Vampire's Dilemma

by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  As he walked toward Lucy, she crouched down to examine something on the wet sand. The way Lucy took pleasure in the world around her astounded Shel. In his centuries of life Shel had been with many women, hundreds of them, and he couldn’t remember one who was happy with simple things the way Lucy was. They all wanted fine dresses and jewels, cars and fancy houses, yet here was Lucy living on a small boat with him and asking for nothing. Shel shook his head.

  Shel didn’t understand it but she opened up a completely new world for him. He loved the way Lucy could sit and be quiet, as if just being with him was enough. If he’d had her in the beginning, things would have been different. They would have married and had children, he’d never have felt the need to visit women like Isabel. Shel would never have become the monster he was now.

  The sea breeze brought Lucy’s scent to Shel like an offering. His whole being seemed to relax. She was close, his inner self seemed to say, everything was well. Shel couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him.

  * * * *

  Lucy gave the colorful shell a nudge with her fingernail. It was empty so she picked it up, dropping it into the bucket with the rest of her tiny treasures. She rose up and saw Shel walking down the beach toward her. He was wearing the jeans with the ripped knees and the old white shirt he’d worn when they met, unbuttoned as usual. Lucy smiled, waiting for him.

  “You’re going to get sunburned out here,” Shel said when he got close. He shrugged off his shirt, and then slipped it around her shoulders.

  “So will you.” Lucy caught his hands, stilling them.

  “I don’t want you to…” Lucy stopped Shel with a finger to his lips.

  Lucy took Shel’s shirt off and put it over his shoulders, waiting until Shel slid his arms into the sleeves. “Compromise. Let’s go walk in the shade.”

  Shel smiled. “All right, compromise. Let’s go back to the boat.”

  “Not until I show you what I’ve found.” Lucy caught Shel’s hand and pulled him along toward the tree line.

  It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the shadows but Shel could see they were on a narrow trail. He slowed, tugging Lucy back toward him. She gave him a puzzled look. “Lucy, this is probably a wild pig trail. They’re dangerous, let’s go back to the boat.”

  “It’s not a wild pig trail,” Lucy said, her voice patient.

  “Looks like it is,” Shel shivered at the thought of Lucy being mauled by an angry wild pig.

  “Trust me, Sheldon.” Lucy looked into his eyes with that deep calmness that always shook Shel to his soul.

  He remembered asking Lucy if she trusted him enough to jump into the ocean with him even though she couldn’t swim. Shel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right. What did you find?”

  “Come on, it’s a surprise.” Lucy pulled him along.

  Shel kept an eye out for wild pigs, giant fruit bats, crazy cannibals, whatever. Lucy trusted far too easily, after all she trusted him. And he really wasn’t trustworthy at all.

  Shel followed Lucy down the trail with a bemused smile on his face and lustful thoughts in his head. The image of Lucy lying on the ferns, orchids in her hair, sprang into Shel’s mind. If it wasn’t a wild pig trail, they could make love right here. There was no one around for miles. Lucy looked over her shoulder at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. A white-hot glow began deep inside. The woman kept turning his world inside out and he kept letting her. He’d have to sit down and figure out why one of these days. If she let him alone long enough.

  * * * *

  Lucy led Shel up the foot trail. She stifled the urge to laugh. Leading him up the garden path, she thought with a mental chuckle. Lucy suddenly realized she had never allowed herself that freedom, never let go the way she did with Shel. Lucy smiled. He was too serious all the time and she was going to make sure he had fun. Like right now. The trail ended in the tiny clearing. Lucy stopped, stepping to the side to let Shel see what she’d found. He stopped and stared at it the same way she had.

  “Come on,” Lucy gave his hand a tug. He looked at her, startled.

  Shel followed her without a word to the little concrete platform. The metal framework was still sturdy. At first, Shel thought the white thing in the corner was some sort of weird cocoon. A few seconds of examination and he recognized the thing. Amused, he realized it was a hammock with mosquito netting hanging around it. So that’s where that old army survival kit disappeared to.

  “Happy holiday, sweetheart.” Lucy’s voice was a soft whisper in his ear that sent a tingle through him.

  “Holiday?” Shel’s mouth was suddenly dry.

  “Has to be one somewhere,” she ran a finger down his spine.

  “Uh…yeah…” Shel swallowed hard. Lucy was doing it to him again. Just when Shel thought he had his emotions under control. He had to stop letting Lucy rock him like this. Later, the tiny voice in his head whispered.

  Lucy slowly walked over to the netting, reaching up to untie the knot that held her sarong on.

  Steeling himself, Shel stepped forward and stopped Lucy, covering her hand with his. Shel felt the gentle tremor of her heartbeat. Each tiny shockwave traveled up Shel’s nerves into his brain, amplifying until it pounded through him

  Lucy gazed up at him, her clear green eyes that were so much like Isabel’s, her expression puzzled, questioning. The need rose up inside Shel, a crushing force demanding he take her. Shel closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. The dizziness passed. “Lucy…”

  “What’s wrong?” Concern colored her voice.

  A vision of Isabel in his arms, dead, rose up before Shel. He swallowed hard. “I can’t,” Shel whispered. He realized he was still touching Lucy, his hand resting against her warm skin. He jerked it away. “Forgive me.”

  Shel turned and ran.

  * * * *

  Shel watched Lucy. He’d built the fire when she wanted to stay on the beach after sunset. For the life of him, Shel couldn’t figure out what Lucy was doing. What the hell does she need sticks for? Lucy rummaged around in that horrible tourist tacky bag she called a purse and pulled out a bag of something white. She dropped it into his lap then pulled out a small pocketknife and pointed at the bag of marshmallows.

  “Open that while I sharpen the sticks.” Lucy opened the knife and got busy. She whittled the sticks to a sharp point like Shel had watched the old men do in earlier times as they sat in front of a general store and told lies to each other. Except Lucy stopped when the points were sharp and the men kept on whittling until there was nothing left of the wood.

  Lucy held her hand out for the bag. Shel gave it to her in silence, not trusting himself to speak just then. He watched Lucy skewer a few marshmallows on the sticks then set the bag aside on the blanket. She handed him a stick. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

  She scooted over to sit closer to him. Shel sat very still. She lowered their marshmallows toward the fire, her hand on his.

  “We did this when I was a child.” Lucy laid her head against his shoulder.

  Her gentleness shattered something inside Shel. He bowed his head and the tears he’d been fighting since they’d started the small fire spilled over to run down his cheeks.

  Suddenly Shel dropped his stick and stood up. He walked away into the darkness. He heard Lucy toss hers into the flames and hurry to follow him.

  Shel stood in the darkness, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He tried to stop the tears but they refused to even slow down. Lucy’s arms slipped around him from behind. She didn’t speak. Shel was glad; he didn’t think he could answer any questions just then. The way Lucy went on with life despite the things she’d endured and the weirdness trying to envelop her was too much.

  Lucy turned Shel around to face her, pulling him into her arms once more. “It’s alright,” she whispered.

  Shel shook his head. “These people want to kill us, Lucy.”

  She nodded as if it were the most common thing in the world to be chased
by killers. “Yes, I know they do,” she agreed, “but we aren’t going to let them. Shel, we can win. We’re going to win.”

  “You sound so certain. It’s not like the books. There is no Council or organization or whatever of Vampires to call for help. Hell, there’s not even that many of us around.”

  “There’s you. And me. It’s enough.”

  “It’s not. Even with the Pack’s help the odds are impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible if you love enough.” Lucy tightened her hold on him and rested her head against Shel’s chest.

  A chill swept over Shel at her words. He remembered Isabel’s pronouncement. The curse Madeline laid on him would be broken when Shel found true love. But what did that mean, what was true love? He wasn’t sure he knew. Shel pressed his lips against Lucy’s hair.

  Chapter Eight: Must Be Nice

  Shel stopped. The locket lay on the tiny nightstand like a challenge. Overcome by the urge to open the locket and see Isabel’s face again Shel picked the necklace up. For several heartbeats, he simply stared at the closed oval case. He heard Lucy doing something in the galley. She wouldn’t know if he opened it. Painful as it was he needed to do it. Shel pushed his thumbnail between the two halves and pulled them apart.

  Shel looked for the old feelings. They didn’t exist anymore. He tried to call up Isabel’s smile but saw only Lucy. Isabel had become a pleasant but old and worn memory. It was past time to let go.

  He gazed at the image of Isabel’s face. Shel heard Isabel’s words again, “Alas, I do not love you.” He let the bittersweet memory slip away. No, but your granddaughter does. Lucy is everything you never were. He continued to look at the tiny painting of the woman that had been the ultimate cause of all this. Silently Shel thanked Isabel. He would never have known Lucy without the events so long ago and he would have been poorer for it.

  “Shel,” Lucy’s voice rang out behind him.

  Shel jumped and turned. Lucy saw the locket in his hand. Ah, shit. “Lucy…” He mentally kicked himself. As he watched, all of Lucy’s shields went up again and she closed herself off to him.

  Lucy held up her hand, stopping his words. “I know its Isabel you want. I’m sorry I’m not her,” Lucy’s voice was soft, barely a whisper. She crossed her arms over her chest. Shel took a step toward her. Lucy turned, hurrying out of the room as he reached out to her. Shel heard the door to the deck slam. His hand dropped. Shel clenched his fist and swore before turning to punch the wall.

  * * * *

  Lucy stood at the tiny stove and stirred the spaghetti sauce. The expression on Sheldon’s face when he looked at Isabel’s picture froze her heart. She envied her long gone ancestor the kind of love that he obviously still had for Isabel. It was plain Shel had never gotten over their love. Lucy closed her eyes tightly, beyond tears. She grieved for what she could have had with Sheldon.

  All Lucy’s life the people around her had wanted her to be someone else. Lucy had suppressed herself for Keith, been the wife he wanted instead of herself. Sheldon wanted her to be Isabel. Lucy loved Shel but she would not, could not, make herself be someone she wasn’t again.

  Lucy saw the desperation, the fear, in Shel’s eyes when he looked at her. She saw the needy little boy inside him. Lucy sighed heavily. If only Shel hadn’t stirred up feelings she’d thought lost. Lucy thought she could handle it when Shel had told her he’d just end up hurting her. Now she knew she couldn’t. Best now she distance herself from him even if that thought made her feel like she was dying inside.

  Shel was coming. Lucy gathered her strength and turned. She’d be smiling when he came into the tiny galley. It didn’t register until she’d begun to turn that the footsteps came from the deck. The man behind Lucy filled the little cabin. Lucy opened her mouth to scream. The man stuffed a sickly sweet smelling cloth in her face. The floor went out from under Lucy. Her vision dimmed. Chloroform? She heard Shel shouting as if he was at the bottom of a barrel. The world went black.

  * * * *

  The sound of someone on deck set off Shel’s inner alarms. How the hell did they find us? Lucy! Shel ran for the salon. He saw the gun and threw himself to one side a fraction of a second too late. The first bullet took him in the shoulder. Shel spun from the impact. The second bullet hit him in the back. Shel hit the floor. He lay there without moving, blood pooling around him.

  Shel heard the men methodically searching the boat. They spoke quietly in Russian. He picked out a word or two here and there, enough to know they had not found the key before the darkness claimed him.

  * * * *

  The headache woke Lucy to the knowledge that she was blindfolded, gagged, and her arms secured to a chair. Lucy turned her head trying to gain some idea of where she was. What did they use for this gag? Her mouth tasted like month old used athletic socks. A wave of nausea sent a chill through her. Lucy forced it down. She didn’t have time to be sick; she needed to get out of there. Shel’s voice came back to Lucy, telling her how Sergei had probably tortured his wife and killed her.

  Carefully Lucy tried the bindings around her wrists. She could move a tiny bit but not enough to pull her hands free. A door opened behind her. Lucy stilled and waited. Someone moved around nearby. Suddenly the blindfold was pulled off, taking a clump of hair with it. Bright tropical sunlight seared her eyes. Lucy winced. Pain stabbed through her head.

  “I’m going to take your gag off now. Don’t bother screaming, no one will hear you.” The voice was soft, with a Russian accent. Lucy squinted. She could see the man’s shape silhouetted against the glare from the windows.

  The man pulled the cloth out of her mouth. Lucy grimaced. “Take this.” The man held a pill up to her mouth. Lucy shook her head.

  “It is only aspirin.”

  Lucy shook her head again.

  “I could force you.”

  Lucy turned her head away and ignored him. No way was she going to voluntarily take anything her kidnappers gave her.

  The man shrugged. “Fine. Enjoy your pain.” He walked away.

  “Where am I?” She was relatively sure Sergei had ordered her kidnapping.

  “You are at my cabin.” Another voice came from behind her. A second, older man stepped past her and went to the window. “Shame on you, Yevgeny, to let so much light in.” He reached out and drew the curtains across the big picture window. Lucy blinked as the room grew dim.

  “Why did you kidnap me? What do you want from me?” Lucy tried the cords at her wrists again.

  “Where is the key you found in the doll?” The man came to stand in front of her.

  She looked up at him, all innocence. “What doll?” This had to be Sergei. He looked mean.

  Sergei backhanded Lucy, rocking her in the chair. “Where is the key?”

  Blood trickled from Lucy’s split lip. “Where is Sheldon? What did you do to him?”

  “Your boyfriend is dead.” Sergei gently turned her head back toward him and almost tenderly wiped the blood from her face. “The key. What did you do with it?”

  Lucy shook her head. Sheldon is dead? She went weak. The news hit Lucy like a ton of bricks. Tears welled up in her eyes and Lucy blinked them back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The young man stepped up and said something to Sergei in Russian. Sergei frowned, said something back, then looked at her with cold eyes. “I will be back. You will tell me where the key is.” Sergei strode from the room. A chill ran up Lucy’s spine at his tone. She had no doubt, when Sergei returned her questioning would get much rougher.

  When the door shut behind the men Lucy bowed her head and let the tears come. Oh, Shel…I am so sorry I got you into this. For the first time since Lucy had lost her family she had let herself open her heart. Now she’d lost the one man who had ever made her feel truly loved and cared for. It was her fault Shel was dead. Pain worse than anything Sergei and his henchmen could do to her rocked her.

  Chapter Nine: All I Have To Give

  All was quiet.
The soft ocean breeze fluttered through the debris of the search, scattering the lighter bits. A piece of paper had stuck in the partially dried puddle of blood under Shel’s body. The late afternoon sun came through the salon and galley windows like fingers of light searching for something. A trio of seagulls moved about the deck looking for something to eat. The braver of the creatures hopped into the little salon. Cautiously it drew closer to the body, turning its head from side to side, examining this thing that might be something to eat. The other gulls followed their companion with querulous squawks. If there was food to be had, they would fight for their share.

  Shel’s eyes snapped open. In a blur of movement, he snatched the closest gull, sinking his teeth into the bird’s body. In seconds, Shel had drained the bird. He shuddered. Slowly Shel pushed himself up from the floor. The other two birds stood in the middle of the room. They stared stupidly as he approached. Less than a minute later, they joined their leader and became Shel’s first meal.

  He made a face. Gulls tasted awful but their blood was warm and they’d do for the moment. Shel looked around at the ransacked room. Lucy’s purse had been dumped and thrown to the floor. Shel smiled and picked it up, reaching in to tug the lining out. The key fell into his hand. He had no illusion about who had attacked them. Still weak, Shel made his way to the wheel console. He hoped Sergei’s men hadn’t thrown the satellite phone overboard.

  The drawers had been emptied and the phone lay just out of reach under the console. Shel swore softly and went inside to find something to use to retrieve it. The second examination of the destroyed room made him feel ill. Shel’s searching gaze fell on the tiny galley stove. A pan sat on one of the burners with a wooden spoon resting in it. Lucy had been making spaghetti. He blinked back tears. Forcing himself back to the job at hand, Shel got the spoon. One of their attackers had turned off the burner. Shel was grateful for that. When he managed to snag it, he dropped the spoon and opened the phone, dialing the one person he knew would help.

  DeLong answered on the third ring. “What?” He sounded surly. The Werewolf must have been curled up in the sun for a nap.