“Then we are in agreement,” he said, one hand sliding down my back to my behind. “We will find a way for you to become a Moravian like Imogen—without sacrificing your soul—and you will return with me to my home.”
“Nice try to slip that last bit in while distracting me with a butt grope,” I said, leaning down to kiss him again.
He pulled me across his body, his legs capturing mine, erotic thoughts dancing once again in his brain. I let him fulfill all his smutty thoughts, content that, at least for the moment, we were of one mind.
16 July 2012
“Hey, Mr. Sleepyhead, wake up or we’re going to miss the fair, and it’s the last night for it, so we really should go so you can see Imogen and Ben.”
The voice that woke Nikola was filled with warmth and happiness, and made him think of pleasurable afternoons spent in bedsport. “I’m sleeping. You have exhausted me with your demands for sensual delights, and I, being a mere man, have used up all my strength ensuring the fulfillment of your many needs.”
“You’re a vampire, and everyone knows vampires don’t take naps. Besides, you’ve slept for three hours, and if Mr. Pokey down there is any indicator, you’re more than rarin’ to go again.”
“I may be a Dark One, you insatiably sassy wench, but I am also a man, and thus I need copious amounts of sleep after pleasuring my woman to the tips of her toes. What is that?” He squinted at a large yellow glossy object she set next to him on the edge of the bed.
“It’s a present.”
“For me?” He sat up, anticipation driving away the need to sleep. He had a secret love of receiving unexpected presents, something he’d never before told another person, but here was Io handing him some sort of slippery yellow paper that evidently contained a present. He was extraordinarily pleased.
“You haven’t even opened it,” Io laughed, pushing the object toward him. “I don’t know why you look so happy about it when you haven’t seen what I got you. I had to guess your size, and you may not like them, but if we want to go out and about, you need something a little more conventional to wear.”
“Garments?” he asked, pulling out of the slippery yellow substance an item that was clearly meant to be a shirt, although it lacked attributes with which he was familiar. It was followed by a clear slippery package that contained other objects, some sort of abbreviated black stockings that looked as if they’d barely go over his ankles, a somewhat worn pair of blue breeches, and an odd pair of shoes that had no laces whatsoever.
He loved them all. They were presents that she had picked out just for him, not for any other man, but for him. She had put much thought into them, considered what he might like, and chosen items that she knew would satisfy his needs and desires and wants.
She had brought him presents, surprise presents, presents he wasn’t in the least bit anticipating. He wanted to touch all the presents, wanted to lay her out on the bed and show them to her before stripping her naked and licking every inch of her supple, silky body. He was, in fact, trying to work out a way to combine the special joy of both touching his presents and engaging in lovemaking with her when she asked, in a hesitant voice, “Do you like them?”
“They are tolerable,” he said, going for a lofty, disinterested tone, as befitted a man of his stature.
“Man of your stature, my shiny pink butt,” she said, smacking him on the arm, her smile belying the words. “Do you like the color of the shirt? I wanted to get a red one, because red silk is just so yummy, but then I saw this blue one that matches your eyes, and I couldn’t resist it. And it goes nicely with the jeans.”
“The jeans are perfect,” he said, holding up the shoes to examine them.
“Those are the loafers, silly. These are the jeans.” She held up the long breeches. “They’re stonewashed, which I don’t particularly care for, but they were all the store had that I thought would fit you. Oh, there’s a belt, too.”
She handed him a slim black leather belt.
“There are castles on it,” he said, examining the embossing on the leather.
“Yeah, kind of touristy, but I figured no one would look too closely at it, so you wouldn’t mind—Nikola, what’s wrong?”
His throat tightened painfully. He had to swallow three times before he could finally get out, “Nothing is wrong. I am simply admiring the castles on the belt that you have given me.”
She watched him for a moment, her eyes concerned; then to his surprise she took the belt and shoes from his hands, pushed him onto his back, and leaned down, taking his face in her hands. “You are the sweetest man I know. I can’t believe you’re all verklempt because I bought you a few things to wear. Surely you must have received presents in the past?”
“Imogen embroidered handkerchiefs for me each Twelfth Night,” he admitted. “My wife would sometimes make me stockings.”
“And that’s it? Socks and hankies? No one ever gave you anything else?”
“My wife gave me children.”
“That doesn’t count. Oh, my poor, sweet darling—” He allowed her to kiss his face and chest, enjoying greatly the little murmurs she made as she did so.
He was ready and willing to make love to her right then and there, but Io had other ideas.
“Later, punkin, later. Right now, we need to get you dressed so you can take me out and feed me, because I’m so famished I could just about eat your belt.”
He quickly snatched the item in question out of her reach, just in case she wasn’t joking. After a short bit of explanation as to what the mysterious slithery material was (he made note of the word “plastic,” since Io used it a lot), he donned the male undergarments she said were commonplace, not at all displeased with how the silken material caressed his nether parts. By the time he had clad himself in the shirt, long breeches, and shoes, he felt very much like an adventurer about to step onto unknown shores.
“Well, it is kind of an adventure,” Io agreed as they left the hotel. “I know I felt that way once I figured out I had traveled back in time. Oooh, a burger place, just what I want. You aren’t going to mind if I eat in front of you? I hate to be rude, but I’m starving, and I know you can’t eat.”
“I can if I have to, but I see no need to do so. I am quite satisfied after dining earlier,” he said, unable to keep from pinching her adorable bottom.
She squealed, and, with a promise to be right back, hurried across the road to a small building that bore pictures of odd-looking food products on its walls. He contented himself with watching her, frowning when a man nearby turned to look at her as she walked past, automatically reaching for the saber he wore at his side.
Dammit, Io had made him leave it back at the hotel room, claiming that a weapon like that would attract attention from the local magistrates.
“I am the law at my home,” he said under his breath as he waited for Io. “No one would dare look at my woman in such a manner. No one would tell me I cannot defend what is mine. I dislike being incommoded in this fashion—”
His grumbling stopped abruptly when he caught sight of a familiar shape suddenly made visible as a wave of local villagers, strolling around the shops and businesses, parted briefly. Although the man had his back to Nikola, he could have sworn that it was his brother Rolf.
Had Rolf produced descendants after all? Ones who resembled him? He moved through the crowd intent on seeing the man better, but he disappeared into the crowd by the time Nikola had reached the spot where he had stood.
Nikola glanced around him, but was unable to find anyone who resembled the man he sought. He did, however, notice a shop behind him that had the words WE BUY GOLD on the window. He was reminded of Io’s explanation of how money worked in her century, and accordingly stepped into the shop, a few of his coins in his hand.
When he emerged a few minutes later, having sold only one coin, the shop owner saw him to the door saying, “I wish I could buy your entire collection, but as I told the other gentleman who offered me some silver coins, I can
not buy more than one without some form of identification. It is the law, you understand. If you bring me your passport, then I will be able to purchase more coins from you.”
“I will discuss your offer with my woman. She knows more about these things than me,” Nikola said politely, carefully putting into his pocket the paper money the man had given him. He had to admit that even though he wasn’t used to wearing long breeches, the ones that Io had given him were quite comfortable, and had handy pockets that he would make sure were included in all his breeches from that moment forward.
“Er…all right.” The man waved him off, and as Nikola returned to the shop where Io had gone to find food, he felt much more in control. He had clothing that would allow him to blend in, and now he had currency that would allow him to purchase anything he might need.
He was planning on buying some sort of present for Io when she hurried up to him with a small bag in one hand, while jamming some sort of long strips of food into her mouth with the other. “Sorry to take so long. You sure you don’t want anything? I got two burgers, and a jumbo fries in case you wanted to try modern food. You know, the kind without maggots all over it.”
He sniffed at her food, but it held no appeal to him. It certainly couldn’t come close to the scent of her that perpetually teased his nose and left him halfway aroused just being near her. “I do not require food other than you, thank you.”
She sighed blissfully as she ate another handful of the strips, sliding one arm through his and directing them to the main street that led out of town. “I’ll eat as we walk to the fair, if you don’t mind. It’s not a long walk, and although I could rent a car, I think we’ll have to ease you into the complexities of modern vehicles.”
“You wouldn’t have to do so if you had allowed me to examine the FedEx,” he pointed out, turning to stare at a woman who emerged from a shop clad in small scraps of clothing that barely hid her breasts and woman’s parts.
“Oh, that lady would have loved—what’s wrong? Oh.” Io smothered a laugh as his gaze went from the nearly naked woman to her. “That’s a bikini. It’s what some women who don’t have any body fat wear when they go swimming or, in that woman’s case, to a tanning salon.”
“I begin to see that there may be some merits to your century,” Nikola said with a little smile.
She punched him in the arm, just as he knew she would do.
“Dawg. Did you people watch while I was in the fast-food place?”
“I exchanged one of my coins for your currency. Look.” He stopped and pulled out the wad of paper money, showing it to her. “Did I negotiate an adequate amount for one coin? The man was quite excited about my coins, and wished only to give me ten paper monies for one, but I told him I must have more. He did not like that, but I know merchants well, and knew he would not offer me a fair price at first. After bargaining for a few minutes, he gave in and gave me these many monies, and I felt that it was a fair exchange. He also wished to purchase the rest of my coins, but said I must have identification in order for him to do so. I do not have a passport.”
“No, but I have one. Maybe I could—” Io’s eyes widened at the sight of the money, and glancing around quickly, she shoved his hand toward his pocket. “Put that away! I don’t know that there are pickpockets around here, but fairs usually have them, so I wouldn’t be surprised. And yes, that’s a metric butt ton of money, so you did very well.”
“Good.” He was pleased that he had such success in her world with his first attempt. He must be sure to make notes about it later, so as to document how well he did here. “Now I will pay for our lodgings.”
“Just one of those bills will pay for a whole week,” Io said, unwrapping some food and taking a bite. “Not to change the subject, but I think we should discuss what you’re going to say when you see Imogen and your son.”
“What I’m going to say?”
“So you don’t freak them out by suddenly appearing from the past. Imogen said you had died, remember.”
“I find it difficult to forget something like my own death,” he said drily.
“Although oddly enough, Ben said you were alive and well and living in South America ogling nubile young girls.” She gave him a long look. “Obviously, given the fact that your brothers were trying to kill you, he was lying about your death, but I’m curious as to why he’d do that. I don’t suppose you have any insight into that?”
“If Benedikt felt it necessary to speak falsely about me, I’m sure he had a very good reason,” he answered with serenity. There might be many unknowns in his life—and certainly more so now that he found himself in a world that was full of oddities—but in one thing he was confident: the integrity of his children. “I cannot anticipate what that might be, but I am sure that Benedikt will explain himself. I admit that I will be pleased to see them. I was just returning home from leaving Benedikt at the university in Heidelberg when you ran into my horse. I assume they have done well for themselves over the centuries?”
“I guess so,” she answered rather indistinctly around a mouthful of food. “I told you that Ben had a wife now. She seemed nice enough, although…” Io wadded up her bag and tossed it into a round receptacle that was placed on the street. “At the time, I thought she was as bonkers as Ben, because she said she had some ghosts visiting her. But I guess now that I’m dating a vampire, and have traveled through time twice, I should just stop fighting it and go with the flow. Your daughter-in-law has Viking ghosts, Nikola. Ones that seem to think she’s some sort of goddess.”
“Fascinating,” he said, and pulled out his notebook to make a note about interviewing the ghosts. He wished to stop and make more comprehensive notes, but Io insisted that they stop by a bank so that he could get smaller denominations of currency.
“No one would be able to make change for the sort of bills you’re hauling around,” she told him as they emerged into the dusky twilight that enveloped the valley.
He had been careful to keep to the shadows earlier, but now with the sun setting, he was able to join the throng of people who were streaming out of town, on foot and in the metal carriages that Io had described earlier—and about which he badly wanted to make a scientific study—all headed to the field outside of the town where he could see colorful tents and small oblong buildings.
“Remember, we’re going to tell everyone that you’re Imogen and Ben’s cousin,” Io warned him as they stood in front of a wooden structure bearing the legend “Ticket Booth.” Io pointed out which notes he would need for the tickets to the fair. “And yes, I know that irks you, but there’s just no way we can explain your appearance otherwise.”
“I look older now,” he pointed out.
“A tiny bit, yes. Enough that I don’t feel like I’m robbing the cradle, but certainly not old enough to have kids who are Imogen’s and Ben’s ages. Hi, two adults, please.”
He followed after Io as she led him onto the fairgrounds, his quick gaze taking in many things. “I know what a tattoo is, but what purpose does piercing offer?” he asked, stopping in front of one of the booths.
Io pulled him away from the front of the intriguing images. “You truly do not want to know.”
He dug in his heels and refused to budge. “On the contrary, I do. I am a scientist, and more, an adventurer. You yourself said so. Thus, I must record my adventures, and I cannot do that if you tug me away from interesting ones.”
She stopped trying to pull him away from the booth, gesturing toward the flap that hid the inside of the tent while saying, “By all means, go ahead and see for yourself. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of an adventure, or the pursuit of knowledge.”
You are smiling, he said as he entered the close confines of the tent. Inside, there was some sort of odd reclining chair, several tables, and a woman with heavily drawn black around her eyes who looked up from a journal she was reading. I suspect you know something you are not telling me. What is it?
No, no, I wouldn’t want to ruin your sci
entific studies of piercings and modern society. You just go on and find out for yourself.
“May I help sir?” the woman asked, getting to her feet. She appeared to have small bits of metal stuck to her nose, eyebrows, and lower lip. He stared at those for a few moments before recognizing the look she was giving him.
“My woman is outside,” he told her. “I do not wish to have sexual congress with you.”
She paused for a moment, then pursed her lips. “Your loss. Do you wish for a tattoo? Piercing?” She brazenly eyed the front of his breeches. “Would sir be interested in a Prince Albert, perhaps?”
“I am a baron, not a prince, and my name is Nikola, not Albert,” he corrected her.
The woman smiled. “A Prince Albert is a piercing, Baron. A small circular barbell is inserted in your cock. It will give much pleasure to your partner, I assure you. If you would remove your jeans, I will assess you for what size barbell would be best to start with.”
He stared at the woman for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and exited the tent. Io stifled a laugh when she saw his face.
He ignored it, saying simply, “The creation of the bikini aside, I must question the sanity of your times, Io.”
She laughed out loud. “Where piercings are concerned, I totally agree. The woman who runs that place wanted me to get my nipples tattooed. I shudder to think of what she offered to do to you.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Moving along, then…if you’re done exploring the subject of body enhancements, Imogen’s booth is on the right, at the end. Now, be gentle with her, Nikola. She’s not expecting you to suddenly come back to life, and we wouldn’t want to give her a heart attack or some—well, hell. She’s not there.”
A Tale of Two Vampires Page 20
