by Aiden James
“Nora’s pretty amazing,” I said, wondering what exactly she said in order to convince the boyfriend whom I hadn’t spoken to for six months to pique enough interest to meet with me. “I wonder how she got your cell?”
I thought back to when I was on Racco’s yacht speeding across the Atlantic last year. I no longer had my iPhone, which for all I knew still sat in my dorm room at UT. Maybe I had written Peter’s number down somewhere to where it was in a pocket at the time. Or, perhaps when Peter was brought to France against his wishes, he either told them the number or they confiscated his handset and got it that way. Really, she probably just read his mind, but he had been violated in so many ways, I didn’t want to add that to the list.
“That’s the craziest thing about this, Txema,” he said, shaking his head. “Nora called me at my parents’ place. That’s where I’ve been living since they closed UT to freshmen and sophomore students until next fall. Classes are only in session right now for juniors and seniors, and they’re handling those online. There’s literally no one on campus in Knoxville. Nearly four hundred people died there. And all the other colleges and Universities in Tennessee have shut down for the summer, until this Chupacabra thing gets resolved.”
“Did you ever tell any of the vampires in France that you’re from Nashville?” Definitely mind reading.
“No, not that I know of. They kept me in that fucking dungeon…” His hands trembled atop the white tablecloth. I reached across and held his hands. “Right up until the night I saw you, I thought they were going to kill me.” He frowned as if he had been unexpectedly forced to relive the worst aspects of that experience. The waiter arrived with a beer that Peter must’ve ordered while waiting for me, and he took a long drink from the bottle.
The waiter turned to me. “Would you like anything madam? Perhaps a glass of wine or a cocktail?” I said a silent thanks to whichever one of my companions had ensured my fake passport said I was twenty-two years old, just in case it came up.
“I’ll take a glass of chardonnay, please and also, do you mind if we go ahead and order our food, too?”
I had only glanced at the menu, but was beginning to feel quite weak since we sat. I also hoped this would help move us away from what happened in France and back to the here and now.
“I’ll take the filet,” said Peter, when the waiter told us he didn’t mind waiting a moment for me to decide what I wanted. The stuffed crab sounded the best to me, and after Peter finished the rest of his order, I went ahead and completed mine.
And then changed the subject.
“I’ve really missed you!” I said, once the waiter left us alone to ourselves again. “I can’t believe how much, it’s been so crazy with everything going on.”
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to talk to him, and part of that was because I felt unsure of how our shared ceremony of vampire sex had affected him. Granted, he didn’t have to physically touch anyone other than me during that event, and no one touched him. But, nearly two hundred undead souls watched Peter achieve orgasm with me. I only hoped the fruit of that forced union, Alaia, was enough to rekindle a new connection between us. A bond that above all else would be a good thing for our daughter.
“I’ve really missed you, too, Txema,” he said, smiling sadly until he looked over at Alaia, who played with a teething toy. His face lit up again in a genuine smile.
I had the distinct feeling something had changed since we last were together as a couple. Something that went far beyond the fateful events of last November.
“How are your parents?” I said, looking for a distraction until I could get a handle on what had changed. “And how are they taking all of this current craziness going on in the world?”
“They’re good… well at least as good as can be expected,” he said, bringing his attention back to me. “Dad’s still the flexible one, dropping his caseload to share with other law firms in the city. Mom worries more than she used to, since my folks’ retirement plans to move to Key West in a few years have been hindered by their 401k accounts taking a severe hit from what’s happened lately on Wall Street.” The conversation continued in this vein for a while, with him filling in some major gaps in my knowledge about the “Chupacalypse” as some of the seedier news stations were calling it. The homonym with chew was apparently too tasty of a ratings boost to resist. When a lull hit the conversation I jumped in with the real question that had been eating at me.
“Are you seeing anyone these days?”
His smile dipped ever so slightly, which was all I needed to know that indeed there was someone else.
“What’s her name?”
I tried to sound cheerful, despite the knife I felt going through my heart. We always love the ones beyond our reach the most, or so I’ve heard. In this case, I fully expected someone new to be in Peter’s life, even before Alaia’s birth. But I didn’t expect to feel the massive tug on my heart when I saw him in person again. Truly, some things are better where they’ve been left, so both people can move on with their lives. Now that I realized what I’d lost in this fantastic man, my hunch was he could happily move on with his new life―even with the knowledge he was now a papa. As for me, I wasn’t sure whether I felt sad or guilty or relieved. Probably some mix of all three.
“Her name is Sara,” he said, and then our food arrived. I had to wait through several agonizing minutes for him to go on and tell me more.
It almost destroyed my appetite, despite the excellent cuisine. The waiter even managed to produce a small bottle of milk for Alaia that I carefully monitored, since it meant something a little different than she was used to drinking or eating.
“I have a picture of her I can show you after lunch, if you’d like to see it,” he said, picking up where he left off when halfway finished with his filet. His smile was hopeful, as if he desperately wanted my approval of his new love. Despite all of his intelligence and charm, I remembered then that he often missed the subtleties that an older, or at least more mature man would notice. Like how I had hardly made a dent in the stuffed crab upon my plate. “Have you been seeing anyone lately?”
Sure, Petee-boy. I’ve been dating up a storm. In fact, I’m a real hit with Chinese dragons and Nepalese Buddhists.
“Not right now,” I said, trying hard to keep my smile from fading. “Alaia is all I can handle in my life right now,” I lied. Still it helped draw enough energy to boost my smile back up.
“Hmmmm,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. He went back to work on the filet and sautéed mushrooms.
“So, what’s she like?” I asked. “Did you meet her at school or here in Nashville?”
“We met at a spring music festival in Franklin, not far from where my parents live,” he said. “Her mom and my mom grew up together, and when they introduced us, we sort of hit it off. Sara’s a great gal, and a lot of fun to be with. She’s studying voice at Belmont College here in town, and should have her degree finished in the next couple of years. I’d bet you two would hit it off, if ever you’re back in town again.”
“She sounds wonderful, Peter,” I said, holding the smile while thinking to myself that this ‘great gal’ Sara and I might not have so much in common, other than competition for Peter’s affections. “That’s great. I’m happy for you both.”
It was a white lie designed to ease his conscience and make him feel better about how things had turned out with us. It also closed the conversation off enough for me to finish my meal, which I did with gusto. I ate everything in arms reach. I mean everything. Dinner rolls, the green garnish stuff. Desert mints. You name it. I hadn’t eaten anything in sixteen hours and before that, nearly thirty-six hours ago. Peter watched me with an odd look.
“I guess you were really hungry, huh?” he said, after the waiter came by to tell us that the tab for lunch had been paid for in advance by Nora Sterling. I pulled out a couple of twenties from my purse and left them for the waiter before Peter could pay for the tip. I also asked the waiter to offer a s
pecial thanks to the hostess for getting a bottle of milk for Alaia, since her shift had ended and she had left for the day.
After lunch, we walked around the hotel gardens, talking about old times while avoiding the tragedy in Knoxville that sparked my globetrotting misadventure. He never brought up his good friend Johnny Ayers, and I never revealed that Tyreen had since joined the vampire kingdom. Peter remembered to show me the picture of his new sweetheart, and I felt envious when I saw it. Not so much the striking blue-eyed blonde as I was of her smiling beau sharing the shot with her. They were on a beach someplace, either Panama City or Destin, Florida would be my guess, a setting sun and shimmering waves in the background. Peter had never looked so happy with me as he did in that photo with Sara.
“I’m still using the same email address I had in Knoxville,” said Peter, after we exited the hotel together. “I’d love to hear how you and Alaia are doing.”
“‘Skittles Angry Junkie’?” I smiled wryly.
“Yeah, that’s still the user name I go by.” He laughed. “Come here and let me give you and Alaia a big hug.”
I drew close, breathing in the mixture of his scent and the Ralph Lauren cologne he’s always preferred for what I believed would be the last time. Then we embraced. Being in the exclusive vampire world, in which he’d never be welcome as a non-beneficial human, there would be no need for child support checks and mandatory visitations. Even though I prayed fervently in my heart that Peter and Alaia would become as close as any child and father ever have, I couldn’t picture any logistics on how that could work. It was these thoughts and his million-dollar smile that I took with me as we drew apart.
“You’re my little girl, and even though I won’t see you a lot, I want you to know something,” he said to Alaia, cradling our smiling baby girl in his arms. “I’m so proud to be your father, and I’ll always love you, Alaia. Always.”
It was extremely difficult to keep from crying, and I knew my eyes were misting as my vision began to blur. Peter looked as if he wanted to cradle me in his arms, too, but couldn’t. Or, more likely, wouldn’t—as if afraid it would lead him back to me and away from his new life with Sara. His was now a life free of vampire obligations, despite there being no escape in the modern world from vampire violence.
I watched him walk to his car while I held on tightly to our daughter. She was more restless than usual, squirming in my arms as if she wanted one last chance to be near her daddy, to hear his voice and feel his touch. He drove past us in his cherished Camaro and I smiled when I saw it. It was as much him as his smile or hair. He waved at us as he drove by and it is a memory I cherish. It was the last time I saw him like that, so alive and vibrant…
I checked the clock and it was almost four. I considered sight-seeing, but the day had been emotionally draining and I really just wanted to go back to the airport, change clothes, and rest. I took Mitch’s card out of the purse and gave him a call. He must have been in the area because it took less than fifteen minutes before I was in the back seat, once more securing my precious daughter in the car seat, although this time, the driver trusted my competence and left me to it.
The drive back was fairly uneventful, although passing through the security checkpoint took longer than I had expected and I was glad to have come back early.
As I walked up to the hangar entrance, I noticed a slightly smaller jet than ours sitting less than fifty feet away. It reminded me of the one we took to the Chinese Himalayas from France.
“Mademoiselle Ybarra—come here, please!” a familiar, and friendly voice called out.
I shielded my eyes from the late afternoon as a blond headed man stepped out from the plane’s shadow to where I could clearly see him.
“Mercel? What are you doing here?” I was shocked to see Racco’s most trusted servant standing near our assigned hangar. My mouth broke into a smile at once and Alaia cooed in echo of my pleasure.
“We have come for you!” he said, smiling as he motioned for me to hurry over to him. “Come quickly, as there is someone here to see you, someone you asked me about when you and I last talked!”
“What?” I nearly shrieked, as a volatile mixture of excitement and pent up anger flowed through me. “No… NO, this can’t be happening to me today!”
My emotions were all over the place and I knew I was in a very vulnerable state. Despite not seeing Peter for months and knowing we couldn’t be together, my heart only today got the notice. It took about a half of a second to use that picture of Sara to rationalize the excitement I was feeling about seeing Racco. I damned near fell on my ass running to where Mercel stood, trying to keep my baby’s bounces to a minimum.
“Yes, it is true,” Mercel said, once I was close to him. He gave me a quick hug before finishing his task of pulling a portable staircase up to the plane. Meanwhile, another servant opened the door. “He is waiting for you right now, Mademoiselle. It will be you and him, only, and of course your baby girl.”
He motioned for me to climb the stairs, and I scrambled up to the entrance, scarcely noticing I nearly ripped the heel off from my right shoe. As long as Alaia and I didn’t trip and fall, I didn’t care. That and getting inside the plane before the person inside could escape, or the whole damned experience turned out to be a cruel joke.
As soon as the steward inside the doorway to the passenger cabin stepped aside, a figure rose from the plush leather chair he had been sitting in. He held a half-filled glass of wine in one hand and a full one in the other.
No doubt, the second glass was for me. As he moved closer, wearing his patented smug grin, he held it out as if I had only been in another room for a couple of minutes. My heart continued to pound although the dominant emotion driving it switched in an instant. I motioned for him to wait a moment while I set Alaia down in a travel bassinet that had been thoughtfully attached next to a matching leather chair near his own.
Then I went after him like a hungry lioness stalking an overconfident gazelle.
“Where the FUCK have you been!”
here have I been?” said Racco. “For your information, ma chérie amour, I’ve been traveling across all of Europe in search of a place that is truly safe for you and your child.”
He sounded angry, and the offended look he gave me almost made me think this was all my fault and none of his. The man is a master manipulator with smooth charms, even in a rage. But who would expect one of the few immortal humans in the world to be anything less than that?
“And you could not find time to write me a note or some other way to let me know you’ve cared as much about me and Alaia as you say you do now?” My wrath matched his.
I hadn’t seen Racco in nearly six months, and as in the case with Peter, there had been no attempts on his part to contact me. The human male species, regardless of their century of birth, tend to be self-centered, as many a female can attest. There’s no point in trying to convince a man that this point of view is the correct one, since admitting to such a shortcoming could prove fatal to their chauvinistic outlook on life. That’s true even for the ones who keep their arrogance and sense of privileged status on the down low.
We are here for them, and the rescue that we all long for, our own damsel in distress syndrome, can only happen when the man pursuing us wants something from us. Usually that simply means sex, and any heart-felt conversations will end as soon as the libido is fulfilled.
I resolved not to fall prey to his devilish charisma or Adonis good looks. Mid-thirties, with dark wavy locks, classic Mediterranean features, and sky blue eyes, he always looked like he should be on a beach or a boat somewhere warm. He was fit, more from an active lifestyle and mystical metabolism than gym time, and he knew how to dress to show his body off and hide it in just the right amount. He was wearing a loose white shirt, buttoned only half way and wrinkled to look like it had been thrown on the moment before I walked into the room, which of course, had the effect of making me remember what he looked like with it off.
This
was distracting my attention and sapping my rage. I wanted to run my fingers through that thick hair and press my lips up against his and… argh! On top of all of this, he is an alchemist of great skill, and I am fairly certain that his cologne contains some mixture of pheromones and aphrodisiacs to give his seductions that extra edge. When I first met him, I promptly forgot Peter, and if Chanson hadn’t sabotaged my attempts to have sex with him, perhaps Alaia would have a different father. Of course, it would also mean that Racco would have fathered children with both Chanson and myself, as Kazikli revealed earlier.
“You never got my letters?” His anger melted to confusion and then hurt. In less than fifteen seconds, I went from wanting to emasculate him to wrapping my arms around him for comfort. “I gave them to Nora who slipped them to Kazikli, since she said that Gustav had assigned him to watch over you.”
“No, I never received any letters.” I tried to picture the sequence of events that made sure the correspondence never reached me. “If I had, I would’ve certainly responded.”
“Responded how?” He took an almost absent sip of wine while eyeing me thoughtfully. His blue eyes seemed deeper, and I could almost feel his probing gaze invading my weary psyche. “Franz and Mercel have told me how you were without any means of modern communication until this trip. I had assumed that was why there was no word from you. It’s why I was willing to forgive and move on with you, Txema, even though I had no idea if you felt the same, before dear Mercel told me of your conversation during Christmas time.”
“But what if I’m not ready to deal with you again?” I pulled my gaze away from him long enough to check on my baby girl. Alaia was smiling at us both, perhaps amused at the rise and fall of our voices as one emotion quickly gave way to another. It was in so many ways a lovers’ quarrel, despite our complete lack of a relationship to speak of. “I have someone else whose welfare is far more precious than either yours or mine is.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said, and motioned for me to take the full glass of merlot. Meanwhile, the plane began to move. I hadn’t even noticed the door being locked by the steward. “That’s why it is critical for you to hear my ideas on how to make sure both she and you stay safe from Ralu’s army. Please, sit down while we talk.”
