Vampire Memories #5 - Ghosts of Memories (18 page)

“Oh yes, of course,” Martha said.

“Our eldest sister, Charlotte, died last year,” said Clementine, “and after our time of mourning ended, we all took a trip to England to try and lift our spirits.”

“But on this journey back,” Martha said, “something has gone mis—”

“Martha!” Amelia cut in. “Don’t tell him more.”

Ivory stood quietly by, just listening. But she’d been the one to earlier announce that he was taking the lead and that the ladies were in good hands.

“Until this evening, then,” Christian said with a bow.

As he and Ivory walked away, she whispered, “What are you going to do? You’ve got nothing.”

“Just arrive on time, hold my hand, and watch.”

Sitting down that night, he wasn’t surprised to see that Madame Dupuis was also taking part, so that made six of them around the table, with lanterns flickering all around. Christian couldn’t help an unwanted sensation of glee, but he also couldn’t wait to show Ivory what he could do.

You’ve got nothing,
she’d said earlier.

She had no idea.

He decided to begin as she had. “Everyone please join hands.”

“Oh, this is so exciting,” said Clementine.

Christian closed his eyes. “I need you all to think of Charlotte, to use your minds to call her with me.”

Instantly, images of Charlotte surfaced in all three of the sisters’ thoughts.

“Charlotte Bertram,” he said. “Hear me. Come to me. Speak to me.”

Rather than hum as Ivory had, he simply left a few moments of silence, and then he called for Charlotte again while he busily read the sisters’ minds.

He opened his eyes.

“She is here,” he said, “standing beside the table.”

“No. Really?” Martha said, looking where he was staring.

The images he was picking up were certainly not flattering. Charlotte had been an enormous woman with a bosom like a jutting shelf and apparently…a penchant for brightly colored wigs. But he did see the dress she was buried in.

“She is a woman of great stature,” he said, “wearing a red velvet gown with a single string of pearls around her neck. She tells me the pearls were not her favorite, but that Clementine always said they made her look more distinguished.”

Martha and Clementine gasped aloud. Amelia looked wary.

Their thoughts were all churning now, and he picked out a few bits and pieces before going for the throat. He knew why they were here and what they wanted, but he decided to build things up a bit first.

“Martha, Charlotte tells me that your father, David, is so thankful to you for staying at his bedside those days when he died of blood poisoning. He couldn’t tell you then, but it meant a great deal to him.”

Ivory’s fingers tightened on his hand, but the three sisters fell silent.

Then Clementine said, “Ask Charlotte if she knows what’s become of the big blue sea.”

Christian turned back to the empty space where he’d first been staring. “Charlotte, where is the big blue sea?”

He paused a moment, just nodding, and the room was dead silent. “Clementine, she says that you were right to decide to sell the necklace and give the money to charity, but one of your sisters did not agree. She also says the maid who was blamed had nothing to do with its loss, and that is why you’ve been unable to locate it through searches of the girl’s room. Does this mean anything to you?”

He heard several sharp intakes of breath, but he ignored them. Most of his energy was focused in Amelia’s mind now. Charlotte had owned a sapphire necklace worth thousands, and she’d been unable to choose which sister should inherit, so she’d left it to all three. But the joint ownership had only caused strife and arguments on the trip to England, until finally Clementine had insisted that upon reaching Boston again, they would sell the necklace and give the money to a hospital for the poor. Both her sisters had consented.

Martha finished a gasp. No longer sounding excited or amused, she asked, “What does she mean the maid didn’t take it? The captain’s steward swore he saw her coming out of Clementine’s cabin long past scheduled hours for cleaning.”

“No,” Christian said. “That maid was never in Clementine’s room. Charlotte says the steward was well paid to tell you that. Upon closer questioning, he will probably admit it.”

“By whom?” Martha asked. “Who paid him?”

Christian looked across the table. “Your sister Amelia. If you have her held here and send someone, you will find the big blue sea in a false-bottom compartment of her suitcase.”

Amelia jumped to her feet as fast as a woman of her size could possibly jump. “That’s an outrageous lie!”

He continued looking her directly in the eyes, and she sank back into her chair again.

“Clementine,” he said. “Shall I send someone to look?”

Neither of the other sisters looked particularly happy at this outcome, but Clementine nodded. “Yes, send someone.”

Turning, he saw Ivory staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, but in her mind he saw that she was certain the sapphire necklace would indeed be found at the bottom of that suitcase.

After that, Ivory was in his company every night. They drank and talked. She shared secrets of her trade, and they made plans for how they might use each other’s skills in the same séance.

When he’d told her he could read minds, she’d believed him.

She’d had other partners before, never for very long, but although she didn’t know Christian well yet, she knew the real thing when she saw it, and he was the real thing.

He’d never kept company like this with a young woman before, and the experience was quite different from flattering aging women. Ivory didn’t seek flattery. She used her lovely face as a mask. That was all.

However, if truth be told, she was a bit rough around the edges for his taste. She had a temper, and she was a survivor like him, so occasionally she behaved in a manner he found…unladylike. But she valued him, and he needed her, and at first that was enough. He knew he’d found his calling. There would be no more catering to the egos of aging ladies for him.

If he and Ivory could make connections with an even wealthier circle, there was a great deal of money to be made.

A few days before reaching Boston, a spark of genius hit him, and he saw how this game might really be played.

He pictured how the séance would go if Ivory could read his mind. He could play the spiritualist, and she could play the conduit. If he could read minds, ask questions aloud, and then feed her the answers, what a stunning show that would make. The drama would be twofold, and no one would doubt them.

Also…in some ways, occasionally when he looked at Ivory, he couldn’t help seeing something of himself, someone who was restless, someone who never stayed too long. But in this case, he needed her to stay.

He wanted her to stay for many years, lovely and fresh and his partner.

She was a born actress and a born confidence trickster. He’d never known anyone like her in all his existence.

That night, he asked her to his cabin. She was comfortable with him by now and came right on time, with a bottle of white wine in her hand.

“We’re almost there,” she said. “Maybe two more nights, and we’ll make harbor. You give me a few weeks and let me try to get something big set up…for people with real money.”

He took in her delicate profile. Her basic thoughts consisted of remembering one confidence game after another since she was about sixteen years old. He hadn’t picked up any stray thoughts in her mind from before then.

“Don’t you have questions about me?” he asked.

The sudden switch of topic caught her off guard, and she half turned, slightly cautious now. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t I eat? Why don’t you ever see me in daylight? How is it possible that I can read minds?”

She grew tense. He didn’t need to bother with her thoughts to see that.

“That’s none of my business,” she said. “You’re good at what you do. That’s all that matters.”

Yes, for a while,
he thought.
Until you want to move on to someone else.

He was dead set on the idea of himself playing the spiritualist and her playing the conduit. What a show that would make.

“What if I told you I could make it so you could read minds, too?” he asked. “So that you could read my mind? I could pretend to ask our visiting spirit questions, you could read me, and I could pass you the answers to speak aloud. That would be impressive, no?”

She seemed to relax a little, maybe thinking he was joking and she’d taken his initial questions too seriously. “Yes, it would.” She smiled at him. “But I don’t think you can touch the top of my head and make it so I can read minds, too, Christian. You’re one of a kind.”

“I’m not,” he said, letting his voice drop. “And I
can
make it so you can read minds. I can make it so you’ll never age another day. But there’s a price. You won’t be able to eat food anymore, and you won’t ever see the sun again. You’ll need to hunt about once a week, and feed on blood from someone’s wrist and then blur their memories so they won’t remember. But I can do this for you if you’ll let me.”

He was well aware that he’d not been undead for a hundred years yet, and he’d be breaking the second law, but he didn’t see a choice here. He just kept going over how perfect the show would be with the two of them involved, but they both needed to be telepathic…and he didn’t want her to age another day.

There was only one answer. Of course she would agree. He was offering her a great gift.

But she started backing toward the door. “It’s late. Maybe I should go back to my room.”

He flashed a suggestion.
No, stay with him. Listen to him.

To his shock, she fought the suggestion and kept on backing up. It was difficult for her. He could see that. But she was still moving. She turned around when she reached the door, grabbing for the handle, but he stepped forward and held the door shut.

Angry, she whirled back to face him. “Christian, let me out of here.”

He’d never in his existence had to use physical strength to keep a woman in a room with him.

“Listen to me,” he whispered. “I’m offering you a great gift. All you have to do is consent. I’ll do everything else. I can make you just like me. You won’t believe the power, Ivory. You’ll feel like you’ve been blind your whole life and then suddenly you can see everything.”

She shoved against his chest, hard, but she couldn’t move his body, and he was still holding the door closed.

Confused, he read her surface thoughts and saw that she thought she’d trusted him too quickly, and that he was dangerous and mad, and if she got out of this room, she’d find a way to vanish somewhere on the ship where he’d never find her again.

Anger and fear rose inside him at the same time.

He didn’t know how to deal with being refused. Women didn’t refuse him, and he’d never made such a glorious offer to anyone before. He tried to calm himself. She was fighting him only because she didn’t understand. Afterward, she’d thank him, and the two of them would have a profitable future together.

Grabbing both her arms, he pulled her back toward the bed, and she went wild, fighting and scratching and screaming. He’d never dealt with anything like this, not even when he was mortal. But she wasn’t strong, and he was. It took him only a few seconds to pin her to the bed with one hand over her mouth, and once she’d felt the strength in his arms, her anger vanished and her eyes stared up with open fear. They were begging him to stop.

He wished he could make her understand. She’d thank him afterward.

He knew how to do this. He remembered exactly what Bernadette had done. Without hesitating, he drove his teeth into Ivory’s throat.

She was still screaming into his hand.

chapter nine

N
o more!”

On the edge of his awareness, Christian heard someone’s voice. The ship’s cabin around him vanished, and he suddenly found himself in an overfurnished bedroom. But he could still feel Ivory’s panicked breath on his palm.

Someone slid off the bed and started choking on the floor, repeating the phrase, “No more.”

Then everything came rushing back.

His vision cleared, and he saw Eleisha on the floor in her shimmering evening gown with her face twisted in pain, and he remembered something about her having asked to read a few memories.

But he’d just relived years and years of his existence. The thought turned him cold. Had she seen all that?

“You forced her,” Eleisha choked. “How could you do that?”

She had seen it. She knew everything, every dirty little secret of his life…that he’d slept in alleys, that he’d cut purses, that he’d sold his companionship, that he’d broken the second and the third laws.

He wasn’t given to blind rage, but it swelled up inside him, and he dropped to the floor beside her, grabbing her by the throat. She’d tricked him, seduced him into dropping his guard, and then she’d laid his whole existence bare. She would despise him now, spurn him. She would tell the others.

How could he stop any of that from happening?

No one could ever know of his past. He didn’t want to know some of it himself, and most of the time, he still believed himself to be Christian Lefevre, the fourth son of a minor nobleman from the south of France.

Still lost in a sense of betrayal and rage, he snarled into her pretty face and tightened his hand, watching with some satisfaction as the revulsion in her eyes turned to fear.

But then something unexpected happened.

Freeze!

The panicked mental command hit him like a club. Every muscle in his body went rigid, and he couldn’t move at all. Somehow, Eleisha shoved his hand away from her throat and scrambled sideways. But she didn’t scream or call for help. She just watched him.

Slowly, he started to gain control of his muscles again, and he stared back at her. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have taken her at face value as fragile and helpless? She could do things he could not. What else was she capable of?