The Undead Next Door (23 page)

Read The Undead Next Door Online

Authors: Kerrelyn Sparks

Tags: #Humor, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Adult, #Vampire, #Urban Fantasy

BOOK: The Undead Next Door
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“I need to talk to you.” She rose to her feet and moved away, obviously so they could have some privacy. She didn’t know yet that it was unnecessary, for Vamps had super hearing. “How could you let him do something so dangerous?”

“I objected,” Jean-Luc answered quietly. “But in the end, I couldn’t force him to abstain. It was his decision.”

“But he may have killed himself just so he can have a chance at true love.” Heather wiped her eyes. “It’s sad.”

“An honorable man will sacrifice all for true love.”

She glanced at him, her eyes widening.

“When Roman took the drug, he was late to wake, too.” Jean-Luc turned to watch Ian. “I believe he will wake.”

A silence fell between them as they waited.

Robby turned to Phineas. “Go see if Fidelia and the wee lass are all right. We’ll let ye know what happens here.”

“All right.” Phineas trudged out of the room.

“And ye’re off the clock, lad,” Robby murmured to Phil. “Ye doona need to stay.”

“Yeah, I do.” Phil folded his arms across his chest.

Heather drew a deep breath. “We got the boxes of stuff you ordered.”

Jean-Luc faced her. “Did you like the dress?”

“It’s lovely.” She avoided looking at him. “But I can’t keep it.”

“Why not?” Was she punishing him?

“I don’t want to be…beholden to you. You’ve already given me a great job and a safe place to stay.”

“You saved my life, Heather. I am beholden to you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could have handled Louie on your own.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “You’re the European fencing champion, remember?”

“But I didn’t have a sword, remember?”

Scowling, she turned to face him. “I’m quite sure you could have defeated him without my help. You’re…muy macho, as Fidelia would put it.”

“Merci. Though you needn’t look so annoyed by it.”

She crossed her arms. “I still can’t keep the dress or the other…stuff.”

He stepped closer. “You mean the bras?”

“There was more than one?”

“Three bras, three panties.” He raked his gaze over her body. “I was very careful to get the right size.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “They’re going back.”

“No, they’re not.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he continued, “Because of me, you and your family are in danger. Because of me, your house was ruined. Most likely everything in your house has sustained smoke damage and will need to be replaced. I have cost you a fortune. The few things I purchased don’t begin to repay you. It is I who is in debt to you.”

She gave a sigh of defeat. “All right. Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t like to think he’d caused the dark smudges under her eyes.

“I’m very tired. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I apologize for the way you learned the truth. I should have told you earlier.”

She slid her hands into her jeans pockets and regarded the floor. “Why didn’t you?”

He closed his eyes briefly, wondering how to explain. “I was…beguiled by the way you looked at me and talked to me. As if I was normal. It was like being human again, with a home and family and a beautiful woman who actually found me attractive. I—I never had that when I was mortal.”

“You never had women throwing themselves at you? That’s hard to believe.”

“I never had a home and family.” He stepped closer to her. “It’s taken me a long time to realize that’s what I want more than anything.”

She looked away, but he caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

“Will you allow me the honor of courting you?”

She gave a short nervous laugh. “You sound so old-fashioned.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled wryly. “But I’m also very determined.”

“I—I don’t belong in your world.”

“You can belong anywhere you want.”

She rubbed her brow. “That’s the problem. I don’t want to belong there. But I don’t want to hurt you. I—”

Ian jolted, and his chest heaved with a big breath.

“He’s alive!” Robby exclaimed with a grin.

“Yes!” Phil punched the air with a fist.

Jean-Luc grinned. “Thank God.”

“Oh, yes, yes!” Heather bounced up and down. “Yes!” She flung her arms around Jean-Luc’s neck.

His heart swelled as he enveloped her in his arms. “Yes.”

With a gasp, she pulled back. “Oh, I didn’t mean—sorry. I was just so happy, I forgot…”

“That I was a monster?” he finished her sentence.

Her cheeks stained pink. “I don’t think—”

“What happened?” Ian sat up.

“Ye’ve been sleeping on the job.” Robby crossed his arms, frowning. “I should dock yer pay.”

Ian glanced around with a confused look. “I’m…late?”

Robby laughed and extended a hand to help him up. “Ye had us worried, lad. How are ye feeling?”

Ian grabbed Robby’s hand and slowly eased to his feet. “I’m all right, I think.”

“You’re at least an inch taller,” Phil announced.

“I am?” Ian grinned. “It worked! I’m a year older. And I’m bloody well starving.”

“Go downstairs and have yer breakfast,” Robby ordered.

“I wish you wouldn’t take the drug again,” Heather said. “You were in so much pain.”

“I’m sorry ye had to see it,” Ian told her. “But I willna stop.” He and Phil strode from the room.

“I’ll leave ye two alone.” Robby bowed and left the room.

“I should be going, too.” Heather started for the door.

“What about your work?” Jean-Luc asked.

“Oh.” She turned. “I finished the first gown.” She motioned toward the dress form.

He walked toward it. “You decided not to do sleeves after all.”

“No.” She moved closer. “They were interfering with the fit of the bodice. So I thought I’d make a matching stole that can be draped like a scarf or worn like a shawl.”

He nodded. “Good idea.”

“I’ve been wondering—” She bit her bottom lip. “Who does the handwork on your designs?”

“Different women from France and Belgium, depending on what I need done. There’s a woman in Brussels who makes the best lace, and another one in Brittany who does the most beautiful embroidery.”

“Oh.”

Had she suspected him of running a sweatshop somewhere? “I consider them artists and pay them very well. I could take you to see them, if you’d like to see their work.”

“I—I don’t think so.” She backed away. “I should be going. I’m really tired.”

He nodded. “You put in a long day.”

“Yes. Good night.” She practically ran from the room.

Jean-Luc sighed. She’d refused to let him court her. She still seemed a little afraid, but at least she no longer looked disgusted. He was making progress, but it was very slow.

He walked down the hall to Alberto’s office and discussed the charity event. Then he teleported to his office to catch up on business. There were more than a hundred e-mails and a dozen reports from Paris to respond to. He was also coven master of Western Europe, so there were a few disputes to settle. He took a small break after midnight, downing another glass of synthetic blood from the stash he kept in his office.

It was after two in the morning when the alarm went off. Jean-Luc grabbed his sword, zoomed to Heather’s bedroom, and flung open the door. They were in bed asleep. The alarm hadn’t wakened them, for it was set at a frequency only vampires and dogs could hear. The alarm meant one thing—a vampire had teleported into the building.

He strode to the bathroom and checked inside. It was empty.

“What’s wrong?” Heather asked sleepily.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Just making sure you’re all right. Go back to sleep.”

He spotted Robby in the hallway, so he zoomed into the hall and shut the door partway. “What happened?”

“It was Simone,” Robby explained. “She claims she was bored, so she went out.”

“Where did she go?”

“She wouldna say,” Robby replied. “She teleported out with no one noticing, but when she came back, she triggered the alarm.”

Jean-Luc recalled how Simone had boasted that she might have an affair with Lui. “She could be compromised.”

“I know. Shall I send her away?”

“No. We want Lui to make his move so we can catch him.”

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Robby zipped down the stairs.

Heather peered through the half-opened door. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s fine,” Jean-Luc assured her.

She stepped into the hallway. “I heard you talking. You think Simone could be under Louie’s control?”

“It’s possible. He usually uses mortals, but he could manage to control a vampire, especially if she has a grudge.”

“Like Simone.” Heather frowned. “This mind control—you never used it on me, did you?”

He stiffened. “No, that would be dishonorable.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you.”

His gaze wandered over her wonderfully mussed hair and rumpled pajamas. “If you were under my control, you would be downstairs right now in my bed.”

“Oh.”

“And you would be naked. And I would be—”

“All right! I get the picture.”

He smiled slowly. “Was it good for you?”

She gave him an annoyed look.

“You look beautiful.”

She snorted. “I don’t have any makeup on.”

“You’re a natural beauty.”

“It’ll be short-lived. I’ll get old and wrinkly.”

“Time doesn’t scare me.” He stepped closer. “Let me court you.”

She gave him an odd look, as if wariness and desire were battling inside her. “I’ll think about it.” She eased into the bedroom and shut the door.

Yes, he was slowly making progress.

Chapter 23

Heather was looking for something to hate about Jean-Luc. His vampire status no longer seemed a good enough reason to reject him. All the Vamps in the house were drinking their meals from bottles. All the male Vamps were well-mannered and considerate. Simone and Inga appeared selfish and vain, but Heather strongly suspected they’d been that way before acquiring fangs.

Fidelia confirmed the theory that death didn’t change a person’s character. She’d seen proof of that through her experience with helping lost spirits. So Heather could no longer avoid the truth. Jean-Luc was just as gorgeous, intelligent, and honorable as he’d been as a mortal.

His sense of honor carried over into the way he conducted business. There were no sweatshops, no employees being abused in the pursuit of wealth. Phil confided in her that Jean-Luc was taking care of Pierre’s family. He was a good man. If he had been mortal, Heather knew she wouldn’t hesitate to pursue a relationship with him. She wouldn’t be constantly denying her feelings for him. So the real question was, could she accept him and love him as he was?

Thursday was a peaceful day until suppertime, when Ian suffered another attack. Fidelia immediately whisked Bethany off to the kitchen, so the little girl wouldn’t have to witness Ian’s torment. Heather hated seeing him suffer and begged him to take some painkillers, but he stoically refused. After a half hour of twitching and sweating, he finally fell into a peaceful death-sleep.

Heather finished the stole for the first gown and proceeded to the pattern-making stage for the second outfit. As time went by, she found herself looking forward to seeing Jean-Luc again.

He showed up about eight-thirty, as handsome as ever. Her breath caught, just looking at him. I know you love me. God help her, was he right? What else could explain how she was drawn to him even when she knew the truth about him?

He looked over her work while they waited for Ian to wake up. Ian woke and stumbled to his feet to see if he’d grown. Heather handed Robby a measuring tape.

“Congratulations, ye’re now six feet tall,” Robby announced. “And ye need to shave.”

Ian grinned, rubbing the whiskers on his jaw.

“We should have some Blissky to celebrate,” Phineas suggested.

Ian laughed. “Ye’re always looking for a reason to have some Blissky.”

“I have a bottle in the security office,” Robby said. “Let’s go.”

The three male Vamps sauntered off, leaving Heather alone with Jean-Luc.

“What’s Blissky?” she asked.

“A mixture of synthetic blood and Scottish whisky,” Jean-Luc explained. “Roman has made our meals much more interesting with his Vampire Fusion Cuisine.”

Heather made a face. “Are you kidding me?”

“No. We now have Chocolood, blood with chocolate, a favorite among the lady Vamps, and Bubbly Blood, blood with champagne for those special vampire occasions.”

Heather laughed. “What would that be? Moving into a new, improved coffin?”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Now you’re mocking me. You know exactly where I sleep, and it’s not a coffin.”

Her face warmed with the memory of his bed.

“Would you like to see what I’ve been working on? It’s in my office.”

She hesitated, not knowing if she was ready to be alone with him behind closed doors.

His smile faded. “I would never harm you, chérie. I would do anything to protect you from harm.”

Anything but stop her from falling in love with him. And that might cause her great pain sometime in the future. She sighed. Love never came with a guarantee. It was always a leap of faith. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to take that leap.

Was she letting fear rule her life again? Sometimes caution was the wise choice. Then again, too much caution could be really boring and…sad. What if she spent the rest of her life regretting her cautious wisdom?

She took a deep breath. “I can stop by for a few minutes.”

“Good.” He walked slowly toward the door, waiting for her to accompany him. He made no attempt to touch her, and she was grateful for that. He seemed to understand that she needed time. And she needed answers.

“Why did you come to Texas?” she asked as they started down the hallway.

“I needed to disappear. The media was questioning why I never grew older.”

“So you’re in hiding?”

He nodded. “For twenty-five years. Then I can return to Paris, posing as my son.”

She wanted to ask if he ever considered having a real son, but she lost her nerve. “So you’re going to be in Schnitzelberg for a while.” How could she go back to her normal life, knowing that a vampire who loved her lived right down the highway?

“I can still go places. I just have to be careful. I can’t afford to be spotted by the media.”

“How on earth do you travel?” She paused as they entered the showroom. “Don’t tell me—you’re stashed in a coffin in the cargo bay of a 747.”

He winced. “That would be awful. Travel is actually very easy for us. We just teleport.”

“Teleport? Nobody teleports, except in sci-fi shows.”

“Vampires teleport.”

She gazed around the showroom, speechless. She turned back to Jean-Luc, and he vanished.

She gasped. “Jean-Luc?”

“Yes.”

She jumped and spun around. He was behind her. “Oh. That was too sneaky.”

“It comes in very handy. That’s how my guards were able to bring your daughter’s toys here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You could teleport into my bedroom whenever you like, even with the door locked?”

“Yes. But don’t forget—I’m an honorable man.”

She winced with a sudden thought. “Then Louie could teleport here. He could go straight to my bedroom—”

“Heather,” he interrupted her, touching her shoulder. “An alarm goes off the second anyone teleports into the building. It went off last night when Simone returned.”

“Oh. So that’s why you barged into my bedroom.”

“Yes.”

He really was protecting her. “I appreciate how hard all of you are working to keep us safe.”

He smiled. “When this is all over, I think we should go on a date.”

“You mean dinner and a movie?” She scoffed. “I’m not volunteering to be dinner.”

He chuckled. “No, but I could take you somewhere out of the public eye, like Angus’s castle in Scotland or Roman’s villa in Tuscany.”

What a rascal. He was dangling a carrot that she found hard to resist. She’d always longed to travel.

“I have Vamp friends all over the world who would welcome us,” Jean-Luc continued. “We just have to be sure that I’m not recognized. Or that the sun hasn’t risen.”

“You mean you would take me with you when you teleport?”

“Yes. It’s quite simple, really.”

She snorted. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re talking about turning me into some kind of…vapor, then hoping I materialize with my head on straight.”

“It’s perfectly safe.”

“It doesn’t sound safe.”

He tilted his head, considering her. “I’ll show you how it works now, then you won’t have to worry about it.”

She stepped back. “I’m okay with worrying. I’m really quite good at worrying.”

“We’ll just go to my office.” He pointed to the second-floor window that overlooked the showroom. “And then later, when I take you on a longer trip, you won’t be afraid.”

Good Lord, he was so enticing. “I might agree to a date sometime in the future. But that doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to that courtship idea of yours.”

“Fine. We’ll do a practice run now.” He moved closer.

Her heart lurched. Oh God, she’d agreed to teleport.

He placed his hands lightly around her waist. “There are a few things you must do for it to work.”

“Like what?”

“Put your arms around my neck and hold tight.”

She slowly moved her hands up to his neck. “What now?”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Now you kiss me.”

She scoffed. “They never did that on Star Trek.”

“Their loss.”

“What if you’re teleporting alone or with a guy?”

He winced. “All right. I lied.” He gave her a rueful smile. “But you can’t blame me for trying.”

She swatted his shoulder.

He chuckled. “You do have to hold me tight, though.”

The room began to waver, and Heather grabbed his neck for dear life.

“Trust me.” His soft words whispered in her ear just before everything went black.

She felt a floating sensation, then a solid floor beneath her feet. She opened her eyes. She was in a large office. “That was spooky.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

She stepped back, and he released her. She wandered around the office, noting the two leather wingback chairs, the desk, computer, and file cabinets. She stopped by a worktable that was strewn with beautiful fabric in shades of green and blue. A pile of peacock feathers begged to be touched. She stroked the soft fronds.

“I knew you would have to touch,” he spoke quietly behind her. “You like texture.”

Her skin prickled with goose bumps. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been watching you.” He moved close beside her. “You like the smoothness of silk against your bare skin. You like to touch chenille and velvet.” He picked up a peacock feather. “This reminded me of you. It holds all the different shades of green and turquoise that I see in your eyes. They change slightly when you’re smiling or frowning or…climaxing.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “Your eyes change, too.”

He smiled and handed her a stack of sketches. “What do you think?”

She looked them over. He was so talented. He managed to draw on centuries of fashion experience and create something both classic and new. “They’re beautiful.”

“So is my inspiration.” He stroked the edge of the feather down the side of her face and down her neck.

She dropped the sketches and paced toward the window. She gazed down at the mannequins, stark white in the dark showroom. “I need to know more about you.”

“What do you wish to know?”

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass. “Everything. You know everything about me.”

He sighed. “There’s not much to tell. I was born a poor peasant, the son of Jean who cleaned out the stable. I don’t recall a family name.”

She turned to face him. “What about Echarpe?”

“I acquired that name after I was transformed. Some Vamps gave it to me as a jest. After women…encountered me, they would wear a scarf to hide the marks.” He shrugged. “Echarpe means ‘scarf.’”

She winced. “A sad joke.”

“Much of my life has been a sad joke. I have…fought to be where I am today.”

She could relate to that. “Is it true what you said the other night—that your mother died when you were young?”

Frowning, he sat in one of the wingback chairs. “Both my parents died. I was orphaned by the age of six. The baron allowed me to sleep in the stable and take over my father’s duties.”

Heather huffed. “Well, that was kind of him.”

“It was better than being homeless.”

She walked toward him, stopping at the desk. “Go on.”

“The baron was a seasoned warrior, and he had several wards living at the chateau with his son. He was training them all for knighthood. I would hide behind barrels to watch. Then I practiced at night in the stable with a staff.”

She nodded. “I bet you were good.”

“The baron’s son was a bully, and he would beat the other boys to a pulp. The baron did nothing, for he was proud of his son. One day, when I was about ten years old, the son had one of the wards down on the ground, and he was pummeling him with a club. I grabbed my staff and shoved him away. We engaged in battle.”

Heather winced. As a history teacher, she understood the severe consequences if a peasant attacked one of his superiors.

“The servants were yelling at me to stop and run away,” Jean-Luc continued. “The other wards ran to alert the baron. And I continued to fight. I fought like a madman. All my years of frustration and misery erupted with so much anger.”

“I can believe that.” She’d been so angry at herself for her years of being a doormat. “What did the baron do?”

“He ordered us to stop. I realized then what I had done. I thought I was going to die.” Jean-Luc rubbed his brow, frowning. “That was the first time I felt the full extent of being powerless. My fate was entirely in the hands of another man.”

“How terrible.” Heather moved to the chair next to him.

“To everyone’s surprise, the baron walked up to his son and backhanded him across the face so hard, the boy fell to the ground with a cut lip. The baron called it punishment for failing to kill an inferior in battle. Then he said if I wanted to fight, I could. I was astonished, but it seemed much better than mucking out the stables for the rest of my life, so I agreed.”

“You trained with the other boys?”

“Yes. The next few years were difficult. I had to be on guard constantly, for the baron’s son was always trying to ambush me and beat the hell out of me.”

“What a creep.”

Jean-Luc smiled. “He was. The king at that time, Louis XII, was trying to take over Italy. He demanded his nobles send him their best knights. The baron was linked to the powerful de Guise family who wanted the king to fail, so the baron was told to send his worst. And so I was quickly knighted. Another sad joke.”

Heather winced. “You couldn’t have been the worst.”

“I had no real battle experience. And no family, so I was expendable. I was given a poor excuse for a horse, and some pathetic old weapons.”

“Oh my gosh, they sent you to die.”

“Exactly. I remember the baron laughing, saying that his decision to train me had paid off. I was sent instead of his son to die in a war that was doomed to fail.” Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly. “I swore that day that I would never be powerless again. I would never be a pawn again.”

Heather touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

He took her hand in his. “My first battle was in 1500. I survived.”

“You were only fifteen.”

He nodded. “I continued to do well. I was noticed and given a better horse and equipment. I was working my way up the ranks until 1513 and the Battle of the Spurs.”

“That’s when you…”

“Died. The English invaded France at Guinegate, and my comrades fled in battle. I was so angry that I stood my ground and slashed the first Englishman who approached me. A stupid mistake, for soon I was surrounded and stabbed many times. They left me to die.”

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