The Vampires' Last Lover (Dying of the Dark Vampires Book 1) (17 page)

I decided right then to guard myself against his copious charms. He carried himself with such regality, and seeing Mercel’s similar infatuation told me this man must either be the owner of this vessel or its captain. I found it hard to picture a captain dressed like a jet-setting playboy, wearing an expensive burgundy sweater and tan slacks. I didn’t think the man’s Gucci shoes would be considered standard naval fare either.

“Who are you?”

“I am Racczis de Saint Germain.” He nodded his head in a slightly formal bow of greeting, while filling a plate with shrimp and caviar. He added a handful of crackers to the plate before continuing. “I am pleased to be your host, and you may call me Racco. Did you enjoy a good rest in the room that Chanson picked out for you? If not, I can arrange for better accommodations on my ship.”

“I guess it was all right. Is she the one who brought me here?”

“Yes, she and Garvan carried you on board in Charleston, South Carolina,” he confirmed. “We should reach our destination sometime Tuesday morning.”

“Where is that?”

A lump formed in my throat as I asked this question, immediately alarmed that not only was I already far from either Tennessee or Virginia, but moving farther away by the minute. I wasn’t surprised, though. Chanson had asked me to return to France, and made it clear that she and her vampire partners would override my initial decision to stay at the University if it became necessary. An all-out attack by the ‘others’ certainly qualified.

“We are headed to the south of France,” he said, motioning for Mercel to pour him a glass of red wine. “Would you like something other than water to drink, Txema?”

He pointed to the Perrier bottle I presently held.

“No. Not yet, anyway.” I was starting to feel a sort of desperate desire to make sense of what was going on and where I was. I set a large cinnamon roll on my plate and added a chocolate torte. I then added a few shrimp to make sure I didn’t throw myself into a sugar high followed by an inevitable, and painful, crash.

“I suppose there’s no way to talk you into taking me back to Virginia, is there?”

I could only imagine the extreme worry and pain my parents were suffering right then, as surely they had no idea I survived the previous night’s attack. I hadn’t checked my watch until that moment, and it read 1:17 p.m. eastern time. Judging from the sun’s position, it was a couple of hours later that afternoon in the mid-Atlantic. The fact I slept so long—at least eighteen hours by my calculations—was especially alarming.

“While I understand your concerns about family and friends in the United States, the decision to turn back is neither mine nor yours to make,” he said, his tone compassionate. His expression turned serious as he studied me, and then he sighed. “You are fortunate to be alive, Txema, and after the near extermination of the relatives who bear your rare gift, I am sad to say it may be quite some time before you can return safely to your home in Virginia, or pursue your education anywhere in America.”

I nodded quietly, determined to hide the ever-worsening dread ready to seize my heart. But, he was right… I didn’t need further evidence to understand the truth of his words. The images of Tyreen’s wounds and Elaine’s death more than sufficed—not to mention the other girls who bore my likeness that died earlier.

“Perhaps when Chanson and the others awaken, they will allow you to place a phone call to your parents in Virginia, eh?” he suggested, the infectious warmth from his smile illuminating his countenance and fueling his natural presence.

Despite the surreal nature of my situation and near death experience, and even the throbbing of my ankle, I was struck by the fact that Racco virtually exuded sex appeal. First Garvan, now this stranger? Did they all have some supernatural ability to stir such emotions, or was I just so hungry to have some sort of contact with the reality of the natural, physical world? I didn’t think Racco was a vampire; both his well-tanned skin and the fact he seemed unbothered by the sunlight streaming in from the clear skies implied as much. In any event I felt my body stir.

“That would be nice,” I agreed, trying not to think long on what it would be like to lie naked with this man who surely was old enough to be my father. “So, how bad was it?”

“How bad was what?”

“The attack. The one in Tennessee.”

“I’ve only heard the initial reports,” he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Thirteen deaths in all last night, and another two dozen were injured—most while fleeing the dormitory.”

“Massey Hall?” I needed to be sure we spoke of the same place.

“Yes, that is the one,” he confirmed. “Chanson told me that it was Garvan who urged her and Armando to stay close to you last night, instead of waiting on your promised call to them for help. I assume you know what she meant by this?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yes. I tend to be a little on the stubborn side.”

“No? You don’t say!” he teased, and motioned to my injured ankle.

“Okay, I’m known to be
quite
stubborn,” I confessed, and for the first time that day I laughed. It felt good, even if it only lifted my sadness for a moment.

“I wish I could tell you more about what happened, but that is all they told me when they arrived at the boat just before midnight.”

“They brought me to you?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Let us just say that we are very old acquaintances and we often perform favors for each other.” It seemed to me like there was something else he wished to say but he pressed his lips together.

He turned away from me for a moment and motioned for Mercel to help himself to some of the food. It seemed like an extravagance for just Racco and me, and even after including Mercel. Racco called the waiters over and invited them to join us, as well.

“I hate for all of this to go to waste. Dinner will be in just a few hours, and normally the staff eats earlier.”

The impish glint in his eyes let me know this was a playful jab at me and my late arousal that afternoon.

“You all are not vampires, correct?”

Silly question based on what I’d seen. Moving about in the daylight and eating solid food and non-blood fluids. Even so, I wanted to be sure. Besides, the real questions I wanted to ask, the ones involving the fate of Peter, Tyreen, and Johnny, would have to wait until the sleeping vampires awoke.

He laughed heartily. “Ha! That is
very
funny!”

Mercel and the two waiters, who both looked like Mercel’s younger brothers, seemed confused. Racco spoke to them in that strange French dialect again and the entire table erupted into uproarious laughter. All at my expense.

To be a good sport, I joined in, snickering at the silliness of my suggestion. Never in a million years would I have uttered anything like it just a week earlier.

“Maybe you could use some time to rest before tonight,” said Racco. “When you return to your room, you will find fresh towels and linens, in addition to a change of clothes waiting for you. Your size information was given to me by Chanson late last week to ensure your every need was expediently provided for.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I said, wondering how extensive the vampires’ and my current host’s knowledge of me was. “I could use a shower.”

“All right. Mercel will show you to your cabin downstairs, and we will look for you around eight o’clock tonight.”

After Racco spoke briefly in French to his assistant, Mercel led me downstairs. He allowed me to find my way back to my room once we reached the bottom floor.

Racco was right. In addition to the bed I slept in being made up, clean towels and the change of clothes he promised were waiting for me on top of the bedspread. I smiled for a moment, as the green silk blouse and black slacks were exactly the style I would have chosen for myself. Even the shoes matched my taste, although for quite a bit more money than I could’ve afforded on my own.

I continued to smile until I stepped into the bathroom and removed my sweatshirt. Under the overhead light’s soft glow, the twin teardrops along the left side of my neck were swollen and red. I’m sure at some point during the previous nineteen hours they were fully inflamed, and definitely the exit points for my blood. A vampire had drunk from me, no doubt, and taken far more blood than last time. Enough to leave two angry welts above my birthmarks, and keep me dead to the world until it was far too late to turn back and go home.

long, warm bath did wonders for my fatigue, and it helped ease the soreness in my ankle. That is, until I tried to stand on it.

I nearly fell over in the bathroom. Once I regained my balance and relied more on my left foot, I managed to dry my hair and get dressed without further incident. Just before 7:30 p.m., according to a large seaman’s clock on the wall across from the bed, a sharp knock resounded from the other side of my door.

“Who is it?”

“It is me, Garvan.”

“Garvan?”

“Yes. I am here to escort you to dinner,” he replied. “I assume you are ready to leave your room?”

I looked around me, just to be sure, and yes, he was correct. Even my makeup and lipstick were done, and I had already slipped my driver’s license and student I.D. into a small clutch that had been laid out to match the outfit.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I said, reaching for the door. I hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath before opening it. The image of Garvan’s gorgeous face and intense green eyes previously emblazoned in my mind proved to be an inadequate replica. Once I opened the door, I found him smiling at me, carrying a bouquet of fresh roses, blood red. Nearly two dozen in all.

“What are these for?” I asked, surprised and pleased. I felt my face flush.

“For you, of course,” he replied, his boyish face lit up by his enraptured smile. Somehow he looked younger. “Think of these as my apologies for the sorrow and terror you have endured since we first met, just five days ago.”

“It’s not like it was your fault,” I said, accepting the roses from him. “But I am touched. Who would’ve guessed a vampire could be so thoughtful?”

I hoped he saw my joke as a genuine lighthearted effort, and not the sarcasm I realized a little too late that it could be taken as.

I do it a lot, inserting my foot in my mouth.

“We are not all cold-hearted snakes with only one thing on our minds,” he quipped.

His smile was dimmer than a moment ago, although he chuckled.

“What, are we talking about sex?” I jested, closing my cabin’s door. I kept the bouquet with me.

“Maybe back in the time when Columbus sailed to your country that would aptly define my intentions,” he said, his smile widening to where his slender fangs were visible.

He seemed delighted that I tucked the roses across my body and held them in the crook of my arm opposite from him. He smiled at me and motioned for me to wrap my other arm inside his, and I drew close. I noticed the scent of cinnamon again, just like the last time we were close to one another.

“Right this way, please!”

We headed down the hallway toward the staircase, the coolness of his presence chilling me. I noticed heater fans hard at work now that the sun had gone down, although they were unable to keep a slight shiver at bay. But, what a couple we made at the moment. Him dressed in a beige turtleneck sweater, dark tweed slacks, and black dress boots, and me attired smartly beyond my normal means. At least the ship’s ceiling mirror near the stairs gave that impression. A vampire myth was also dispelled for me. They did cast reflections. Or, at least this one did.