My Vampire and I (6 page)

I started to hold out my hand, but he made no move to reciprocate, so I let it fall back to my side. "Is that your name or your attitude?" I asked, not smiling.

"Very funny."
"It wasn't meant to be. What d'you want?"
"Just to warn you about him."
"I know about him," I said sharply. "It's a little hard to miss."
"Not that. I mean what he'll do when ... when he's had enough."
Uh oh ... I didn't want to hear that. "Enough of what?" I asked, feigning naïveté.
"Enough of
you
, dummy."
"Hey!"
He moved closer, scowling. "Ask him about me, why don't you? Ask him about how he started to change me then changed his fucking mind!"

I could think of a dozen reasons why Marcus would have second thoughts about having this shit-head in his life for the next millennium and I'd only met him two minutes ago. Still, the prospect of being dumped after the initial bloodletting was not something I felt I would handle very well.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Do you know why he changed his mind?"
Wrong question. Kurt's eyes narrowed into a look of hatred. "Because of
you.
That's why," he spat at me.
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"Wait a minute." I held up my hand to stop him getting any closer with the spitting. "I only met him last night. You're telling me he dumped you this morning?"

 

"No. Three weeks ago."

 

Three weeks ago. When Marcus first saw me leaving the movie house. He dumped this guy after seeing me for the first time. I couldn't help but feel extremely flattered—and smug. I tried not to let it show on my face, but I must have failed, because Kurt's grew redder than a stoplight. "You son-of-a-bitch," he yelled, pushing me hard against the ab-machine's metal support.

 

"Ow!" I pushed him back, and the next thing I knew, I was involved in a rather unseemly fight, the two of us rolling about on the floor, throwing punches at one another, until two trainers leaped in and pulled us apart.

 

One of them, Bruce, I knew from frequenting the gym and passing the time of day on occasion. He looked at me in amazement, I think quite impressed that I had engaged in fisticuffs with a taller, heavier guy.

"
Dudes
," he said—he calls everyone dude. "You can't be doing this shit in here."
"I know." I refrained from yelling, "He started it!" like some irate queen, even though that's how I felt. "Sorry, Bruce. Won't happen again." Kurt, huffing and puffing, shoved a finger in my face.
"Don't say I didn't warn you,
bitch
!" And with that, he spun on his heel, and swept out.
"
Dude.
" Bruce's eyes were wide with shock as he looked at me. "What did you do to him?"
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"Stole his boyfriend," I said, picking up my towel. I left Bruce, and the other trainer, staring at each other, heterosexual disbelief all over their faces.

* * * *

 

The sounds of discord invaded my sleeping mind and caused me to become alert, although it was yet some time before I could rise. Kurt. He had found Roger and baited him, provoking him to anger.

 

I should have foreseen this and taken steps to prevent it. I was careless, and my carelessness had resulted in Roger being threatened by a stranger. He would, no doubt, have many questions for me when we met tonight.

 

Kurt just might present us with a problem that I could have avoided, had I taken care of him earlier. That young man could not be trusted to keep silent. I'd have to make certain he could not interfere again.

 

* * * *

Now, don't get me wrong. I wasn't happy about this confrontation with Kurt the Curt, but it wasn't going to deter me from meeting Marcus at Joe's Café at six o'clock sharp. In fact, I was eager to tell him what had happened and to hear his explanation. I only hoped that it didn't sound too shallow. You know, "Well I thought I loved Kurt, then I saw you..." That kind of thing.

Still, although Kurt had proven himself to be a first class asshole, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. To think 55
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you've struck gold in finding someone as fantastic as Marcus, to have the promise of eternal life and love within your grasp, then to suddenly get the old heave ho. That just can't have made his day. Well, I couldn't wait to hear Marcus's version of it all. The evening promised to be most interesting.

When I got home, I showered, buffed and fluffed for close to an hour, then I stood for a good fifteen minutes, gazing into my closet, wondering what I could wear. Something cool and summery, I decided, taking a pale blue polo shirt from its hanger. It might have been the first of November, but in Los Angeles, it's always summer.

Pale blue flatters the eyes, don't you know. Blue jeans and flip-flops—well, it
was
only Joe's Café, not the Ritz. Thus attired, I set off to meet the man I hoped was going to change my life forever—if he didn't dump me mid-change!

 

He was already sitting at the bar when I arrived, and I took a moment to drink in the sight of his noble profile. Was there any part of him that didn't achieve perfection?

 

He wore a dark red short-sleeved silk shirt, black jeans, and cowboy boots. He was nursing a glass of red wine, staring into the liquid with a moody gaze. I thought he looked more like a poet than a vampire. A gorgeous poet. One that would make Lord Byron look more like Richard Simmons. As I watched him, a young guy sauntered near him and leaned on the bar, posing for what he supposed, was great effect. Marcus turned and looked at him.

I seethed.
The guy smiled at Marcus. He smiled back.
I stood, fists clenched.
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The guy said something. Marcus answered.
The guy frowned, then walked away.
I allowed myself a smug smile.
He turned—of course, he knew I was there—and there was that smile, except, this time, tinged with some sadness.
Obviously, Kurt had gotten to him before me and told him what a violent and unbalanced queen I was, unfit for vampire-hood. He beckoned me over, patting the seat of the barstool next to him. "Hello, Roger." His voice was deliciously deep and husky. "I'm glad you came." "Did you doubt it?" I asked, matching his sombre mood.
"I sensed some apprehension on your part this afternoon."
"You did?"
The bartender interrupted us with a "What'll it be?" so I ordered a vodka martini, straight up.
"Did you sense anything else?" I asked, after the bartender turned away to fix my drink.
"An unpleasant confrontation."
"Did he tell you about it?"
"There was no need."
"Marcus..." I swivelled my barstool around so I could look directly into his eyes. I gulped. God, but he was gorgeous.

"This guy, Kurt..." I forced the words into my mouth. "He said you dumped him after you had initiated the change. That didn't sound like something you'd do. I know I don't really have any grounds for saying that—after all, I hardly know you, but somehow what he said just didn't ring true."

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He was silent as the bartender delivered my martini, then he slid off the barstool and took my arm. "Let's sit at that table over there by the window. I think we'll have a little more privacy."

 

"You look really great, by the way," I said as we settled in our seats.

 

"Thank you, Roger. You, of course, look wonderful—even without the gold sparkles." He smiled, and my heart went skittering all around my chest. "Now, about Kurt. I am sorry that he embarrassed you at the gym today."

 

"So he
did
tell you."

 

"Like I said, I didn't need him to tell me, but I called him when he got home, and asked him why he had confronted you in that way. I'm afraid Kurt is a very bitter boy. He feels I betrayed him, when in fact, it was he who betrayed me."

 

"So he lied about you initiating the change?"

 

Marcus nodded. "We had talked of it, but quite honestly, Roger, my heart was not in it. I had serious doubts as to his strength of character. He lacks a disciplined mind and, I hate to say this, he is extremely vapid and boring. You remember last night?"

"How could I forget?"
He smiled and touched my hand gently. "You remember in between our acts of love we conversed a great deal?"
Acts of love, not sex. I loved the way this guy talked. I cupped my chin in my hand and gazed into those emerald orbs.
"Roger, you do remember?"
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"Huh? Oh, yes ... very well. You never did finish the story of your life."

He chuckled. "As I told you last night, it would take a lifetime to tell. But that's the point I am making. You are interested enough to listen, and," he added, with a rueful grin, "to frequently interrupt and ask questions."

"Sorry. A bad habit of mine."
"An endearing habit, Roger," he said, covering my hand with his. "Kurt had no interest in me, apart from the sex and the chance at immortality." "He said you dumped him after you saw me leave the movie house three weeks ago."

Marcus shook his head. "Seeing you only sped up the process. I had already determined to end my relationship with him. I had not, contrary to what he told you, started the change. You see, I found out that he'd been seeing someone else."

I looked at him, appalled. "He must be nuts! Who could he find that would come close to competing with you?"
Marcus laughed lightly. "Not everyone holds me in such high esteem, Roger."
"Well, I do!" I looked around and lowered my voice. "I can tell you this, Marcus. I would never cheat on you. Never."
His eyes met the intensity in mine, then he smiled and said, "Drink up. I want to take you somewhere."
"Your place or mine?"
"Home."
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We stepped into the dark street outside Joe's Café. He faced me and held out his hands. "Give me both your hands, and close your eyes."
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Chapter Five
"Wow," I breathed when I opened my eyes and saw we were once again in his magnificent bedroom. "I know I keep asking this, but
how
do you do that?"

"One day, I will show you, and perhaps—well, we'll talk of that later."
He held me in his arms, his cheek on my neck, his tongue flicking at my earlobe.
"Mmm," I murmured, holding him tight. "I've been looking forward to this all day."
"As have I," he said, his lips tickling my skin, causing me to shiver with delight. "I am very glad you decided to meet me tonight."

"Wild horses couldn't have kept me away." I unbuttoned his shirt and slipped my hand inside, gently squeezing his left nipple. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."
"Why me? I mean, what made you choose me after seeing me just once, three weeks ago?"
He was silent for a few moments, then he said, "If I told you I had seen you in a vision, would you believe me?"
"I'd like to."

He held me just a little tighter as he continued. "Long before you were born, I hid myself from the world. Vampires do this every now and then. We live for such a long time, sometimes it becomes a burden we cannot bear, and we take 61

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refuge, remaining hidden until our minds are clear and we are able to cope, once more, with immortality."
His lips strayed over my cheek as he spoke. I clung to him, sensing his sadness and willing him to find comfort in my arms.

"During that time of my ... repose, I dreamed of finding the man who would bring joy to my existence, who would be strong enough and love me enough to share my life as strange and unreal as it is."

He fell silent again, and although I wanted to hear him say he had found that man in me, I didn't dare voice that hope.
For once in my life, I curbed my impatience and waited.

"When I re-entered the world, I carried with me the memory of someone—someone I did not know, had never met, nor even seen and yet, who felt familiar to me. As I said, this was a long time ago, but I have never forgotten his face.
Your
face, Roger."

I stared at him, speechless.
"The night I first saw you," he murmured, his lips close to my ear, "I felt your presence, long before I actually saw you.
Then, when I did, I stood transfixed, unable to believe my eyes."
"Yeah, I have that effect on guys all the time," I kidded.
"I'm sure you do," he said.
"I was kidding."

"I know." He took me by the hand, and we sat on the edge of his bed. "Seeing you there, laughing and talking with your friend Mark, I felt my heart lift."

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Laughing and talking with Mark. At least I wasn't slouching about, looking bored, and pickin' my nose.
He chuckled. "No, you were not."
I sighed loudly. "There's just nothing I can hide from you, is there?"
"Sorry." He looked so cute as he attempted a contrite expression. "I will stop reading your mind, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it's okay." I moved back into his arms. "This is all just so hard to believe. That you would have seen me all those years ago. I wish I'd had that kind of a dream about you."

He kissed my neck. "Actually, you almost did."
"Huh?"
"I was tempted to give you a vision of myself as you slept."
"You can do that?"
He nodded. "But I felt it would be cheating. I wanted our mutual attraction to be spontaneous—at least on your part.
That's why I waited."
Wow. "Can I ask you something else? Oh wait. You already know what it is, don't you?"
"Ask me anyway," he said, blowing a teasing breath in my ear.
"Well, I know this is your home—this incredible place—but just where are we?"
He rose from the bed, taking my hand in his. "Come with me."
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He led me out through the French doors that lined one whole wall, and we stood on a wide balcony, gazing down at the lights of the sprawling city below us. It looked familiar.

 

"Hey wait, that looks like LA," I blurted.

 

"None other," he said, with a light laugh. "Where ... did you think I had transported you?
Transylvania