“Yes they do.” If he concentrated he could probably make his image disappear, but the trick was more akin to mind control than to an actual physical effect. That was one of the vampire’s true strength. The power of the mind.
“So what happened?”
Her question brought his attention sharply back to her. “Something happened,” he said, waiting for inspiration.
“You look different.”
“How?”
She moved her hand to touch his belt briefly, but to his body’s disappointment drew it away again. “A sense of style for one thing.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Paris will do that to you.”
“It never did before. You spent enough time there with your mother when you were growing up.”
He nodded. “I never took much notice of fashion before. Paris meant different things to me then.”
She fixed him with an intent stare. “You’ve changed in more ways than that.”
Jordan said nothing, wondering what she meant. Except that he’d lost all hope of a normal life, and all hope of love. He’d turned his back on that and he hadn’t needed Sarah to tell him that he was a one man woman. This woman. “How?” What did his new status look like to an outsider? Someone who didn’t know?
“You carry yourself better, like you have more confidence. I’d say you don’t spend as much time on the computer as you used to. And you have better muscles. I felt them when you brought me here. You could never have done that before—carried me all the way up here. You’re paler, too.”
“Typical vampire?” he teased, knowing it was better to face the problem head-on. “Everybody changes, Karey.”
“Have you been ill?”
That was the inspiration. “Yeah.”
“What?”
He went with his instinct. “If I told you the name you wouldn’t be able to spell it. Hell, I can’t spell it. It’s a blood disease.”
She caught a sharp breath. “AIDS?”
He couldn’t leave her with that thought. That would be too cruel. “No. something rare and something I can’t pass on. Karey, I can’t give you children, I’m sensitive to sunlight, and I lose my strength if I don’t take my medication.” If blood counted as a medication.
“Will you die?”
He avoided outright lying. He couldn’t do that to her. “Everybody dies.” He lifted his head and gazed into the eyes of the woman he loved. He’d try to tell her what she needed to know without lying. “Karey, I can’t give you the things you deserve. Not any longer. I can’t work like I used to.” He longed to tell her the truth, but he couldn’t. It would put her life at risk if anyone discovered he’d told her, and Karey wouldn’t be able to resist investigating, putting her knowledge into practice. “I’m taking another path, and it’s not one you would be happy with.”
“Oh yeah?” The Karey he knew bounced back, putting up her chin in a gesture he found both admirable and adorable. “Try me. You never even asked, Jordan!”
“I can’t.” He drew his hand away from hers, but before he could stand up to leave, she dragged him back.
“Let’s see how much you’ve changed,” she said hoarsely, and put her lips to his.
It was too much. Jordan groaned, and swept her close, her upper body molding to his, even through the layers of clothes they wore. When she opened her lips slightly he surged in, taking her mouth and her senses, his hands restlessly roaming up and down her spine. She tasted like all the things forbidden to him now; sunlight and laughter, sweetness and life.
She didn’t try to pull away; rather, she curled her arms around his neck and thrust her fingers into his hair, sifting the short strands, drawing him closer. She leaned back and Jordan followed, tracing her waist with his hands, curving them up to stroke the underside of her full breasts, caressing her form hungrily. He was at breaking point. In another moment he would be inside her, taking what he had missed all these months.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take her again, and then walk away. If he ever allowed himself to make love to her again, he wouldn’t leave her. And he had to leave her; he had to give her back to life.
So he did the only thing he could think of. Still kissing her, listening to her delicious sounds of desire, he entered her mind again and pushed her into sleep.
He couldn’t bear to release her, even when she slumped in his arms. He held her, pressing small kisses to her face and neck until he knew she’d fallen deeply asleep.
It was hard to let her go, knowing he didn’t dare do that again. “It’s for the best,” he said, and stopped to tell her the truth, now she was too deeply asleep to hear him. “Everything I read about vampires and the paranormal blew apart in one night, mon amour. I don’t know who I am any more. Fuck, I don’t know what I am, either. I have all the powers I dreamed of. I can move objects, transport myself in space. I can enter minds, persuade and coerce. But I can’t tell you any of this. If I do, they will kill you. I’m so sorry, Karey. I hope you find the happiness you deserve, the happiness I wanted to give you once. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”
* * * * *
When she awoke in the morning, at first Karey thought she’d suffered a bad dream, a particularly frightening nightmare, ending in nearly unbearable sweetness. The reality hit her when she was in the shower, trying to inject life into her numb body. She’d slept dressed, except for her shoes, and woke up early, around five a.m. so she’d stripped and showered before going back to bed. After tossing around in bed, trying to come to terms with the events of the night, she got up and dressed, deciding on a simple t-shirt and jeans instead of her usual business suit. Karey used her suits as a shield, but Jordan had effectively barged right through, so their usefulness had ended.
She spent the time until breakfast writing an account of the night’s events, or at least the earlier part, on her laptop. She should have done this immediately. The realization that she was scared to go downstairs before anyone else was up galled her. Scared her out of her mind.
She’d finally experienced the strongest psychic event of her life and when it had come, it had terrified her half out of her wits. If she thought about that aspect of it too much, she’d block everything out, and she couldn’t afford to do that. So deliberately refusing to think about that, she turned her mind to Jordan’s actions.
He’d changed in more than his outward appearance. Jordan’s taste in clothes had always been doubtful to say the least. Now he wore stylish clothes, mostly in black, but clothes that showed off his lean, muscular though rangy form. Jeans that fitted him like a second skin, silk shirts and tight t-shirts that revealed every muscle on his powerful chest. Even putting aside his new fashion sense, last night she’d felt the firm bulges of well-defined muscle when he’d carried her to her room. He’d always been reasonably toned, but not like that. And instead of his usual diffidence, he carried an aura of power.
What kind of disease gave its sufferers that? Karey was a scientist, but knew relatively little about medical matters. She wanted to know what kind of condition would leave him stronger, more vital than he’d been before. And with better dress sense.
When the sun rose, she crossed the room to the window and watched the rosy glow over the horizon, slowly bringing a new day.
If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect him of vampirism, but she did know better. She’d seen him in the full light of day, she’d seen his reflection in the mirror and dinner last night had contained a high proportion of garlic. Even if vampires existed, which she doubted, but she made a point of never closing the door on any possibility. Vampires had always fascinated Jordan more than her, but she could hardly have spent time around him without discovering something. When she’d met him, she’d thought that vampires started with Bram Stoker, but far from it. They’d existed since the dawn of time, and legends about them were worldwide. The fact that stories about bloodsucking monsters existed independently all over the world did give credence to the theory that they existed, living
amongst, but separate from, the human race.
Jordan didn’t seem interested in vampires now.
She went down to breakfast when she heard someone else move in the hallway outside. Solitude had never bothered her before, but now she found she was glad she wasn’t the only living person in the old house.
Jordan and Didiane were sitting together in the dining room, consuming breakfast. So much for vampires, who couldn’t eat, by all accounts. The third strike effectively knocked that probability out of the field. Sunlight, reflections, and now eating. Not vampires, then.
Karey exchanged a smile with her nearly ex-husband but didn’t join them. The smile cost her dear, but she wouldn’t let him know how much she cared, even though the hurt amounted to a physical pain. Didiane’s suspicious glare didn’t escape her attention. She breakfasted lightly and alone, then went to the office to load her report from her flash drive to her main computer. She’d have uploaded the film she’d taken and her report to the cloud, but she couldn’t get very good internet reception in her room. All business today, she decided, lifting her chin as she strode through the door.
It was a relief to find she wasn’t alone. Bernard sat behind the large desk at his own computer. He gave her a rueful, charming grin. “Time to do the accounts. I try to update them weekly. Not my favorite job.”
She smiled in return and sat at the small desk she usually utilized. “Mine either. I just put the receipts and bills in a file for the accountant.”
“You have your own? It’s part of my job, sadly, until the hotel opens. But what might have taken the whole day a few years ago now only takes an hour or so. The wonders of modern science.” His expression changed when he saw her face. “What is it? What did I say?”
She shook her head to clear it of the terrible vision that flashed across her mind. Bernard, sitting in the leather chair, just for a moment took on the appearance of someone else. Someone she didn’t know, a beautiful black woman. A woman with Bernard’s dark, fathomless eyes.
No. Again, fear clutched her heart. She shook it off and forced a smile. “Nothing.”
“What did you see?” His face was intent, fixed on hers without his customary good natured expression.
“I—I thought I saw something,” she faltered. “No, it’s foolish. I’ve never had visions before.” Excitement bubbled up. But perhaps now she had. She worked to remember the features of the woman.
“What did you see?” His eyes took on an unfocussed quality.
“Nothing.” With an effort, she wrenched her gaze free of Bernard’s and took her time plugging in her flash drive. “I had a strange experience last night, that’s all.” And the vision could be a flashback to that, she recalled, disappointed.
“Really?” Bernard sounded more like his usual self and when she risked a glance at him, he smiled at her, the intent look gone. “Ghosts?”
“Kind of. It was a bit like a dream, and a bit like possession. I saw Thomas Sharman, and he thought I was Susannah.”
“You sure you didn’t dream it?” The lazy drawl smoothed over her like molasses. “It was late, you could have dropped off to sleep.”
“You’re probably right.” No he wasn’t. She hadn’t dreamed it, but there was no harm Bernard thinking that. “I’d like the dream again. That way I can ask him why he’s still here.”
“And where Susannah hid the necklace,” Bernard said. “Auguste had her journals.”
“I know, he gave me the key to the safe where he keeps them. I’ve read them, every word, and there’s no clue. But it’s a very sad story.”
“Tell me about it. It might keep me awake while I tap these damned figures in.” He sounded only vaguely interested.
Karey set off the recordings from last night, synchronizing the sound and the cameras to run simultaneously, but at fast speed. She kept an eye on the screen while she told Bernard the story of Susannah. “She arrived as a young bride and fell hopelessly in love with her handsome husband, even though it was an arranged marriage. Susannah brought land with her to enhance the estate. Belle Sauvage became one of the largest plantations in this area after their marriage. Thomas carried on whoring and working hard. All that mattered to him was the land, and making it the richest plantation in the county. Susannah grew increasingly fretful with the birth of each child. I suspect post natal depression had something to do with her condition. And her personality took on several different shifts.”
“Schizophrenia?”
Karey shook her head. “No, more like multiple personality disorder. She was always Susannah, but a different one to the one from the day before. She could be seductive, fearful, stupid, resourceful, depending on which aspect of her personality was most in control that day. Her journal entries get increasingly paranoid, and although the handwriting’s the same, it’s as though several different people wrote the entries. Thomas became increasingly worried. He thought magic might help. He made inquiries and found one of his servants, Camille Benoit had some knowledge of voodoo. Camille came indoors from the plantation to cleanse the house, and befriended Susannah, but began an affair with Thomas. There’s a heartbreaking entry in the journals recounting how Susannah found Camille and Thomas in bed together. The poor woman had no idea before that day of what her husband was really like.”
She broke off and pretended to study an object on the blank screen before her, biting her lip. Women were such fools sometimes, and she was no exception. She’d no idea anything was wrong when she’d kissed Jordan goodbye at the airport. Goodbye forever, as events turned out. She couldn’t seem to help the way she felt about him.
She leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the screen and carried on with the story. “She fell apart, wandering the corridors in her nightgown like a southern Lady Macbeth. Nobody knew if she’d be the seductive lady of the night or the aristocratic lady of the house. But through it all she was truly devoted to her children. That’s why I don’t think she killed them.”
“Do you think Thomas did it?”
She shook her head. “No, he wanted his heirs. Unless he thought they were tainted with Susannah’s madness, of course. There’s always that possibility. Thomas killed Susannah, but I’m not sure why. Perhaps for the Blue Star.”
“Definitely for the Blue Star.”
“I’m sorry?” She swung around in her chair to be met by Bernard’s bland smile.
“I’ve studied the case, too.”
“Have you read the journals?”
He made a grimace of distaste. “Too many of them. I’ve listened, and I’ve read. I’m a local boy and the legend is big ‘round here. Auguste use it when he reopens. There’s good business in ghosts.”
Karey couldn’t repress a shudder. “As long as the ghosts aren’t here any more. Auguste wants them gone.”
“You believe in them? Your equipment doesn’t.”
She stared at the blank screen. “It doesn’t, does it? Perhaps it’s not set right. I’ll have to go around and make sure they’re all working.”
There was a short silence, broken only by the tapping as Bernard worked on his keyboard. Abruptly he said, “Have dinner with me tonight?”
“What?”
“We’ll go to the city; I know a restaurant I think you’ll like. I’ll drive us in around seven. Would you like that?”
It would get her away from the house, and Jordan’s dangerous presence, but she had things to do that night. Resetting the equipment, for one. “I’d love to, but not tonight. May I take a rain check?”
Chapter Six
After showing himself at breakfast, Jordan returned to his room to sleep. He hadn’t got much rest last night, with one thing or another.
He paused, his hand on his doorknob when he heard Didiane calling after him. He waited and watched her stroll toward him, her slim body swaying seductively. She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder in a possessive manner that made him tense in anger. “Shall I join you?”
“No thank you, Didiane. I need to sleep.”<
br />
She chuckled low in her throat. “Oh you will sleep, mon cher. In a little while.”
Jordan paused. “I thought I made it clear to you. That part of our lives is over, Didiane. I don’t want a woman right now.”
“Not even Karey?” She pouted. “I can’t see why you want her so much.”
He tensed. “Who said I did?”
She smiled slowly. “I’ve seen you. You can’t stop watching her when she’s in the same room. Every sense you own reaches out to her.”
He shrugged, trying to emit an aura of casualness. “We were newly married when I was converted. I guess she isn’t out of my system yet.”
“Then have her.” She paused and pouted, long manicured fingertip pressed to the cushion of her lower lip. “Oh, but I forgot. You spent the night with her last night, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough?”
Jordan bit back his reply. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll have done with her by the time I leave.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her voice hardened, and for a moment Jordan saw the vindictive, possessive woman inside. Usually Didiane kept her nature subsumed inside layers of fashionable Parisian chic. Jordan had only seen her slip a couple of times, and he’d spent a lot of time with her since his conversion. Living with her had given him the insight he needed to make the break.
His feelings for Karey must mean more to Didiane than she was letting him see. He lifted an eyebrow in a deliberately provocative l’aissez faire expression, pleased to see the fire in her eyes, completely human, since it was daylight. “You still love her, don’t you?” Jordan shrugged and turned to put his keycard in the slot. “Look at me, fuck you!”
Slowly he turned his head to regard her with eyes as cool as he could make them. “Don’t tell me you care, ma petite.”
“You’re mine, Jordan Arcenaux. All mine! Your soul, your heart, your body, everything you have is at my command and never forget it!”
He left the card in the slot and turned his body to face her, waiting until he was ready to speak. “You haven’t been entirely honest with me, have you Didiane?”
Hosts to Ghosts Box Set Page 29
