The Vampires' Last Lover (Dying of the Dark Vampires Book 1) (21 page)

I nodded politely, wondering what new revelations would be forthcoming from Chanson, whom I could tell had taken upon herself the role of my protector. Again making me think of her as the older sister I never had. Part of that comforted me—as strange as all of this was at this point. But, as I sat there, thinking about the tension between Racco and Garvan, and the journey to their homeland that would be completed sometime before the next day’s nightfall, I felt alone again—more than at any point I could recall since my life spiraled into chaos.

The distractions of being the center of attention for the immortal undead, and the romantic focus for the even rarer immortal human were simply thin veneers that couldn’t erase the family and friends I had lost, possibly forever. In a snap, all of my worries returned to me in full force, and I felt trapped and lost.

I took a few small club sandwiches and ate quickly. Then I grabbed another glass of wine and nodded to Chanson, letting her know I was ready to hear what she had on her mind.

“Come with me.” She stood up from the table and motioned to the others to stay behind. “Join me for a walk on the deck.”

“Should I grab my coat?” I asked, thinking winter in the Atlantic couldn’t be any warmer than winter back home.

“No. It shouldn’t take that long,” she assured me.

The random thought suddenly flew into my mind that maybe she would suck me dry and toss my blood-less corpse overboard.

“You are such a silly girl, sometimes, Txema!” she chuckled as she led the way outside. “Why would I possibly harm the last link between my kind and the elixir of eternal youth and beauty?”

She laughed heartily. A stiff frozen breeze embraced us, far colder than her presence. I wouldn’t last outside of the yacht’s protective warmth for long. The deck swayed noticeably, forcing me to grab the handle to the door we had just exited with my free hand. The brass felt especially frigid, sending deepening pain through my fingers.

“Hold on to me instead,” she said, offering her arm for me to grasp onto.

She seemed like a statue with a lead base, unmovable, despite the ship’s reckless speed through the darkness. If not for the recent knowledge I’d gained about vampires’ supernatural abilities, I would’ve been terrified. I clutched her arm and held on for dear life.

“You and I are not so different,” she said, her long dark hair billowing around her face.

Her luminous eyes flashed with acute excitement. In the glow from a nearby lamp, they seemed even brighter than I’d recalled seeing before. Perhaps they were accentuated by the paleness of her skin. Even so, I had no doubt that most males—alive or not so much—would find her beauty extremely compelling. She had added a dash of makeup that night, accentuating her lashes and eyebrows with a touch of mascara, as well as adding blush to her cheeks and lipstick to her otherwise bluish lips.

“How do you mean?” I asked, certain her comment wasn’t a reference to her ancestry to me.

“As I told you, long ago I was once where you are now,” she said, pausing to look out into the darkness surrounding us. “I was young, like you, when Gustav came to me. It was the last time a crisis like the one we find ourselves in now happened. I had seen him before. I recalled waking up in the middle of the night on several occasions, with a slight pain in my neck above the birthmark you and I share. I would catch a glimpse of a handsome man leaving by way of my window.”

She paused for a moment, and the way she studied me told me that she was allowing me a moment to search my own memory for such experiences. I was about to shrug my shoulders to let her know I had nothing to add to what she told me. But, then I remembered something…an image of a young woman who would sometimes show up in my room late at night—often following a nightmare of falling off a cliff into a pit of sharp wooden spikes. Most the time, I ended up running into my parents’ bedroom, screaming from the nightmare. I scarcely recalled the pinprick pain in my neck, but I knew it felt familiar the first night Garvan visited me.

“Yes, it is the same for all of us who share the twin tears on our throats,” she said. “I can tell by your shivers that we only have another minute out here where we can talk like this. So, I will try to be quick with what you need to know now, and the rest will have to wait until we can afford a longer visit.”

I nodded enthusiastically since I was freezing my ass off. It occurred to me that reading a human’s thoughts must be related to close proximity, since when I glanced through the nearest window I could see everyone else on the ship remained gathered at the table, although Garvan stared intently in our direction. He looked both perplexed and frustrated.

“You will be given the same choices that I had long ago,” she continued, once she had my full attention again. “Follow your heart at that moment. Immortality is yours to decree with whatever decision you make—whether it is your immortality or another’s. Just don’t let Racco sully your mind and heart. Your entire being must be lucid when the moment of truth comes for you.”

“When will that happen?” I asked, after nodding thoughtfully. I knew the likely locale for this decision would be somewhere in France. Would it happen quickly, or were there more pieces to this crazy puzzle that had to fall in place first?

“Not as soon as we reach our destination, but certainly not long after you get settled in your new home.”

“In the castle?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Gustav will share more about this tomorrow night when you meet him and the others who are waiting anxiously!”

“So, we will reach France tomorrow?”

“Yes, we are only a few hundred miles from the mainland now and should reach our docking point sometime in the morning,” she said. “Whether or not we will wait until dusk to make the trip into the mountains, to reach the castle, has not yet been determined. It depends on Customs and on other developments going on among the European vampires. I will share more once I know for sure what is happening.”

She turned back toward the door leading me into the dining room of the ‘Blue Antoinette.’ I stopped before going in and turned back to face her.

“Do you know what became of my friends back in Tennessee? Especially Peter and Tyreen?” I asked, “I’m really worried about them.”

“I understand your fears for their welfare,” she said. “You want assurance they are okay? I will tell you this: they are both safe and doing fine. You will soon see them again.
Very
soon.”

hanson’s words proved cathartic for me, and I had no idea the tremendous comfort and relief I would feel from what she said. Almost immediately, the overwhelming exhaustion from everything I had gone through hit me full force. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open, and much worse than the night before. I had become a queen-sized party-pooper.

Needing time alone, I walked myself back to my cabin. Surprised I even lasted until shortly after ten o’clock, I laid down on the bed. Intending to rest just a moment and then go wash my face and brush my teeth, I didn’t wake up until almost noon the next day.

It was Tuesday, exactly one week after my initial encounter with a vampire.

Before taking a shower, I peered through the window blinds, thinking we must be drifting since the ship’s engines were silent. But, the ship wasn’t drifting. It sat motionless.

I gasped in surprise. A beautiful coastline sprawled before me, featuring a mixture of French and Spanish-styled buildings. Sailboats surrounded us beneath a cloudless sky, skimming along much bluer water than what I’d seen the past few days.

I assumed we had arrived in France and were floating less than a half-mile away from that nation’s shore.

I could hardly wait to set my feet on solid ground again. Yet at the same time, that same prospect brought a dire sense of finality. It was as if whatever I was then, or more like
who
ever I was at that moment, would soon change forever. There would be no way to get back to the person I was before my forced trans-Atlantic journey began.

I thought about my family and how many times we had talked about visiting France, to return to Grandma Terese’s childhood home. We always found some reason or another not to follow through with an actual trip overseas.

“But, I’m here now,” I whispered to myself, trying focus on something other than sadness, since I missed them all terribly.

I glanced around the room looking for familiar items from the past few days to distract myself. Somehow, another complete change of clothes had been laid out across a chair just inside the door to my cabin. Unlike the other night, when elegance was the choice made for me, this time my outfit consisted of brand new jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt, not unlike the ones in my wardrobe back on campus that bore the UT insignia.

I showered and took a little longer getting ready than yesterday, hoping that Racco’s offer to join me for some afternoon fun was still a possibility. I needed an effective distraction to get past the emotional war going on within me. If Peter was here, I’d have insisted on time alone with him. But, he wasn’t. It could be a long time—if ever—before we saw each other again, despite Chanson’s assurances.

That was my rationale right then. However, a ship not moving didn’t necessarily mean we had a skipper with idle time on his hands—certainly not the kind of idle hand time I was hoping for. In all likelihood, plans were already being finalized for our move to dry land, with a caravan up into the Southern Pyrenees the top priority of the ship’s crew.

A knock resounded at my door soon after I finished blow-drying my hair.

“Who is it?”

“Mademoiselle Ybarra?”

It sounded like Racco’s assistant, Mercel.

“I’ll be right there!” I rushed to finish my makeup and grab my shoes and, unlike last night, a jacket. “Coming!”

“It’s all right, ma chére,” the owner of the voice replied. Apparently, there were people on the yacht who did speak and understand more English than I gave them credit for. “Racco would like you to join him upstairs for lunch.”

When I opened the door, I did find Mercel waiting for me. I wanted to ask him why he hadn’t previously addressed me in English. It irritated me how he acted clueless when I spoke English before. But, that question would have to wait. He walked ahead of me, briskly, leading me to the stairs I was well familiar with by then.

“We will unload the ship within the hour,” he called back to me.

By the time I caught up to him upstairs, he and the rest of the crew were gathered at a table near the window facing the scenic view I had glimpsed from my cabin window. Mercel introduced me to the others—all of whom spoke perfect English—that included two males I had not seen until then. Hearing them all speak so casually and in my native tongue was quite unsettling, and made me wonder again why in the hell they had gone through such a charade of acting like they only understood French the past two days. I was about to upbraid everyone for the bullshit at my expense, when I heard Racco’s booming voice enter the room from behind us.

“Txema! You are such a vision in even the most mundane attire, are you not?”

He laughed merrily, and just like that, my anger melted away. Well, maybe it didn’t completely. He was dressed similar to the others and me, in a sweatshirt and jeans. But, unlike the oversized shirts the rest of us had on, his was form-fitting. Hard to know if it was on purpose or not, but the effect was the same. I couldn’t help but smile lovingly.