Vampire's Dilemma

by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  Shel went to the galley pantry. He took a bottle of whiskey out along with a glass and poured a drink. After the third shot he headed up on deck. It would be a long time before he slept.

  Chapter Three: I’ve Got A Flair

  Shel tied the dinghy up at the dock and headed for the charter shack. He didn’t expect to find much but maybe their pursuers hadn’t found the hiding spot where he kept his emergency money. Shel had learned long ago the wisdom of having several stashes of money in case things went to hell. It was beginning to look like it might be sooner than he’d planned.

  Inside he surveyed the destruction. Sergei’s goons had done a thorough job, right down to emptying the bait coolers. The stench of spoiled shrimp and dead fish made Shel gag. He kicked debris away from the wall and knelt beside the file cabinet. The baseboard came loose with a little effort. He pulled the trim away revealing the small hollow area it hid. Shel quickly transferred the neatly wrapped packet of hundred dollar bills to his jacket pocket. Habit made him replace the baseboard.

  The noise of footsteps on the wooden porch alerted him to the arrival of someone. He stood quickly. The front door opened. Shel gave a mental curse as a familiar figure stepped into the room. He pulled out a strong brown Turkish cigarette and lit it, waiting for the man to speak.

  James DeLong, private investigator and part time Werewolf, held a lurid crime scene photo out for Shel to look at. “Ava Romanov was pulled out of the surf two days ago. What was left of her anyway. Sergei Romanov has been following this woman.” DeLong held out another photo, Lucy standing at a table filled with junk. The garage sale. Shel cringed inside. How long had the mutt been watching the place? “We think she may know something about it. Last time anyone saw her, she was entering your charter business.” DeLong waved his hand to indicate the mess.

  Shel drew a deep drag from the cigarette he was smoking. He squinted as the smoke burned his eyes but didn’t take his gaze away from the photo of Lucy. “What makes you think I saw her, Werewolf?”

  DeLong shrugged, “A pretty woman comes into your business and you don’t notice? Get real. You have seen her haven’t you?”

  Shel kept his voice steady despite the fact his heart beat double time. “What if I have?”

  “We’d really like to talk to her.”

  Shel snorted. I bet you would. “Doesn’t look like she’d be hard for you to track, DeLong. You lose your sense of smell?”

  Delong gave him a dirty look. “Always the smart ass.”

  “It’s a talent. What is this all about?” Shel ignored Delong’s grin.

  “We think she has something of ours and we want it back. That simple.” Delong said.

  Shel shook his head. “Oh yeah? Well if I see her around here I’ll let you know” Lucy… The thought of her anywhere near angry Werewolves made him nauseous.

  “Shel…”

  “Gotta run pooch, busy, busy you know,” Shel said. He stalked out, heading for the parking lot. He ignored DeLong shouting at him.

  At his car, Shel stopped for a moment, thinking back to the beginning. He didn’t dare let himself hope but he knew it was useless to fight it. Lucy had already gotten to him. Shel got into the car and started it, his mind filled with memories of all the times he’d let himself believe he’d found the one to break the curse.

  * * * *

  Lucy sat down on the bunk, hugging the pillow to her. She buried her face in it. It smelled like the man who had turned everything upside down. Deep inside she’d always dreamed of meeting someone like him. Sheldon Jefferson had an aura of goodness about him. He might be rough around the edges but Lucy sensed a solid core of decency in him. Shel couldn’t have any idea what he did to her, the need she already felt for him. They’d known each other a little more than a day and he’d already taken up residence in Lucy’s heart.

  Nothing in Lucy’s life had prepared her for the things she felt when Shel looked at her. It was as if he was the missing half of her soul. The physical desire that rocked Lucy made what she’d felt for Keith pale in comparison. The guilt was almost more than she could bear.

  If only she could get away. Lucy wasn’t at all sure she was ready for this, but where could she go with people trying to kill them? Lucy put the pillow down and stood. She needed to do something, to move. Lucy made her way into the salon.

  * * * *

  Shel parked across the street from the hotel where Lucy was registered. People streamed in and out. It appeared to be a typical tourist hotel, nothing suspicious caught his attention. Might as well get this over with. He got out of the car and headed inside.

  No one so much as glanced in his direction in the crowded lobby. Once he arrived on the eighth floor, Lucy had said her room number was 817, he waited until the hall was clear then quickly went to the door. He swiped the key card Lucy had given him and carefully stepped inside.

  The room was thoroughly trashed. If the doll had been there, it wasn’t now. He picked up an old-fashioned white nightgown lying on the floor. He looked it over. It suited Lucy with its silk and lace and the fussy tiny pearl buttons. He brought it closer, inhaling deeply. Vanilla and flowers. A vision of her in the gown formed in his head. Shel’s mouth went dry.

  He swore softly. Lucy’s clothes were everywhere, even hanging off the mirror. Shel gazed at the pink lace push up bra that dangled from the light fixture for a long moment. He couldn’t decide which was scarier; the fact that he knew it was a push up bra or the fact that the sight of it gave him a raging boner. Reaching out, Shel lifted it off the lampshade and snickered, helpless to stop it. Even as a Vampire, he was still a man first.

  He took a deep breath and got himself under control. Well, time to get moving. After a quick glance around, Shel picked up the battered suitcase and began stuffing clothes into it. When he had everything, he did one last sweep of the room and left. On the way to the elevator, it dawned on him where the doll would be. Shel smiled.

  * * * *

  Shel heard the music a good hundred yards out from the yacht. Lucy had discovered the radio. Angry, he tied up and climbed aboard. Anyone could have come out there and been on Lucy before she knew what hit her. Shel stormed forward to where he sensed her. His anger died. Lucy stood in the middle of the deck in the sun, barefoot, dressed in a wrinkled sundress, swaying to the music. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The need stirred inside him.

  He slapped the radio off. “Come on, sugar, let’s go inside. We have things to discuss.” Shel turned and walked out before he gave in to the need and took her. Lucy deserved better.

  He heard her following and waved at the salon’s built in couch. “Why don’t you sit down, we can discuss this doll. And your Werewolves.”

  She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. If the situation weren’t so serious, the look on Lucy’s face would have been hysterical. “Yes, I said Werewolves.”

  “You believe me. Why?”

  “Why would I not?” Shel turned the question back on her. She made no move to sit.

  “Okay, come on,” He stood and took Lucy’s hands, urging her into the chair. “I think it’s time we had a look at this doll Sergei is willing to kill for. Tell me where it is.”

  With a deep sigh, Lucy reached for her purse. She began taking things out until the purse was empty. Shel’s eyebrows rose. He’d just seen everything in that bag the night before and there had been no doll in it. She gave the lining a tug and pulled it part way out then reached in and withdrew an object that reminded him of a short squat bowling pin.

  He resisted the urge to chuckle. She was a piece of work. Lucy held the doll out. Shel took it. The painted smiling face of a Russian woman in traditional peasant dress looked at him. It was heavier than it appeared.

  “It opens.” Lucy’s voice startled him. Something was different about her. Shel looked up, meeting her clear, untroubled gaze. His mouth went dry.

  Hurriedly, Shel put his attention on the doll once more. “How?”

  “You
twist it. There will be other dolls inside, usually five.”

  Shel tilted the doll to get a better grip. It rattled. He raised his eyebrows at Lucy in question.

  “I only opened the first one. I got nervous.” Fascinated Shel watched her blush, embarrassed.

  “Ah. Well, let’s see what else is inside.” He twisted the doll open.

  By the time they got to what he hoped was the last doll Shel was way past irritated. He started to open the smallest doll. Lucy put her hand on his and stopped him. Shel waited.

  “Be careful.”

  He nodded. Slowly Shel pulled the little doll apart. They stared at the contents for a full minute trying to process what they were seeing. The plain brass key with its plastic tag lay there glinting dully in the light.

  He took a deep breath and the scent of Lucy’s blood, her life, made him dizzy for a moment. The need clawed at his insides. Shel squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard, trying to get control of himself. The desire faded after a few seconds, replaced by relief. “We need to make port and pick up some supplies,”

  Shel placed the key into her hands, closing his fingers over hers. “Hold onto this, we’ll talk more later.” The breathless quality Shel heard in his voice shocked him. Then he turned and hurried up on deck. The fresh air would do him good and he wouldn’t be able to smell Lucy’s blood or hear it rushing through her veins. He threw himself into the captain’s chair with a curse.

  Chapter Four: Incense And Peppermints

  Lucy toyed with the locket she wore as she watched Shel sitting in the captain’s chair. He had a way of draping himself wherever he sat, a boneless grace and economy of movement, that sent her thoughts in a direction Lucy wasn’t sure she was ready for. Her stomach clenched and a wild sense of anticipation made her lick her lips.

  Shel eased the throttle back in a gentle caressing move of his hand. The boat slowed to a stop beside the pier. He stood and went to the rail, tossing a rope over to tie up with. Lucy shivered and the image of Shel’s hands on her body jumped unbidden into her thoughts. “It should be safe enough in port.” He turned and smiled at her. “I’ve made a few calls and Sergei is still looking for us in Miami.”

  Amused, Shel turned back to watch the man on the dock drawing closer. DeLong walked like he thought the water was going to reach out and grab him. Lucy walked up beside him. Shel glanced at her. Lucy nodded toward the approaching Werewolf. “Who is that?”

  “James DeLong.” Shel waved at the approaching man.

  “Who is he?”

  Shel smiled at Lucy. “You’re about to meet your first Werewolf, sugar.” Her eyes got wide and she turned to stare at DeLong who was just coming up the gangplank. Lucy edged back behind him. Shel’s heart gave a lurch. She’d probably have strong hysterics if she knew what I am.

  DeLong looked around with distaste. “Don’t you ever wash this boat, Jefferson? Smells like week old dead fish.”

  “Manners, Fido. Lucy, this is James DeLong.” Shel caught Lucy’s hand and tugged her from behind him.

  “My apologies.” DeLong nodded to Lucy.

  “James is a private investigator, sugar.”

  “You said he was a Werewolf.”

  “He is. You could say he has a nose for the business.” Shel grinned. He reached over and brushed his fingers over Lucy’s back. Her stomach fluttered and clenched.

  “You’re hilarious, leech. Why did you call me out here?”

  “I want to know what’s going on. And since you owe me a few favors I thought I’d call one in and let you explain.”

  “You need to come in off the water more often.” DeLong scowled at Shel.

  “I think I’ll go below and…dust or, um, something,” Lucy said in an over loud voice. Something was odd about their exchange, Lucy could feel it. She didn’t think she wanted to hear anymore. If she listened things might change her beyond what she could bear. Lucy all but ran for the steps leading down into the salon.

  Ahead Lucy saw the door to the tiny bathroom and hurried in, locking the door behind her. She looked at herself in the mirror over the sink, at the accusation in her eyes and the tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks. Covering her face with her hands, Lucy sat down on the closed toilet and sobbed. How could she have these feelings for a man she barely knew? It had to be a reaction to everything that’s happening Lucy rationalized. But that didn’t stop the tears.

  * * * *

  When Lucy disappeared, DeLong shot him a glare. “Real cute outing me like that. She might have believed you.”

  “I’m sure she did. She came to me with a story about Werewolves chasing her. Now what the hell is going on?”

  DeLong looked embarrassed. “Sergei has managed to find where Zeke hid the Book of Power. You know what would happen if he got the book. Or someone like Madeline got hold of it.” They both shivered.

  “But why chase Lucy?”

  “We weren’t chasing her.”

  “You had her picture.”

  “We have a lot of pictures. Some pretty interesting ones of you and the Helsing’s crazy assed wife, too. We’ve been watching his place since we found out he had the key to the book. Or he did until scary Ava sold it at one of her garage sales.”

  “If the Pack wasn’t chasing Lucy, then who shot up my place and trashed her hotel room?” It came to Shel even as he asked.

  “Madeline,” they both said.

  “Wonderful.” Shel rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me where Zeke hid the damn thing?”

  “Don’t see that it matters, there aren’t any descendants of Isabel’s still living to actually use the thing. Zeke put it in a locker at the Miami bus station.”

  “You’re kidding me. The Miami bus station? That’s crazy.”

  “What can I say? Zeke was more than a little senile.”

  They spoke for a few more minutes and DeLong left. Shel knew he’d report their conversation to the Pack leaders. He wasn’t worried. They knew he had no love for Madeline and very little use for the current Helsing. As far as they knew, Lucy was just a girl who stopped at a garage sale and had nothing.

  Shel stood and stared after DeLong for several seconds, then headed after Lucy. He had meant to tell Lucy she looked pretty in her simple white dress.

  She wasn’t in the salon and the cabins were empty. Shel stopped at the door of the head, putting his ear to the door, listening. He could smell her tears. He couldn’t hear anything but that could just mean she cried quiet. “Are we all right in there? Haven’t fallen in or anything have we?” Shel called to her. No answer.

  With a sigh, Shel pulled his penknife out of his pocket. He flicked it open. Shel inserted the narrow blade into the lock, giving it a twist. The lock popped open. He closed the knife and slid the door back. When Lucy looked up at him, her eyes were puffy and red.

  Shel opened his mouth to try to reassure Lucy but the shine of gold drew his eyes down to her chest. His words died unsaid. Unable to breathe, Shel stared at the gold locket lying against her breasts, nestled at the top of Lucy’s cleavage.

  For a long painful moment, he was back where it all began, in Isabel’s dressing room. He fastened the necklace and bent to kiss the nape of Isabel’s neck. He forced the memory back into the darkness of his past. “Where did you get that?”

  Lucy looked down and brushed her fingers over the ornate gold locket. “This? It’s been in my family for years. It belonged to my Great-grandmother Isabel. I’m named for her. Isabel is my middle name. Mama gave it to me just before she died when I was seventeen.”

  Sheldon squeezed his eyes shut, placing a hand over his mouth. The pain in his heart threatened to overwhelm him. DeLong had been wrong, there was a descendant and he’d bet Lucy would be able to open the book with no trouble at all. Isabel’s laugh came to him as if she stood in the room with them.

  “I used to make up stories about the pictures inside when I was a little girl. It has an inscription. I think it’s French. I always meant to have
it translated.”

  His eyes flew open. He glared at her. Lucy had a soft, sad smile on her face as she lifted the locket.

  “Mon amour impérissable. It means my undying love.” Shel looked away from her to stare at himself in the mirror.

  “How did you know…?”

  “Open it.”

  Shel listened to the quiet soft sounds of Lucy taking the locket off. He turned to face her at the small gasp when she opened it. Lucy stared at the miniature portraits. Slowly she raised her eyes to look at him.

  “You have her eyes. I had the locket made in the spring of 1733. We were lovers.”

  “How…”

  “I had the miniature of myself painted on a trip to Paris. I had the locket made in New Orleans to fit the miniature of my lover Isabel Devereaux.” He smiled wryly at the memory. “I gave it to her a few days before everything fell apart.”

  Lucy sat down on the bed. Shel hated the stunned look on Lucy’s face, the bright glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. He’d hoped never to have to tell her what he really was. Shel knelt, taking her hands in his. “Lucy…”

  “You’re a Vampire. That’s why you believed me about the Werewolves.”

  “I…Yes. I was a fool. Isabel had another admirer. When I found out, I thought I’d make her jealous and it worked for a while. She did not like me seeing her rival, Madeline La Rouge. When Isabel came back to me, I broke off with Madeline. Madeline did not take it well. When Madeline made me a Vampire, Isabel eased the curse as best she could. I…left. I never saw her again.”

  Lucy was silent. She lowered her gaze. Shel waited while she thought it through. His heart gave a painful squeeze when Lucy pulled her hands away. She looked him in the eye. “Have you bitten me?”

  Of all the things Lucy might have said that was the last Shel imagined. “No.”

  She nodded and put the locket back on. Shel left the rest of the information about the book and her ancestry for later. Telling Lucy her grandmother had been a Werewolf could wait. It seemed Lucy had enough to deal with at the moment without that.