Tall, Dark & Hungry (9 page)

Terri sighed and shifted on the bed, and Bastien smiled; then he blinked in surprise as a loud snore ripped through the room. He stared at her aghast, covering his mouth to stifle the laughter that threatened to spill out. He backed quickly out of the room.

Well, Bastien thought as he pulled the door closed, no one was perfect. Chuckling openly, he walked back to the living room and took Terri's spot on the couch. It was still warm from her body, and he enjoyed the sensation before reaching for the food bag.

"What about
him?"
Vincent gestured to the sleeping editor as Bastien peered curiously into the bag of Subs.

"What about him?" Bastien pulled out one of the packages of barbecue chips and struggled with it briefly before managing to get it open.

"He'll get a crick in his neck, too, if you don't put him to bed," Vincent pointed out.

Bastien shrugged. Peering inside the bag, he saw thin slices of cooked potato with a sprinkling of red seasoning. "So, he gets a crick. He should have taken himself to bed."

Vincent chuckled, then gaped as Bastien took one chip out and bit cautiously into it. "What are you doing?"

"Trying the potato chips," he stated as he chewed the brittle delectation and pushed it around inside his mouth so that he could get the full flavor. It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. He didn't remember there being anything like this the last time he'd bothered with food.

"Dear God," his cousin breathed.

"What?" Bastien peered over in question.

"You're eating." Vincent stared in amazement, then added, "Food. You must be in love."

Bastien swallowed, and gave a bark of laughter. "Being in love isn't like being pregnant, Vincent. We don't eat when we're in love."

"Every one of us I know that has fallen in love has started eating again," his cousin said grimly.

Bastien considered as he swallowed, then popped another chip into his mouth. Lissianna had eaten. He wasn't sure about Etienne, but he knew Lucern was eating again. His chewing slowed, but then he shook his head and forced himself to relax. He'd only met the woman today. He couldn't be in love. Deeply in like, maybe, but not in love. And two chips did not really translate to "eating"—at least, not in his book.

"Speaking of food, when is the last time you
really
fed?"

There was no hiding his start of surprise at the question. Bastien knew Vincent wasn't referring to hunting, but simply to ingesting blood. And much to his amazement, Bastien suddenly realized that he hadn't done so since early that morning. He'd started to feel the need for blood while waiting at the airport for Terri's plane to arrive, but he hadn't thought of it since she hugged him. He'd been too distracted by everything else that was going on. Bastien refused to even think that his distraction was solely due to Terri's arrival. A lot had happened since then: Vincent's being here, the housekeeper quitting, Kate's arrival with her coworker, then leaving with Lucern. Lots, he assured himself.

Unfortunately that didn't explain why, now that things had settled down, he still wasn't feeling any particular desire for blood. Perhaps he just needed to see or actually smell the substance to stir his appetite. No doubt, once he went to his room and retrieved a bag of blood from the refrigerator built into his bed, he'd have his hunger back.

Bastien closed the chip bag, stuck it back with the rest of the food, and stood to carry it all to the kitchen. It was as he put the bag in the empty fridge that he recalled Terri stating the kitchen was empty of anything but a teapot, one cup, and tea bags. He closed the fridge door and opened a cupboard or two. Mrs. Houlihan had had her own small apartment in the back of the penthouse with a kitchen and everything, and he didn't doubt for a minute that those cupboards were full of food and dishes and whatever else outfitted a good kitchen. This one, however, was completely bare.

He should really see that it was filled up, Bastien decided. As it was, there was nothing to give Terri in the morning but tea. And cold subs, he supposed, closing the kitchen cupboards and tugging his notepad from his pocket.

He made a notation as he left the room and started up the hall to the master suite. He would put his secretary on to this task, too—when he called the office on Monday about Mrs. Houlihan, and about his taking some time off. She'd hire whoever was necessary and see that his cupboards and fridge were well stocked by the time they got back from the museum that day. In the meantime, he'd just have to take Terri out to eat. It wouldn't be a problem, as there were tons of restaurants in New York.

"Whistling and smiling too. Also signs of a man in love."

Bastien glanced around and found Vincent leaning nonchalantly against the door to Lucern's room. His cousin stood, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with taunting amusement.

"I wasn't whistling."

"Yes, you were."

Bastien didn't bother denying it again. In truth, he
might
have been whistling as he walked up the hall; he wasn't sure. If so, it had been an unconscious act. He kind of thought he might have been smiling. It
was
possible. He had been feeling happy, after all; but he couldn't have been doing both. "Nobody can smile and whistle at the same time," he argued.

"You started up the hall smiling, then began to whistle about halfway along. You were also jingling the change in your pocket," Vincent informed him. "A classic happy-go-lucky, man-in-love action."

"How the hell would you know?" Bastien asked with irritation.

"I'm an actor," Vincent said with a shrug. "Knowing the outward signs of emotion is my business. I can't act like a man in love if I don't know what a man in love acts like. And you, my dear cousin, are showing all the classic first signs of a man falling in love."

"I just met her today," Bastien protested.

"Hmm. Love's a funny thing and often hits hard and fast. As you well know," Vincent said solemnly. "Besides, I said falling in love—not already there."

On that note, he turned and entered Lucern's bedroom, leaving Bastien alone in the hall. He'd been referring to Josephine when he said "As you well know." Vincent and Bastien had been close friends at the time he'd met and fallen in love with her. Vinny had witnessed Bastien's pain as Josephine had rejected him and called him a monster. Until then, Bastien had enjoyed the social whirl and the wild times the human world had to offer. It was after she broke his heart that he'd lost interest in it all and immersed himself in the family business. He had worked hard at accumulating money ever since. Money was the cornerstone of life; it never let you down or judged you; and money never said no.

Unfortunately, his close friendship with Vincent had been one of the things Bastien had let fall by the wayside in his determined drive to bury himself in the demands of business. He hadn't really noticed its absence until this evening. His cousin's teasing and cajolery tonight had reminded him of what he had been missing these last three hundred years or so. He'd been missing a lot. It was time to make up for it, but cautiously. Bastien had no desire to get his heart broken again.

Chapter Five

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"Isn't it a beautiful day?" Terri asked, sucking in a deep breath of the fetid New York air as if it were an elixir.

Bastien nodded in agreement, even managing not to grimace. "Beautiful."

"The sun is shining. Birds are singing. I love springtime."

She sounded like a Disney character, he thought with irritation. Next she'd break out in song. An ode to the sun.

"Sun." Bastien muttered the word as if it were a curse. How could he have forgotten about the sun? He was a bloody vampire! And yet he'd made plans and invited Terri on an outing where he would spend the day wandering outside. And sunlight was in huge supply. It was a beautiful spring day, an uncharacteristically hot and
sunny
spring day. Bastien wouldn't even be surprised to hear that there were people sunbathing all over the city, their skin being eaten alive by the sun's rays. As was his. The only difference was that his body was working in overdrive to continuously repair and replenish itself. Were he like others, his skin would just be aging by the minute. Instead, his body was dehydrating by the second.

On top of that, while Bastien had intended on packing a cooler full of blood to bring with him on this trip, he, the details man, had forgotten to do so. Not that this really made much difference, he supposed. He could hardly have walked around, bag of blood in hand as casually as others carried bottled water. Bastien had imagined he would just slip away every once in a while to replenish the much-needed liquid he was using at such an accelerated rate, but now that he was here, he saw how difficult that would be. He would have been reluctant to leave Terri alone in the neighborhood they were presently in.

"Bastien?" Terri asked, calling him back from his thoughts. "Are you going to stand at this table all day?"

He grimaced. This table at this particular flea market had a canvas awning, and he had been standing under it for several minutes. It was the only booth that did have one, but he couldn't stand here forever. He'd have to brave the sun again sooner or later, if only to go home. And he supposed that would be the smartest thing to do, but he really, really didn't want to end this outing so prematurely.

Bastien had woken up at six o'clock this morning and hopped eagerly in the shower, his mind on the day ahead. He'd found himself whistling as he showered and dressed, then made his way out to the living room to find Chris Keyes still on the couch, but awake and looking rumpled and miserable. It seemed the editor had suffered a fitful night on the sofa, waking and dozing off, then waking again, unable to do anything else since he didn't know which room he was supposed to have and would have had trouble getting there on his own anyway.

Bastien had listened with little interest to the man ramble about his rough night, until he heard mention that Terri was fetching a glass of water from the kitchen so that he might take another painkiller. Leaving the editor alone in the living room, he'd immediately headed to the kitchen. There Terri was rinsing out the cup she'd fetched water in the night before. While she'd run fresh water into it, Bastien had asked her about attending a couple of flea markets with him, surprised at how nervous he felt. It wasn't until she'd turned bright, interested eyes on him and told him she'd love to go that he'd felt himself relax.

Assuring her that he'd take her out to breakfast before they went anywhere, Bastien excused himself. He rode the elevator down to the floor holding the Argeneau offices, and quickly wrote up a list of instructions for his secretary to find when she arrived on Monday. He hadn't wanted to forget to have her take care of finding out if there were any relatives that Mrs. Houlihan might have gone to in the city, or to arrange for his kitchen to be stocked, and to have her cancel any business meetings scheduled for the next week. After setting the note on her desk, he'd returned to the penthouse to be informed by a sighing Chris Keyes that Terri had gone to her room to shower and change.

Bastien had been in such a good mood as he contemplated the day ahead, he'd taken pity on the editor and helped him to the room between the one Vincent was occupying and the one Terri was in. He'd even seen the man into the bathroom, waited patiently outside while he saw to his needs, then helped him out and onto the bed. He'd handed Chris the remote control to the television on the console against the wall opposite the bed, and promised he'd have someone deliver him a meal. Then Bastien fetched the gym bag full of clothes he'd gotten the night before and set it on the bed beside him, where it was within easy reach if the editor needed it.

Having done all that he could for Chris at the moment—or all he was willing to do—he'd gone out to the living room and found Terri dressed and ready to go. All other thoughts had been wiped from his mind at the sight of her happy excited face; and when she'd asked if they were taking a real New York cab and if they were, if she could flag it down like she'd seen done on TV, Bastien had said yes. Her excitement and pleasure as they had headed out and ridden downtown in the taxi she flagged had carried him along right up until they'd stepped out of the cab and he'd become aware of the sun beating cheerfully down on him. It was then Bastien had realized he'd forgotten the blood. He could not believe that he had been so remiss. He was an idiot! And that idiocy was about to see him ruin the day. He could not continue to walk around in this heat with the sun killing him.

Perhaps it would help if he bought a big floppy hat and a long-sleeved shirt from one of the booths or something. Bastien grimaced. He might as well buy a clown nose and floppy shoes, too. This day wasn't going at all as he'd hoped.

"Bastien?" Terri was suddenly at his side, concern on her face. "You look a bit… ill. Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, I—It's just the heat and sun," he said finally. He wasn't surprised he looked sick. They had been outside for two hours, and he was really starting to feel it.

"I think I could use a break," he admitted, and sighed inwardly at the concern on her face. Now she'd think he was some pitifully weak guy who couldn't handle a little walking.

"If you like." She frowned. "You really aren't feeling well, are you?"

"No, I just—" He sighed. "I forgot about the sun. I have a bit of an allergy to it."

"Oh!" She looked relieved. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

"I forgot," Bastien said. Then he realized how stupid that sounded. He'd hardly forget he was allergic to the sun. Then inspiration struck, and he added, "It's not really a regular thing for me. I'm just on some medication that makes me photosensitive."

"Oh." Something flickered in Terri's expression before her gaze slid over him with concern. "My husband was on medication that did that to him."

"It's nothing serious," Bastien assured her. "But the medication does make me react to sunlight, and I didn't think of that until I got out here and—What are you doing?" he interrupted himself to ask as she pulled him from the shade and started to drag him along the street.