Love Bites (22 page)

“Thank God, baby. I was so worried. I couldn't believe it when Officer Janscom called to say that you had been found and were safe. Oh, honey, we were so scared we'd never see you again. Thank God.” She paused to clasp Rachel's face in her hands and kiss her on each cheek. Then she studied her and frowned. “You look different. And terribly pale. You need a nice home-cooked meal and a nap.”

“Yes, we'll take you home,” her father said gruffly, putting his arm around her in a half hug as he turned her back the way they'd come.

Rachel remained silent as her parents herded her from the building. She shouldn't be pale; she had ingested more than enough blood in the van on the way to the hospital. Her pallor was no doubt due to the news Greg had given her, and the impact it had made. Etienne had given up his chance to turn a life mate by saving her, she thought faintly. Dear God, he had turned her, taken the time and care to train her to feed and to control her teeth, yet he could never have a life mate. He had given up any chance at a life partner for her.

All she could think was that he must hate her. And if he didn't, it was only because he hadn't yet had the chance to think about the sacrifice he'd made. The
moment he realized all he had given up, he would definitely hate her. A lifetime without someone to love him, the equivalent of several lifetimes really. He'd lived hundreds of years and would live hundreds more without love. Or he would find that love, only to be forced to watch her age and die while he stayed young forever.

 

Etienne signed the last copy of the statement set before him and pushed it impatiently across the desk to be witnessed. He was eager to get this done and get out of there. No one had gone with Rachel. It had all happened so fast, they hadn't been given the opportunity. They'd all been led into this room and then Officer Janscom had asked Rachel to follow her and had taken her away. He didn't like the idea of her being alone. It wasn't that he was concerned that anything might happen to her; Pudge was no longer a threat so she was safe enough. But what if someone asked her an uncomfortable question and no one was there to erase the mind of the asker? Rachel was a lousy liar. Besides, he had the nagging fear that she was going to disappear on him. She could feed on her own now. She'd even fed straight from the bag in the van. She could control her teeth as well. And with Pudge removed, the final excuse for keeping her in his home was gone. What if she decided to leave, or refused to return to his home with him? He didn't want her to leave. Etienne had grown far too used to her
presence. He enjoyed her. He wanted to spend his life—

“There we are then, sir,” Officer Janscom said as she stacked the copies of the statement in a neat pile. “All done. Someone will contact you if we need anything else, but you're free to go now.”

Etienne was out the door almost before she'd finished speaking. He had to find Rachel. They needed to talk. He needed to know how she felt about him. If she thought she might someday come to love him as he was quickly coming to love her.

“Etienne!”

He whirled at that exclamation as he came out into the hall, but it was only his sister. Etienne nodded at her, then turned to glance expectantly around. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Rachel anywhere.

“Have you seen Rachel?” Etienne asked his sister as she reached his side and enveloped him in a hug.

“Yes. She was here with Gregory when I left to ask about your whereabouts.” Lissianna pulled back and glanced toward her husband in a silent question as he slowly approached. “Where did she go, honey?”

“Her parents arrived. She left with them,” he explained, but there was a look on his face that made Etienne wary.

“What is it?” he asked.

Gregory hesitated briefly, then admitted, “I think I might have made a mistake.”

“What kind of mistake?” Lissianna asked, slipping her hand reassuringly into his.

“I explained the rule about only being allowed to turn one person in a lifetime and that it was usually a life mate,” he admitted.

“You explained the sacrifice Etienne made for her and she still left without a word to him?” Lissianna asked with disbelief. “Knowing
that
, she couldn't even take the time to say good-bye? Or even offer a thank-you?”

Etienne heard Lissianna's words, but in truth he couldn't comprehend them. He would later. In the meantime, he was simply standing there feeling lost and abandoned. She'd done exactly what he'd feared. Rachel had left him.

His mother was speaking to him now, but Etienne wasn't listening. He felt as if he had cotton wool in his ears. Actually, it felt rather as if his entire brain were stuffed with cotton wool. He nodded his head absently every once in a while as they were walking out of the police station. Etienne doubted he was fooling anyone; they all were probably reading his mind, though he couldn't seem to read his own thoughts. But he must have nodded at the appropriate places because no one called him on it. They all simply talked away as they walked out to Bastien's van and got in for the ride home.

Someone suggested they come in with him when they reached his house, but Etienne muttered some
thing about work and quickly hopped out of the van, slamming the door behind himself. He didn't want company right then. He didn't want to talk or even think. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and escape his life, however briefly. To him that meant working.

Etienne entered his house, suddenly aware of how large and empty it was. Too large for one person, if you got right down to it. He should sell it and get an apartment. He didn't need much space; an office, a bedroom, a fridge…It wasn't like he entertained much.

He winced as memories of Rachel flooded his mind; playing video games, reading quietly together by the fireside in the library, laughing over her trying to consume the reject blood he had fed her, their moonlight picnic…He closed the door on those memories as loss and fear crowded in behind them. But he didn't manage to do so before questions assailed him. Had he lost her forever? Did she feel anything for him at all? Or had it all just been a fun way to pass the time?

Not bothering to lock the door behind himself, Etienne strode straight down the hall, through the kitchen and jogged downstairs to his office. The mess they had made trying to get him out of it confronted him as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He ignored it, stepping over the debris on the floor and striding on into his office. He would have to see to it that the door was replaced eventually. There was
a deadline on finishing Blood Lust II and he really wanted to meet it. Life had been so chaotic lately that, between the trouble with Pudge and the advent of Rachel in his life, Etienne had fallen behind on finishing the project. He'd concentrate on that now. Work had always been his refuge, and it would be again now.

Etienne settled in at his desk and stared at the mess that used to be his computers. Pudge had truly ruined them when he'd shot up the room. Fortunately, Etienne had learned long ago that making backups of everything was a smart thing to do. He hadn't lost any of the work he'd done so far, but he couldn't continue on these computers.

His gaze slid to the phone, but he already knew it too had been destroyed. Turning away from the mess, he strode back out of his office and out of his house to get into his car. He'd have to buy new computers—four of them to replace those he'd lost—and then he'd work like a demon to meet his deadline. Once that was done he would consider what to do about Rachel. If there was anything
to
do.

 

“What are you going to do about Rachel?”

Etienne scowled at that question from his mother. It was one he had asked himself repeatedly over the week and a half since Rachel had walked out of the police station and out of his life. It was a question he didn't have an answer to. It seemed obvious she didn't
want him. She'd walked away without a backward glance and hadn't tried to contact him since then.

“Have you tried to contact her?” Marguerite asked, obviously reading his thoughts.

Etienne didn't bother getting upset at her intrusion into his mind. What was the use? Besides, he didn't seem to have a lot of energy lately. Certainly not enough to bother with a battle he had been losing all his life. His mother had read his mind despite his protests and would no doubt continue to until one or the other of them died.

“Of course you don't have energy; you haven't been feeding right. You're dehydrated right this minute,” Marguerite snapped. “And look at you: You haven't bathed or changed your clothes since leaving the police station. You should be grateful that Rachel hasn't tried to contact you. She'd take one look at your sorry state and turn around and walk away, glad to make her escape.”

“I've been busy,” Etienne snarled. He wasn't the sort to snarl as a rule; that was more Lucern and Bastien's bag. They were the grumpy ones in the family. But he had been feeling rather snarly of late.

“Hmm.” Marguerite stared at him, and at first he felt sure she was going to let the subject drop. Then he became aware of her sifting through his mind. He tried to close his thoughts to her, but he had never been able to do that. Besides, she had already found what
she was looking for. “You never told her that you loved her.”

Etienne winced at that accusation, then scowled. “I didn't know I loved her. I knew I cared for her, though, and wanted to keep her with me, and she no doubt knew that. Obviously she didn't care to.”

“How did she know that?” she asked dryly. “Did you tell her?”

“No.”

“How did I raise such stupid children?” Marguerite asked the room at large with disgust.

“We could read each other's thoughts when we were…intimate. She knew I cared and wanted a relationship with her.”

“What?” The expression on her face suggested he was an idiot, Etienne noted, feeling uncomfortable. “How could she read your thoughts? She was no expert. Dear Lord, the poor girl couldn't even control her teeth until the last day or so that she was here. Reading thoughts is an advanced skill that takes years to learn.” She frowned at him. “Did you read her thoughts while you were intimate and her mind was open to you?”

“No. Of course not. I didn't want to intrude.”

“But you think she was somehow able and willing to intrude on your thoughts?” she asked, then snorted with derision. “Of course she didn't. You're going to have to gather your courage and tell her, son.”

Etienne remained silent, but Marguerite could read
the fear in his mind and heart. He wanted to go after Rachel but feared rejection. She knew her son and was positive that he would go after the girl eventually. Marguerite just feared it might be too late by the time he did. It seemed to her that if she didn't want to watch her son mess up his chance at happiness, she would have to utilize a little motherly interference.

Good Lord, she thought with exasperation. The boy was over three hundred years old. A mother's job never ended.

Rachel sat back and capped the bottle of nail polish before holding her feet out and examining the results of her labor. She now had ten dark red toenails. This was a new experience, but she'd had a lot of new experiences since Etienne Argeneau had made his first appearance in her morgue.

Frowning, she forced that thought away. It wasn't good to think about Etienne. She tended to grow morose and depressed when she allowed herself to think of the man and their time together. Rachel missed him. She had only spent a short time in his home, yet it had felt like both an eternity and a mere minute at once. It was as if she had known him forever and experienced a lifetime in a heartbeat. She missed him horribly.

Sighing, she set the polish on the table and stood up. Rachel lifted her jeans so that the cuffs wouldn't ruin all her hard work, then crossed the living room of her apartment and walked into the kitchen. She really should let her nails dry properly before trying to walk, but if she continued to sit on the couch there was no doubt she would just depress herself with thoughts of Etienne and their time together. Rachel had learned that quickly once ensconced back in her own life. Thinking of Etienne was a no-no likely to sink her into deep depression and make her eat ridiculous things like ice cream that her body didn't need and she really had no taste for anymore.

Realizing that she had walked straight to the fridge and opened it to examine its contents, she closed the door with a disgusted sigh. Then she propped her hands on her hips and turned to examine the room. It was spotless. She had cleaned it, as well as the rest of the apartment, before settling down to paint her toenails to pass the time. Rachel still had trouble filling her nights off. She had returned to her life to find that the day position had been given to someone else while she was missing. Her boss had apologized profusely, explaining that they had feared the worst when she had disappeared. The position had needed to be filled at once, so he had given it to Tony, who had also applied. Rachel had assured him she understood, and she did. In fact, much to her own surprise, she hadn't really minded. Her experiences in that one
short week had definitely turned her into something of a night person. She now loved the nights and was happy to work through them. Oddly enough, her noisy neighbors no longer disturbed her sleep. She was somehow able to block them out and slept like the dead.

Her only problem with the night now was that it reminded her so much of her time with Etienne, which was wonderful and sad at the same time. She missed him.

A knock at her door saved Rachel from dwelling on Etienne and sinking into sadness and depression again. Pasting a smile on her face, she left the kitchen and walked down the hall to answer it, wondering which of her neighbors would be knocking at this hour. It was well past midnight, but no one had buzzed to be let into the building, so she was sure it had to be a neighbor.

Rachel didn't bother to check the peephole before opening the door. Her strength and speed had continued to grow in the weeks since she'd been turned, and she wasn't really afraid of anyone anymore. It was a new and rather empowering way to live. She pulled the door open and glanced out, then stilled briefly before stepping through the door and glancing up and down the hallway with bewilderment. She was sure she had heard a knock, but there was no one at the door. And there was no one in the hall.

“I must be losing my mind,” she muttered as she
stepped back inside and automatically locked and bolted the door. Rachel had turned and taken two steps away from the door when the knock sounded again. She stopped walking but didn't turn back to her apartment door. The knocking hadn't come from there. It was coming from down the hall, in the vicinity of the living room. More curious and confused than anything, she continued down the hall, and into the large, comfortable room, her gaze sliding over her overstuffed furniture before another knock drew her gaze to her balcony window.

Rachel gaped at the man who stood on the other side of her sliding glass doors, then rushed forward when he grinned and waved.

“Thomas!” she greeted as she pulled the door open to allow him in. “How did you get up here?”

“I climbed, of course,” he said with a shrug.

Rachel stared at him, then stepped out onto the balcony and peered over the edge at the front of the building and the six balconies below her own. She turned back to ask with disbelief, “You climbed that?”

“Sure.” He shrugged with amusement. “I like climbing.”

Rachel peered back down the building again. It wouldn't be impossible to climb, she supposed, if you were strong and agile and weren't afraid of falling to your death. All of which were no doubt true of a two-hundred-year-old vampire. Heck, give her a couple of
hundred years and she might be doing things like that herself.

A little laugh slipping from her throat, she turned back and led the way inside again. “Why didn't you just buzz? I'd have let you in, you know.”

Thomas shrugged again as she closed the balcony door behind them. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you succeeded at that,” she said dryly, then smiled. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“I wanted to wish you Happy Valentine's and invite you to the Night Club,” he said easily—but his words merely confused Rachel again.

“Umm…Thomas, Valentine's is in February. This is September,” she pointed out.

He laughed at her wary expression. “We don't follow the regular calendar all the time, you know. After a few hundred years you realize that Valentine's is whenever it is, and Cupid shows up when needs must.”

“Oh,” Rachel said uncertainly. She really didn't have a clue what he meant, but she was so happy to have company and the chance to do something on her night off that she decided not to question it.

She'd thought a couple of times about going to the Night Club on her own but hadn't had the courage to for fear of running into Etienne. Rachel was afraid she'd throw herself at him or something embarrassing like that. Or that he'd turn away from her in anger. Did he realize yet what he'd given up to save her? Did
he hate her? The fact that he hadn't even bothered to call suggested that he might.

“So.” Thomas clapped his hands together, startling her out of her thoughts. “Go get changed, Dudette, and we'll hit the club. It should be a happening place tonight.”

Rachel didn't even bother to think about it, just nodded with a grateful smile and hurried out of the room and into her bedroom. She was wearing the tight jeans Marguerite had fetched her from her apartment when she was staying at Etienne's. Rachel usually wore them on her days off; they were comfortable and comforting to her now, and reminded her of her time with him. She knew she'd eventually have to replace them but didn't look forward to the day.

She took them off now and donned a short tight black leather skirt she'd purchased recently in one of her weak moments, when she'd hoped Etienne might contact her. Rachel had hoped to wear it out on a date to drive him crazy. He'd never contacted her, however, and she'd let go of that fantasy. She had no desire to drive Thomas wild with it; he was nice, but Etienne had already stolen her heart and she doubted she'd recover for a long while. But there was always the possibility that they might run into Etienne. If so, she wanted to look her best. If nothing else, he would at least see what he was missing out on.

Rachel finished doing up the skirt, then whipped off the large T-shirt she was wearing, exchanging it for
a dressy white blouse that she tucked into the skirt. Then she donned sandals that would show off her newly painted toes and hurried into the bathroom to apply a little eye shadow and lipstick. After running her fingers lightly through her hair for a sexy, slightly tousled look, she squirted some perfume on her throat and wrists and hurried back out.

“That was quick. And you look
good,
” Thomas said with admiration as she rejoined him in the living room. “Let's go, Dudette. The night awaits.”

Much to her relief, he didn't head for the door to her balcony, but started down the hall to her front door. Rachel didn't think she was ready to start climbing buildings yet. She grabbed her purse and followed him out of her apartment, her step suddenly lighter. She liked Thomas. Not in the same way she liked Etienne, of course. But he was fun and made her laugh, and she knew he would make sure she had a good time tonight. An evening at the Night Club would be fun, much better than sitting around her apartment, moping over what might have been.

Besides, she might gain some information about Etienne from Thomas. He would know how his cousin was doing and what he was up to. Rachel was embarrassingly hungry for information about Etienne.

 

Etienne packaged the discs for Blood Lust II, addressed the label, and set it aside with a sigh. He'd finished. Finally, it was done. He stared at the enve
lope for a moment, his mind blank, then stood restlessly and left his office. He'd been working on the game nonstop, not allowing thoughts of Rachel to intrude and interrupt him, except for the night that his mother had come by to harass him. Now that he was done, however, his first thought was of Rachel. He wondered what she was doing as he walked upstairs.

Was she at work? No, he decided. She'd learned she'd been given the day job the night he'd turned her. It was after midnight. No doubt she was sleeping right now, tucked up nice and comfortable in a big warm bed, he thought, and felt longing rise up within him. He wished he was there in that bed with her. Of course, she wouldn't get much sleep if he were there. He wouldn't be able to resist touching her, caressing her—

Etienne killed his own thoughts there. Fantasizing about making love to Rachel wasn't the most productive thing in the world. Besides, he had more important things to do, like figuring out a way to approach her. He had decided his mother was right. He had to tell her of his feelings and find out what hers were. The only question was how he should go about doing it.

Etienne was halfway through the kitchen when the phone began ringing. He immediately turned to the door to the basement, then recalled that he'd had phones placed throughout the house when the repairman had been in to fix the one in the basement.
Turning back, he walked to the phone on his kitchen wall and grabbed it up to bark “hello?” into it.

“Hey, dude!” Thomas's cheerful voice greeted him. “Guess where I am?”

Etienne grimaced. The sounds of loud music and talk nearly drowned out the man. It didn't take a genius to figure this one out. “Night Club.”

“Got it in one, dude.” Thomas laughed. “Yeah, I'm here with this nuclear babe. You might know her. Rachel?”

“What?” Etienne stiffened, his fingers tightening reflexively around the receiver.

“Yeah.” Thomas sounded smug. “She wasn't doing anything. I wasn't doing anything…”

“Thomas,” Etienne growled. Cold fury rose within him at the suggestive pause.

“She's in the ladies' room now and doesn't know I'm calling you. If you want her, you better come on out here and join us,” his cousin said with amusement. Then, in more serious tones, he added, “And you'd better get it right this time, dude. I'm not playing Cupid for you two again. If you mess up now, I'm taking her for myself. Happy Valentine's.”

The click of the phone was followed by a dial tone. Etienne listened to it for at least a full minute as his mind raced. Thomas was playing Cupid. He was interfering again. God bless him, he thought, and slammed the phone down. Then he spent a moment dithering about what he should do first. He needed a
shower and to change his clothes. He had to shave. Dear God, he had a beard growing on his damned face, he'd gone so long without shaving. Maybe he should bring her something. Flowers maybe. Where the hell was he going to find her flowers at this hour? Why did everything have to close at night? Didn't anyone out there want to make any money? he thought irritably as he hurried out of the kitchen.

 

“You're a happening chick, Dudette!”

Rachel laughed at Thomas's compliment as she danced to the rock tune blaring at them on the dance floor. She was having fun. Really. Lots of fun. And she'd only thought of Etienne about two thousand times in the two hours that they'd been there. That was less than usual.

“I'm pooped, Dudette. Let's sit.” Thomas didn't wait for her agreement, but caught her by the hand and dragged her off the dance floor. Rachel followed without protest. She was enjoying herself but could do with a rest.

“Good, our drinks are here,” Rachel said with a pleased sigh as she dropped into her chair. She'd decided to be brave and let Thomas order for her again, stating only that he couldn't order her a Sweet Ecstasy. He'd ordered her an Ever Enduring. That hadn't sounded too risky. Still, she'd asked what it was, and he'd merely smiled and said she'd see. Rachel tried it
curiously, surprised that it wasn't bad. Not bad at all. She no longer needed straws to feed.

“Oh, look who's here.”

Rachel glanced up and froze at the sight of Etienne making his way through the crowd toward them. For a moment, happiness filled her heart, but then worry replaced it. He didn't look happy to see them. In fact, he looked rather irritable, she decided as she watched him walk the last couple of feet to the table and pause there to stare at her. She was just deciding that he had realized what he had given up and did hate her when he suddenly whipped his hand out from behind his back and held out a bouquet of limp flowers to her. Rachel stared blankly at the sad bouquet before reaching out uncertainly to take them. Her hesitation was obviously too long, because Etienne immediately began to apologize for their state.

“I wanted to get you flowers, but none of the flower shops are open at this hour. I checked six all-night variety stores before finding any at all, and this was the best of the—”