About a Vampire

by Lynsay Sands

  Justin was smiling widely at the thought, when he noted that Dante was looking at him with one eyebrow raised dubiously.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” the other man said and took a fourth bag of blood from him to replace the one Holly was tearing away. “Nothing at all.”

  Justin frowned at him, then set the remaining bag on the table and turned to start searching the kitchen. They hadn’t bought any fish when they’d been shopping, but with any luck, Jackie and Vincent might have some in the freezer or something. They were newly mated and both ate and he’d been here before and knew they had a huge freezer. Surely they’d have at least one fish in it, he hoped. He needed a cookbook too, though, or a computer so that he could find a recipe. Something gourmet, he thought, his mind planning feverishly.

  Nine

  A loud crash came muffled from the back of the house and Holly tore her gaze from the action movie Dante and Tomasso had put on the television to glance toward the door to the hall. Her instinct was to go see if Justin was all right or needed any help, but he’d turned her away the last three times she’d checked on him after such sounds, so she remained where she was seated and forced her gaze back to the television. The man was determined to cook a meal for them and had refused all offers of assistance. But the crashes and bangs coming from the room were a bit alarming. It sounded like he was pitching pots across the kitchen or something. The curses that had occasionally sounded were no more encouraging and she suspected the meal was going to be a complete mess.

  Biting her lip, Holly glanced toward the door to the hall again. It had been just after ten P.M. when she’d woken up, well past dinnertime . . . and Justin had been working in the kitchen for what seemed like hours now. It had to be after midnight. She’d been absolutely starved when she’d woken, but enough time had passed that her hunger had turned to nausea now. As a diabetic she had always had to eat on a strict regimen. Skipping meals had not been allowed, so she was not used to it. That thought made her glance to Gia who was seated on the couch next to her.

  As if sensing her attention, the woman turned to her in question.

  Holly hesitated and then said, “I haven’t tested my blood since . . .”

  “You are no longer a diabetic,” Gia assured her solemnly. “The nanos will have repaired your system, removing all illnesses or lack in your system. You will no longer need to test your blood or take insulin anymore.”

  Holly stared at her as those words drifted around inside her head. No more shots of insulin, or poking her fingers to test her blood sugars. No more watching every little thing she ate, or strict regimens for mealtimes. She was normal.

  Normal, she thought faintly, and the concept was sweet. Like other ­people, she could now eat what and when she wanted. She savored that thought for a moment, until it occurred to her that she wasn’t really normal at all. She had to have blood now instead of insulin, she reminded herself and frowned.

  In truth, Holly supposed she’d traded in one ailment for another. Instead of not producing enough insulin, her body now could not produce enough blood to support the nanos that had invaded it. Instead of taking insulin shots, she had to take in blood, either intravenously or through her teeth.

  While teaching her how to recognize the difference between a hunger for food and the hunger for blood, Dante and Tomasso had said she could even drink blood if necessary and that immortals without fangs did that. The thought of drinking it, though, was terribly unappealing. Holly wasn’t sure why that was, when she’d nearly attacked her husband and then Justin both twice in search of the tinny substance. It certainly hadn’t seemed unappealing then. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t like she’d been imagining biting their throats and allowing their warm blood to flow over her tongue and down her throat, she thought now. Actually, she wasn’t even sure that would have happened if she’d bitten them. Certainly, she didn’t get any blood in her mouth when she bit the bags. Her new fangs seemed to suck it up like straws without her ever having to taste it.

  So . . . she was no longer diabetic, but still not normal.

  “I have lived a long time, Holly,” Gia said suddenly, her voice soft so as not to prevent Dante and Tomasso from being able to hear the television. “And if there is one thing I have learned in all that time, it is that no one is this supposed normal you are thinking of. Everyone is a different creature with different flukes or tics whether they are physical or mental.” She paused briefly, and then grinned and added, “Besides, this normal thing is like sanity, it’s vastly overrated. Embrace your differences, they make you who you are and I like you.”

  Holly smiled faintly, and then glanced to the door at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

  “Dinner is ready,” Justin announced when her gaze found him in the doorway.

  Her eyes widened as she peered at the man. His face was flushed, his hair disheveled as if he’d been running his hands repeatedly through it, and his clothes were splattered with various foodstuffs. But he also had an air of banked excitement about him. He was obviously eager for them to see the results of his hard work.

  “Well, great,” Holly said with a smile as she got up. “I’m beyond starved.”

  There were rumbles of agreement from Dante and Tomasso as they turned off the television and stood as well, though she couldn’t help noticing that they were a little less enthusiastic than her. Still, they were playing along and even Gia got up to follow Justin to the kitchen, though Holly knew the woman was old enough that she no longer bothered much with food.

  A heavy curry scent hit her as Justin opened the kitchen door and Holly’s stomach, already nauseous, rebelled somewhat. Swallowing, she assured herself that her stomach would settle once she had something in it, and moved to the table to peer over it curiously. Justin had gone all out, using what she guessed was their hosts’ good china and even folding napkins into fancy little figures she suspected might be birds. There were candles and covered warming plates and it looked amazing.

  “Sit, sit,” Justin said, releasing the door once Gia and the boys followed her in. He rushed forward to pull out a chair for her.

  Holly settled in the chair, murmuring a thank-­you as he eased it forward, but she was mostly concentrating on breathing slowly in and out through her mouth rather than her nose in the hopes of easing the nausea roiling through her stomach. It wasn’t that the food smelled bad, it was just that she was so nauseous with hunger she wasn’t handling the spicy smells assaulting her.

  She really should have had another apple or something while they’d waited for Justin to finish cooking, Holly thought unhappily. He had gone to so much effort and was obviously excited, acting like a kid who had made something for his mother in art class and was presenting it, eager for her reaction.

  “It all looks beautiful,” she praised, and that was certainly true. Crystal wineglasses sparkled in the candlelight, and the silver covers on the serving dishes in the center of the table gleamed.

  “Wine,” Justin announced, picking up an already open bottle with a flourish and pouring some into her glass.

  Holly bit her lip to keep from refusing the offering. She didn’t care for wine. The taste had never appealed to her, which was a good thing since she always seemed to get a shooting pain at the base of her skull with the first sip or two when she drank it. Still, she smiled her thanks to Justin and picked up the glass as if to drink from it, but then merely held it until he moved on to pour wine for Dante and Tomasso as well. Setting the glass back then, she swallowed and continued to breathe slowly in and out to manage her nausea as her gaze moved curiously to the covered serving plates.

  Justin had refused to say what he planned to make for dinner, insisting that it was to be a surprise, but there were three covered dishes on the table, a basket with buns, and a large bowl of a mixed salad. The sight of that cheered her. If nothing else, she could eat the buns and salad to get so
mething in her stomach and ease her nausea before moving on to trying whatever it was he’d cooked for them.

  “There we are,” Justin said drawing her attention back to him as he finished off by pouring wine into his own glass and then set the bottle aside. “Now, for the pièce de résistance.”

  Like a magician performing an amazing trick, Justin grasped the silver cover on the largest serving dish, which was right in front of Holly, and whisked it off with a grandiose gesture bursting with pride and expectation.

  Holly stared . . . and their dinner stared back. What he had uncovered was some sort of very large fish, roasted and covered with lemons and what appeared to be julienned green onions. There was even what might have been a clove of garlic or something similar protruding from its gaping mouth. Its still present mouth in its still present head. It also still had its skin and fins. Holly’s already roiling stomach rebelled and she jumped up from the table, heaving as she rushed out of the room, desperate to find a bathroom before she tossed up whatever she did have in her stomach. Mostly bile, with a ­couple of chunks of apple, she was sure.

  “I don’t think she likes fish,” Dante said into the silence.

  Justin tore his gaze from the door Holly had just disappeared through and peered at the man with blank dismay. “But she does. She likes fish. Anders said so.”

  “Hmmm,” Dante said, and exchanged a glance with his twin that made Justin frown.

  Gia distracted him from wondering about that look by suggesting gently, “Perhaps she is not used to it being served with the head and tail still attached. It was quite common a ­couple hundred years ago, but is less so now.”

  Justin sagged at that observation; all the excitement and eagerness he’d been swimming in as he’d set the table and laid out his offerings were now dust in his mouth. He’d made the woman sick, for God’s sake. They could all hear her retching in the bathroom up the hall.

  He dropped the cover back on the fish, then turned and headed out of the kitchen. The guest bathroom was halfway up the hall. Justin paused outside of it, listened briefly and when the retching paused, asked, “Holly? Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” There was a good cheer in her tone that he was quite sure was forced.

  Justin sighed and leaned his head against the doorjamb. “I’m sorry. I guess I should have made something else.”

  “No, no,” she said quickly through the door. “I just . . . er . . . have a tummy bug or something. It looked . . . er . . . lovely. Really.”

  Yeah, and if he bought that, she had a bridge in the swamps of Florida that she could sell him too. The woman was a terrible liar, he thought and then stepped quickly back when the door opened.

  Holly stepped out, face pale and hair disheveled, but a stiff smile pinned to her face. “You go back and enjoy your meal. I think I’ll just go lie down until my tummy settles.”

  Justin remained silent and simply watched her walk away up the hall until she disappeared upstairs. Then he turned and moved slowly back to the kitchen.

  “It’s good,” Tomasso announced when he entered the room.

  Justin glanced to the table to see that the twins had split the fish down the middle, each taking half. They’d also piled their plates with the curried rice and brussels sprouts he’d made as well and were demolishing it all.

  “It is good,” Dante assured him. “We left the head for you.”

  Justin peered at the head still on the platter and then just turned around and walked out again. All that work and the twins would have it gone in seconds . . . and Holly hadn’t touched a bite of it.

  “Bricker?”

  Pausing halfway up the hall, he glanced over his shoulder to see Gia walking toward him.

  “It all looked very impressive,” the woman said quietly, patting his arm as she reached him. “And you obviously worked hard. I’m sure she appreciated that.”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t sensing a lot of appreciation as she hung over the toilet,” he said wearily.

  She smiled sympathetically and shrugged. “I suspect she just is not used to her food looking back at her.”

  Justin shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose I should go back in and start cleaning up. I made a hell of a mess in the kitchen and—­”

  “I’ll do that,” Gia interrupted. “Why don’t you go pick up some subs or something and take one up to Holly? I’m sure she’d like that. She was so hungry she was nauseous while we were waiting for you to finish.”

  “Was she?” he asked with surprise.

  Gia nodded and then pointed out, “That probably did not help.”

  “No,” he agreed, a little relieved that it might not have been all down to the meal he’d made. “Subs, huh?”

  Gia nodded. “Or something else if you like. I just said subs because the boys like those second only to pizza, and if you got pizza they might—­”

  “Eat it all on us,” Justin suggested with wry amusement when she hesitated.

  Grinning, she nodded and then said with a shrug, “They are big boys.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed dryly. “I’ll have to keep that in mind the next time I cook.”

  “Good thinking,” she commented.

  Nodding, he started away, then paused and turned back to hug her, offering a soft, “Thanks.”

  “For what?” she asked with surprise.

  “The suggestion,” Justin said as he straightened. “And the encouragement. I appreciate it. This life mate business is a little trickier than I expected, what with Holly being married and everything. I’m sure it would have been a breeze for me otherwise, but this was an unexpected complication.”

  “Oh yes, I’m sure it would have been a breeze were she not married,” Gia agreed.

  Justin peered at her closely. Despite being straight-­faced, he got the feeling she was mocking him, but after a moment he shrugged that concern aside and checked his pocket for the keys to the SUV that had been delivered earlier. Satisfied that he had them, he thanked her again and headed out of the house.

  Holly turned restlessly onto her side and sighed unhappily. Despite her charming bout of hanging over the porcelain throne, she was still starved. Unfortunately, she simply couldn’t go downstairs in search of food without having to hurt Justin’s feelings by refusing the fish.

  That thought made her remember the fishy eyes staring dully at her from the platter and Holly shuddered and closed her own eyes on a grimace. She was not a fish eater to begin with. She didn’t mind fish-­and-­chip-­type fish, but she had never cared for the fishy flavor some fish had and that fish down on the table in the kitchen had looked pretty fishy to her. Disgusting even. What had Justin been thinking? Good Lord, it was like serving a cow with its head on instead of a roast. Nothing like reminding the eater that their meal had been alive and kicking before it hit the table. Gad!

  Rolling onto her back, she tried to sleep, but her thoughts returned to Justin. Despite the debacle it had turned out to be, it had been terribly sweet of him to go to all that trouble. And the man could cook more than spaghetti, which was impressive, she thought. While she didn’t care for fish, it had been obvious that what Justin had provided was a gourmet meal. It made her wonder what else he could cook.

  Justin also had impeccable manners, she thought as she recalled his holding the door and then seating her at the table like she was a lady of old. It wasn’t something she was used to and it had made her feel . . . fussed over, she supposed. Delicate, maybe. Like a lady.

  A knock sounded at the door and Holly’s eyes popped open.

  “Yes?” she said uncertainly after the briefest of hesitations, and then quickly sat up when the door opened to reveal the man she’d been thinking of.

  “Hi,” Justin said, hesitating in the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” Holly got quickly to her feet and offered a st
iff smile. “What—­?”

  “I thought if the nausea had passed, you might be hungry,” Justin said quickly and held up a take-­out bag she hadn’t noticed until then. “So I picked up a ­couple of subs.”

  “Oh,” Holly breathed and was hard put not to launch herself at the man, or at least at the bag he carried as he now closed the door and carried his offerings to a table and chairs positioned in the corner of the room.

  “I wasn’t sure what you like so I just ordered you an assorted,” he said as he set the bag on the table and opened it to begin retrieving items. “I hope that’s okay?”

  “Fine,” Holly assured him, hurrying to join him at the table. She normally ordered a veggie one, or chicken, but right now assorted sounded like heaven. Her eyes widened though when he pulled out a second sandwich, and then a third. Good Lord, he must think she ate like a horse if he thought she—­

  “I got myself a ­couple too and thought I’d join you,” Justin announced as he began to remove bags of chips and bottles of pop from the bag. “I hope that’s okay?”

  “Of course,” Holly said politely. What else could she do? Say, “No, give me my food and get out”? But she did ask, “What about that . . . er . . . lovely fish you made?”

  “By the time I got back to the kitchen Dante and Tomasso had staked their claim to all of it but the head. I’m not big on fish head.”

  Holly felt her stomach roll alarmingly at just the mention of the fish head and almost groaned aloud.

  “I should have grabbed glasses,” Justin muttered as he set the bottles of pop on the table. “Again I didn’t know what you like so just got Coke.”