Vampire, Interrupted (23 page)

“But she’s an immortal,” Christian protested. “Our memories can’t be wiped.”

“And yet the memories are gone,” he pointed out. “She doesn’t recall me, Marcus, or even the period when Jean Claude was missing. Instead, Marcus found some vague memory of a tour of Europe during the twenty-two or–three-year period encompassing his death and our being together.”

“How?” Christian asked with bewilderment.

“We don’t know,” he admitted with a sigh. “It’s possible a three-on-one might have done it.”

“A three-on-one?” Tiny asked.

“A procedure where three immortals merge together and wipe away memories of a fourth individual,” Julius explained.

“A mortal,” Christian insisted with a frown. “That only works on mortals. You can’t wipe the memories of an immortal.”

“But if they’re telling the truth then Marguerite’s
memories have been wiped,” Tiny pointed out, and then added, “and I believe it.”

Julius nodded, glad at least that he didn’t have to convince the detective.

“So,” Tiny continued, “the question becomes, why would they wipe her memory of that specific period if she willingly did all you just recounted?”

“That is what we wondered,” Julius admitted. “It seemed obvious to us that all was not as it had been presented at the time. We needed to find out what really happened five hundred years ago. If she’d had her memories still intact, Marcus could have read them, but she had no memories to read. So, the best bet seemed to be to get her to York and hope that being here sparked some memory in her that would unravel the rest and we would finally find out what happened.”

Tiny snorted disparagingly. “If she did order Christian killed, Jean Claude controlled her and made her do so.”

“I agree,” Julius murmured.

“You do?” Christian asked and the hope on his face that his mother hadn’t wished him dead made Julius’s heart ache for him.

“Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “The Marguerite I know now is the same woman I fell in love with all those years ago, and she is not a woman who could kill a child, any child, and most definitely not her own.”

“Well, then—” Tiny began but Julius interrupted him.

“But that doesn’t explain her killing the maid who saved Christian.”

“Jean Claude must have controlled her and made
her do that as well,” Tiny said with a shrug that suggested this was obvious, but Julius shook his head.

“She was alone when she entered the house. Jean Claude was not with her, and he wouldn’t have been able to control her from a distance any more than I can control someone out on the street from here.”

“I was controlled in California and made to unlock Vincent’s door by someone outside,” Tiny pointed out.

“Then the immortal must have been looking in the window. They have to be able to see where they are sending you.”

Tiny frowned over this news and then said, “So whoever controlled her was in the house today?”

Julius stiffened and stared at the man.

Tiny was frowning. “Did you see anyone? I don’t recall seeing anyone in the house, but I could have been controlled.
Did
you see anyone?”

“Dear God,” Julius breathed as he realized he hadn’t seen anyone in the house. Someone had controlled her from outside. But how was that possible?

“How can anyone possibly control her like this?” Christian asked with a frown. “She is an immortal. No one should be able to control her so completely.”

“What do you mean?” Tiny asked curiously.

“She’s seven hundred years old,” Christian explained. “Mortals and newly turned or young immortals are easily controlled by all and sundry, but the older we become, the better we become at erecting guards in our mind to protect ourselves. She shouldn’t be controlled so easily. In fact, Jean Claude should have lost his ability to control her after the first hundred years or so.”

“I wondered about that too,” Marcus admitted. “It troubled me that he still controlled her so completely right up until his death.”

“You were able to read her, Marcus,” Tiny pointed out. “Could you control her as well?”

“No, I tried to control her and make her sit beside Julius on the train when she started to move to the opposite table,” he admitted. “But she didn’t even hesitate in step.”

“But you can read her easily enough?” Tiny asked, trying to understand.

“Reading is different,” Julius explained. “Marcus and I are much older. We can read most immortals younger than ourselves if they are distracted, and Marguerite was undoubtedly distracted in California and then again here.”

“Can
you
read her?” Tiny asked Julius, eyes narrowing.

“No. She’s my lifemate,” he said without hesitation. “We cannot read lifemates, that’s what makes them—”

“I know. I was just checking,” Tiny interrupted and then sighed. “So, Jean Claude shouldn’t have been able to control her for so long, but somehow managed to. And someone controlled her today, but it couldn’t be Jean Claude because he’s dead, right?”

“He was supposed to be dead five hundred years ago too,” Marcus pointed out dryly.

That comment had a stultifying effect on everyone. Three pairs of eyes turned to him as if he’d suggested they hold an all-male orgy.

Marcus shrugged. “Well, it’s true. He was supposed to be dead for more than twenty years when
he returned and reclaimed his wife. And,” he added grimly, “the man supposedly died in a fire this last time. What if it wasn’t him they buried?”

“Dear God,” Julius breathed with horror and stood up. “She’s not safe here. We have to take her back to Italy.”

“I doubt she’d be any safer there than here,” Tiny argued. “Besides, we need her to remember and you need to keep her here to help her do that.”

Julius considered this briefly and then shook his head. “There is security on my estate. It would be difficult for anyone to get close enough to control her there. It is more important to keep her safe. We can resolve everything else later if necessary.”

“You’re going to have to tell her everything,” Tiny warned. “Right now she’s probably packing her bags and ordering a taxi,” he said and then frowned and asked, “Why the hell didn’t you just tell us everything from the beginning?”

Julius snorted at the idea. “That would have worked well, I’m sure. What should I have said, “Hello, Marguerite. I’m Julius Notte, your long lost lifemate. I know you don’t remember me, but we met five hundred years ago when you thought you were a widow. We’re true lifemates and love each other more than life. We even married and were expecting our first child when Jean Claude, your husband who was supposed to be dead, showed up. You dumped me for him, ordered our child murdered and then killed the maid for not killing him. Oh, and by the way, those twenty-two years or so you spent in Europe? Never happened. And maybe your husband is alive now,
we’re not sure, but heck, let’s be lifemates and live happily ever after, huh?”

Tiny grimaced. “I guess it would have sounded pretty farfetched when you first showed up in London. Especially after you attacked me and everything.”

“You were in bed with my lifemate,” Julius snapped. “As for telling her now, despite everything that has happened, she will probably still find it too farfetched to believe. That’s why I didn’t even try to explain to her just now when she asked me to. She is never going to believe me. She’ll think I’m mad, or lying, or…”

“Another Jean Claude,” Tiny suggested quietly when he shook his head helplessly.

“Yes,” Julius said miserably. “That bastard hurt her terribly. She has trust issues because of him and I don’t know if our love is enough to help her get past her fears and believe in me…in us.”

They were all silent, and then Tiny said tentatively, “You might be able to convince her. There is that painting in your desk that Christian mentioned.

Julius was considering that and wondering if it would help convince Marguerite of the truth behind the seemingly wild tale when Tiny suddenly straightened, his expression excited.

“Was Martine here when it all happened?” he asked.

“No. I told you, when we met, Marguerite was living here while Martine—”

“Oh, right-right,” he said on a sigh and was silent for a moment before asking, “Where was her oldest son, Lucern?”

Julius sighed. “He was here in York with her for the first couple of weeks after she moved in, but I didn’t meet her until after he left. Marguerite sent messengers out to look for him when we decided to marry, but he was a mercenary and moved around a lot and it took a while to reach him. Then we realized she was pregnant with Christian and decided we couldn’t wait for his return. I gather he popped up back in York a few days after his father returned.”

“Lucern was a mercenary?” Tiny asked with disbelief. “I thought he was a romance writer?”

Julius sighed. “I’m sure he has been many things, Tiny, he’s over six hundred years old. When he was young he was a warrior. Now he’s a romance writer. Five hundred years from now he may be a scientist. Interests change when you have the time to explore them.”

“Right,” Tiny muttered and then asked, “Wasn’t there anyone around from her family who could help back you up?”

Julius started to shake his head and then paused. “Her brother-in-law.”

“Lucian?” Tiny asked with dismay.

“Intimidating fellow, isn’t he?” Julius asked dryly. “He gave me the
talk
.”

“The
talk
?”

“The
If you hurt her, I’ll kill you
talk,” he said dryly.

“Yeah?” Tiny grinned.

Julius sighed. “He’s a hard bastard and he was Jean Claude’s twin brother. I don’t think he’d be very helpful.”

“I don’t know,” Marcus said suddenly, and Julius
glanced at him in question. “Well, despite their being twins, Jean Claude let Lucian think he was dead along with everyone else. He obviously didn’t trust him to keep the secret.”

Tiny shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. From what I know of the family, Lucian’s a hardcore, by-the-book type. He’d have turned Jean Claude in to the council.”

“That doesn’t necessarily apply to his brother, and doesn’t mean he’d help me out now,” Julius pointed out.

“No,” Tiny agreed on a sigh.

“I think we should leave the issue of finding a family member to help back up your story until we see if Marguerite needs the extra convincing,” Christian announced. “The picture and your word might be enough.”

“Do you think so?” Julius asked uncertainly.

He shrugged. “There is only one way to find out.”

“Right.” Julius stood…and then sat back down. “What do I say?”

“Just tell her everything,” Tiny advised. “Be honest. We’ll back you up if necessary. And if it doesn’t convince her, ask her to at least come home to Italy with you so you can show her the picture and perhaps call Lucian to get him to back you up.”

Nodding, Julius straightened his shoulders and stood up again. He strode purposefully up the hall, reached the stairs and then turned back, turned to the stairs again, then hesitated once more. This was the most important thing in the world to him. He was about to ask her to trust him on blind faith. Something
he
hadn’t managed to give
her
five hundred
years ago. He didn’t want to spend another five hundred years without her. He didn’t want to lose her for a minute. He had to do this right.

“Father,” Christian said quietly, walking up the hall toward him.

Julius glanced at him, relieved for the excuse to delay.

“Get your ass up there and talk to the woman. I’ve spent five hundred years without a mother because you were too stupid to talk to her back then and find out what was going on. And she spent that same time in a marriage that was hell for the same reason. It’s time to fix things.”

Well, as support went, it rather sucked, Julius decided with disgruntlement and began to trudge upstairs. The hall was silent when he reached the landing. Julius forced himself to cross to the door, reached for the knob, then hesitated. What if he got it wrong and messed up yet again?

“Go.”

He glanced over his shoulder, scowling at his son. Christian was now at the foot of the stairs glaring at him. Turning away, Julius shook his head and opened the door. He didn’t panic when he found it empty. Marguerite had obviously returned to her own room. The message was “
No more nooky for you, mister.”
He supposed he should have expected that, he probably wouldn’t be able to lure her back to his bed until all of this was straightened out.

Wincing at the thought, he moved to the next door, but didn’t hesitate this time. Julius could actually feel Christian’s beady little eyes glaring into the back of his head, so he opened the door at once and then
stepped inside to peer around, only to realize this room too was empty.

Turning away he peered at the open bathroom door, and then checked the last bedroom despite the fact that she would have no reason to be there. Of course, she wasn’t there either. Marguerite was gone.

Marguerite’s eyes widened at the hordes before her
as she paused at the mouth of the alley. It opened on to a busy street filled with shoppers moving every which way. While she’d thought the streets were busy at night, they were nothing like the mass of humanity before her now. It made her glad she normally only came out at night. This was madness.

Terribly aware of the sun overhead, Marguerite forced herself to move, thrusting herself into the herd, her nose quivering as she was pressed from every side. Now that she was out of the house, Marguerite was becoming aware of a need for blood. The attack last night had caused a lot of damage and used a lot of blood to heal it, and while Julius had fed her several bags at the time, she knew she should have had three or four more bags on awaking. Instead she’d had none. That was going to be a problem.

She was already paying the price, cramps starting in her stomach.

Marguerite sighed to herself. Her heart was breaking and she was a hungry vampire surrounded by several hundred, or even thousand, living, breathing blood bags with legs. She could feel her teeth shifting in her mouth as the smell of them hit her.