
like to speak to you alone, Wil. I can always drive you home
later." Grandmother's eyes glittered with hunger.

"I don't feel up to driving," Keith solemnly
said.

Liliana noticed the father's color was just a
shade lighter than bile green.

"Grandmother, why don't I take Keith home,
and Wil can use his own car when he wants to leave."

"Good idea." Keith burped.

* * *

In Liliana's Saab, Keith didn't look any
better than when he had been seated at the dinner table.

"Your granny is a strange lady."

Liliana remained quiet.

"She's a powerful lady, too. You know, she
knocked me down one night because I got in between her and my
son."

"I'm sure it was an accident."

"No. But the thing that gets me isn't the
fact that she hit me. No. It's the power to her punch. It's not a
lady-like punch."

Liliana couldn't keep herself from
smiling.

"I'm serious. There's something about her.
It's something supernatural."

"Supernatural?"

"Yeah. Not only does she pack a powerful
wallop for a woman, she's also mighty strong for a man. And I don't
think it's just getting laid that's she's after. Excuse me for
talking like this about your granny, but I thought you could give
me some insight into where she's coming from."

"The family doesn't know what to expect of
her next."

"And the family consists of..."

"Just my uncle, myself, and Grandmother."

"Never met your uncle."

"It's better that way."

"He and your granny are related by
blood?"

"Yes and no."

"That's ambiguous."

"Are we almost to your house, Mr.
Bridgewater?"

"How come you have no interest in my son? He
was certainly trying hard to get into your--impress you."

"All we need are the spotlights, and this
would definitely be an interrogation."

"I'm an old man that doesn't have many
interests and no friends to speak of. Certainly not your granny."
Keith shook his head. "She is a really weird lady. What was her
husband like?"

"She hasn't been married for years, Mr.
Bridgewater, and I barely remember him."

"You were that young when he died?"

"No. He was that busy."

"So she had to make it on her own most of the
time."

"Mr. Bridgewater, were you a psych major in
school?"

"Never went to college. Went to work right
after high school. Matter of fact, I started my job the day after I
graduated. Didn't meet Wil's mother until years later. Played the
field for a long time." Keith laughed in remembrance.

"There seems to be a fork in the road. Which
way do I go?"

"Go left."

Keith remained silent for a long time, and
Liliana left him alone with his memories.

"Make a right here."

"But, Mr. Bridgewater, this is a
cemetery."

Liliana turned onto a gravel road. A plain
iron gate stood before the car. The doors of the gate seemed to be
haphazardly closed.

"I'll open the gate." With effort Keith got
out of the car and walked up to the rusted latch on the gate. The
latch squeaked as it gave up its security. Keith opened the gates
and came back to the car.

"Why are we stopping here, Mr.
Bridgewater?"

"I want you to meet Emmeline."

"Your dead wife?"

"She lives here."

And he thinks my grandmother's odd.

She drove slowly into the cemetery. Weeds had
started to fill in gaps in the loosely packed gravel. The
surrounding trees cut off the view of the public road.

"Just up ahead and to your right."

Liliana followed the instruction. She arrived
at a sort of
cul-de-sac
of tombstones and stopped.

Keith got out of the car, and Liliana
wondered whether she should follow or allow him time alone with his
wife. Just when she decided to stay in the Saab, Keith beckoned to
her. High heels were not the best shoes to wear on gravel, she
decided as she limped along.

Keith took off his white shirt and started
dusting a tombstone.

"Haven't been here in a while. I like to
shine it up when I visit. Usually I even bring a bottle of spray
detergent."

His pot belly hung over the belt of his
trousers. Several moles spattered his back. One particularly large
mole looked injured, as if it had been scratched or were possibly
seething with a disease Keith didn't know about.

"We were together for fifteen years. Did
everything together. You know, through that fifteen years we never
spent a night apart. I couldn't sleep unless her little round
bottom was smack up against my big bottom."

Keith looked around.

"You have anyone buried here?"

"No family. Only a few acquaintances of my
uncle."