Vampire Memories #5 - Ghosts of Memories (23 page)

She waited. Although he was in quite a state, at least he was speaking to her as a partner now.

“Madame Dupuis offered to give us an introduction to her second cousin in Georgia,” he said, “a Camille du Blois…apparently the cream of Atlanta society. It’s perfect, Ivory. When we arrive, we can present ourselves however we wish, as longtime professionals. Then we’ll show them what we can do, and the bookings will start flowing in.”

He stopped.

“And?” she asked.

“We have to arrive in style…to look the part. That means the right clothes, the right carriage, and the right hotels.”

Something in his voice made her feel cold. “What have you done?” she repeated. “Did you kill someone?”

“Kill someone? No.” He shook his head abruptly. “But I went home with Clementine Bertram, and I used my gift to get her to open her family safe and give me five thousand dollars.”

Ivory gasped. She still had no idea what he meant when he spoke of “his gift,” but pulling a five-thousand-dollar confidence game was serious.

“I blurred her memory, but once she finds the money gone, she still might make a connection. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I don’t think she’ll make an accusation.” He paused. “I just hope the money’s enough. I’m not accustomed to…paying for things.” As she wondered what that meant, he rambled on. “It’s so much easier to simply have the bills sent on without ever seeing them.”

That was the first time Ivory realized that she knew nothing about him. How old was he? What kind of an existence had he been living where he didn’t pay his own bills?

But then he seemed to notice how closely she was watching him, and he straightened. The fear of being without him swelled up in her throat again, making her want to choke.

“Just get packed,” he ordered.

The carriage journey to Atlanta seemed endless. Being trapped alone in a small space with Christian was bad enough, but as they moved inland, she couldn’t help the panic of leaving the coast behind.

Running games on the ships had been good to her for a long time, and she felt as if she’d just been cut off from everything she knew. Christian had something else in mind for his vision of the game. She didn’t know exactly what yet, but she knew he’d be playing for much higher stakes—and that he viewed her as a necessary tool.

All night, as the wheels rolled onward, he kept at her about her diction, her accent, and her posture, forcing her to practice a detached smile and to say things like, “How lovely to meet you.”

There were only a few phrases he really wanted her to have down, but he made her practice them over and over again. Some nights, she’d get a break from this tedium when he fell into a black mood and would stare out the window into the darkness, murmuring things like, “How could I have fallen into this?”

One night, as they were about halfway through North Carolina, she surprised him by asking, “How did you fall into this? What chased you out of Europe?”

He turned from the window and looked at her through angry eyes. “A great, mad vampire wielding a sword, that’s what.”

As he spoke, she felt the fear rising inside her again.

“Have I told you that there were once a number of us existing in Europe?” he went on. “Leading our happy little lives until one us of lost his reason and started killing the others, coming from the darkness with a sword and slicing off our heads.”

He suddenly seemed to be enjoying this, and Ivory sat frozen. She wanted him to stop. She would have done anything—even practice her diction—to make him stop.

“His name is Julian, and he has no idea you exist,” Christian said softly. “But if you ever try to leave me, I’ll find out where you are, and I’ll tell him.”

The sickening fear inside Ivory kept growing, and she sat there, still frozen, until he finally turned to stare back out the window.

She didn’t try to incite conversation again.

Christian booked them another lavish hotel in Atlanta. Then he hired a tailor and a dressmaker.

Within a week, Ivory was decked in a burgundy silk gown finer than anything she’d ever worn. The tiny slippers and the diamond earrings he’d purchased should have made her glow with pleasure, but they didn’t. They just felt like a costume he’d designed.

He ordered her to sit in front of him at a dressing table while he did her hair himself.

Although she’d learned not to speak to him unless absolutely necessary, she couldn’t help asking, “You know how to do a woman’s hair?”

“Of course,” he answered absently. “I used to do this all the time for…”

“For?”

He stopped talking, and she didn’t press him.

But she had to admit that when he finished, she looked like a young lady fit for the finest houses of Georgian society.

“Just bring your velvet purse tonight,” he said. “I’ll have rest of our things sent.”

She blinked, alarmed now. “Sent where?”

His nearly colorless eyes glinted, as if amused by her confusion. “To the estate of Camille du Blois, of course. Did I not tell you? I met with her this week. We’ve been invited to stay, and I decided I rather liked the idea of being her special guest. It lends us credence. She’s arranged for our first séance two nights from now. If you do exactly as I say, more should follow. We’ll be the toast of the town.”

She stood up. “So soon? You said I wasn’t ready. We haven’t even practiced. How are you going to play this?”

He leaned closer. “Just do as I’ve instructed. Speak only the phrases I’ve taught you when we’re socializing. Watch your diction and your posture, and then when the show starts, just stay with me, inside my head, and speak the words I pass you.” He smiled. “We’ll dazzle them.”

Two nights later, Ivory found herself sitting down at a large round table in the parlor of Camille du Blois.

Camille was an aging widow who seemed overly taken with Christian, but there were also three men present who appeared to be struggling not to stare at Ivory. She was well aware that she looked especially alluring tonight—in part thanks to Christian—and although she was beginning to wonder if Christian had ever run a confidence game in his life, he certainly had good instincts.

Distraction was eighty percent of success.

He seemed to already understand that, and the sheer physical presence of the two of them was proving quite a distraction. Before leaving the hotel to come here a few nights ago, he’d even pierced his ear and put in a gold ring.

“Touch of the gypsy,” he’d said, smiling.

Now he was in command of the entire room—and the room was not short on powerful men.

“Colonel Gerard,” Christian said, “before we begin, can you tell me who it is you wish me to call from the other side? I only need a name.”

In addition to Christian, Ivory, and Camille, there were three Southern officers sitting at the table, a lieutenant, a captain, and a colonel. Colonel Gerard sat between the other two, but his sharp gaze was moving between Christian and the candelabra on the table with some reticence in his eyes, as if he now regretted having requested this audience.

“It’s all right, Colonel,” Camille said gently. “Whatever you say here is in complete confidence.”

Christian had gone to great lengths to make sure it was clear he’d been told absolutely nothing regarding the reason for tonight’s séance.

“He’s been dead a long time,” Colonel Gerard began, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. “He served with me in my early career. His name was Anthony Leroy.”

Christian nodded, but his face was unreadable. He looked detached, untouchable, and yet compassionate at the same time. Ivory could not help admiring his finesse. He’d been born to do this.

“Everyone please join hands,” he said, and for a second, she wondered if the colonel would agree to join hands with two other men, but Christian added, “We must form a circle,” and the officers obeyed him—quite a testament to his authority here.

Stay with me,
Christian flashed.
Stay inside my head and see what I see. Then speak only the words I give you.

Christian closed his eyes. “Anthony Leroy, hear me. Come to me from the other side. Speak to me through Ivory.”

Locked inside Christian’s mind, Ivory could see a clear image of Anthony Leroy inside the colonel’s thoughts.

Christian called for Leroy again, dragging out the anticipation, and then he opened his eyes. “He is with us in the room, standing beside the table.”

Colonel Gerard started in surprise and looked to the blank space where Christian was gazing.

Christian smiled. “He’s tall and lanky with brown hair in need of a cut.” He squinted slightly. “He’s missing the little finger of his left hand.”

The colonel gasped, and both men with him turned slightly pale.

“He can see you, but he can hear only me,” Christian said. “What would you like me to ask him?”

The colonel seemed at a loss now, as if he never truly believed matters would get this far. “Ask him…ask him if he cheated that night. He’ll know what I mean.”

“Did you cheat, Anthony?” Christian asked.

Instantly, Ivory felt him feeding her answers. She stared straight ahead as if in a trance. “I did, my friend. I was pulling cards from inside my sleeve, but you were not to blame. My being cashiered had nothing to do with what happened later.”

She could even hear the pitch of Leroy’s voice in Gerard’s mind, and she managed to copy it effectively.

The colonel was trembling slightly now, his face white, and through Christian, Ivory could see the whole story. As a young man, Colonel Gerard had enjoyed the closest friendship of his life, and he’d been at ease with Anthony Leroy in a way he’d never known before. One night, they’d had far too much drink, and they were playing cards for money, along with three other young officers, and Leroy won so many hands that Gerard began to suspect him of cheating. On any other night, Gerard might have let it go, but he’d had a bad day, and he was drunk, and he called his friend out in front of witnesses. Cheating at cards was a serious offense in the military, and because of Gerard’s outburst and accusation, a formal inquest was held. Leroy was found guilty. He was discharged in disgrace and sent home to Louisiana. Two months later, he shot himself in the head.

For almost thirty years, Gerard had suffered over this, wondering if he’d been so drunk that he’d accused his friend unfairly…wishing more than anything else that he could just take the whole night back.

Unfortunately, unlike with the Bertram sisters, no one in this room knew what had really happened that night. The only one who’d been there was the colonel, and he didn’t know himself.

So Christian was working off the cuff, and he’d already decided to tell Gerard that Leroy had been cheating—thus easing him of one possible piece of guilt. But then Ivory felt his mind moving forward, and he began feeding her a story.

She kept her eyes straight ahead, still playing the conduit, and she copied the inflection of Leroy’s voice. “But you don’t know everything. I wasn’t disappointed to be sent home. I was happy. I
wanted
to go home, to help my father with the plantation, to marry my girl…to live my life at home. But when I got back and Susanna found out I wasn’t going to be a career officer, she broke with me. She never loved me, only the idea of what I’d be. But I loved her…and one night, I drank a bottle of brandy and put a gun to my head like a fool.” Ivory paused. “It wasn’t you, Gerard. You did me a favor getting me thrown out. It never had anything to do with you.”

The colonel was staring at Ivory, and the muscles in his jaw were clenched. “Tell him I miss him.”

“He misses you,” Christian said to the empty space by the table.

“I miss you, too,” Ivory answered Gerard directly. “Nobody ever listened to my stories the way you did.”

“He’s gone now,” Christian said, turning his head from the empty spot. His voice was full of compassion. “Did you learn what you needed from him?”

The colonel nodded once, shortly. He seemed almost beyond speech, but he managed to say, “I’ll have the money sent over tonight.”

An hour later, Ivory sat in front of the mirror in her guest room, thinking over everything that had just happened downstairs.

Christian was right. Together, they were capable of quite a show.

With him asking the “ghost” questions and her giving the answers, it was impossible to doubt them, especially when he’d made a point of not even learning the dead person’s name before sitting down at the table.

They’d been dazzling.

Astonishing.

So why wasn’t she happy? She felt trapped and sick to her stomach.

The door opened, and Christian walked in, smiling. For once, the smile reached all the way up to his eerie clear eyes. “You were perfect,” he said, “better than I could have imagined. Camille will have her friends on a waiting list inside of a week, and from now on, they’ll be paying in advance.”

But then he saw her face in the mirror, and he stopped halfway across the room, just watching her reflection.

The sickening fear began welling inside her, and she didn’t think she could stand it tonight.

He finished crossing the room and reached over to pull a few pins from her hair. “I’ll keep you safe,” he said quietly, “and you’ll do exactly as I say, won’t you?”

Sometimes, if she agreed with him quickly, the worst of the fear faded a little.

“Yes, I’ll do exactly as you say.”

chapter twelve

W
ade jerked away from Ivory’s mind and gripped the steering wheel, gasping for air. The sickening fear he’d felt inside her was too much, and he hadn’t been able to stay in the memory.

But she was choking beside him, her green eyes wild, and he fought to get control of himself so he could try to help her.

Coming out of this the first time was never easy.

“You’re here,” he managed to say. “You’re with me in the car.”

With both hands on the dashboard, she cried out, “Did you see that? All of it?”

For once, her defenses were completely down, and he couldn’t help a stab of guilt for having put her through such memories, for making her relive them.