Ghosts of Memories: A Vampire Memories Novel

by Barb Hendee

  Philip and Wade were staring as well.

  Eleisha had never seen anything quite like this. There was barely room to walk.

  “Christian, darling!” a cheerful voice called.

  A woman swept in from an open archway, coming toward them with her arms wide—apparently having no trouble navigating the furniture. She appeared to be about sixty year old. She was short and stocky, wearing an orange caftan with gold inlay and six strings of pearls around her neck. Countless silver bracelets jangled on both her wrists. As she smiled, the entire scene struck Eleisha as something right out of an Agatha Christie novel.

  Christian leaned down, and the woman kissed both his cheeks, after which she greeted Ivory warmly. Then she took a good look at Philip. “Oh, Christian, you did not exaggerate. Who is this divine creature?”

  Philip smiled slightly and leaned over, grasping her hand and kissing the back of it. “Philip Branté,” he said. “Charmed.”

  Eleisha had seen him in this persona before, usually when he was trying to lure off a victim, but his ability to shift so rapidly caught her off guard. She herself had no such skill and felt completely off center.

  But the woman beamed up at Philip. “Vera Olivier,” she said, turning quickly to Wade and Eleisha. “You are all most welcome. When Christian called to tell me that members of his own circle had arrived here in Seattle, I insisted he bring you here.”

  His own circle? Did she think they were some kind of spiritualists as well?

  “Of course you did, darling,” Christian said, stepping forward and taking charge again. “It’s in your soul to be generous. Can we get them settled? Have you arranged three guest rooms?”

  As these words left his mouth, Philip glanced at him and then reached out, placing one hand on the back of Eleisha’s neck. “Two guest rooms,” he corrected.

  A flash of surprise crossed Christian’s face, followed by a frown. But both vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. “Of course. Two rooms.”

  Vera laughed and grasped Eleisha’s hand. “Good for you, my dear,” she said. “I’d have done the same thing myself twenty years ago.” Looking Philip up and down, she sighed and then pulled Eleisha along through the maze of furniture. “This way.”

  Though Vera’s countenance was cheerful, Eleisha knew the scars of loneliness well enough to spot them, and in spite of being embarrassed by the woman’s behavior, she couldn’t help a slight rush of affection.

  But then she wondered what their guest room was going to look like.

  Julian paced the floor of the hotel. He’d decided to come back here and wait for a location report from Mary. In spite of having fed, he was restless and couldn’t seem to sit down. He just felt too blind in the situation.

  He wanted to know more about Christian. How old was he? Where had he come from? Why wasn’t he listed in Angelo’s book? What was his gift? Knowledge was power, and Julian was in the dark here.

  Worse, if Christian had been warned about Julian’s presence, he’d be on guard, and that would affect how Julian should proceed.

  What was taking Mary so long?

  She’d been the one hounding him to finish this as fast as possible, and if he’d had a chance at the mansion, he might have finished it already. Now that his target had been warned and had gone into hiding, Julian needed to know a little more about what he was walking into himself, and he wasn’t quite ready for her to demand he keep his promise.

  No, he might have to drag this out a little longer.

  The air shimmered, and Mary materialized beside the bed. She didn’t look happy.

  “What?” he asked, alarmed. “Do you know where they are?”

  “Yeah, but you’re not going to like it.”

  He waited.

  She glanced away. She’d never done that before, or at least not with so much self-deprecation. “They’re back at the mansion,” she said. “But Eleisha, Philip, and Wade are all there, too, and I think they’re staying.”

  He stared at her, absorbing her words.

  “You’ll never get near Christian with Eleisha and Philip in there,” she said, “and even if you do, you’ll never get back out.”

  chapter seven

  Not long past dusk the following evening, Eleisha found herself gathered with the others back in the overstuffed living room.

  Although she and Philip had slept out the day in their guest room, since waking, she’d learned a little more about the place. Vera employed two maids and a cook. Eleisha had also briefly met the stalwart butler, Simmons, who seemed the run the house with surprising efficiency. If he was appalled by the overabundance of furniture, paintings, and knickknacks everywhere, he didn’t show it, and Eleisha had yet to find a speck of dust on anything.

  But apparently, Vera had scheduled a séance to take place at eleven o’clock that night, and she expected Christian’s “guests” to participate. Eleisha was both nervous and curious.

  However, they had nearly five hours to get through before the event took place, and even though Philip managed to maintain his charming persona with Vera, Eleisha could see he was getting restless. Normally, by now she’d have found some way to entertain him for the evening. He wasn’t big on just sitting around and socializing.

  Vera stood by the fireplace and pressed her hands together in what looked like glee. “Well, darlings, what should we do now?”

  Eleisha glanced over at her in gratitude.

  Vera’s caftan was bright pink tonight. Christian wore dark slacks and a sport jacket, and Ivory was stunning in a black evening gown and diamond pendant. Philip had on black jeans and a snug-fitting turtleneck sweater, but he always looked well dressed in anything he wore.

  However…Eleisha was slightly embarrassed by herself and Wade. Since Seamus had observed two consecutive séances from the previous two nights, she hadn’t expected a third séance to be scheduled for tonight, and she’d not been told about tonight’s until a few moments ago, so she was dressed in a long broomstick skirt and one of Philip’s V-neck sweaters, which hung halfway to her knees. Wade was even worse, wearing old jeans and a T-shirt with a depiction of a Blue Öyster Cult album emblazoned on the front—Some Enchanted Evening. His shirt wasn’t tucked in, and she could see the small lump of his gun in the back of his pants. What had he been thinking? Maybe he’d just assumed they’d be on guard duty and nothing more tonight.

  But Vera didn’t seem to mind, and she was enjoying the rather eccentric mix of company. Eleisha stepped toward her, mulling over Philip’s favorite pastimes.

  “Do you play poker?” Eleisha asked.

  Vera beamed. “Poker? What a lovely suggestion.”

  Philip perked up. “For money?”

  “Of course!” Vera answered. “What other way is there?”

  Even the near-silent, serene Ivory looked interested at this prospect, and Eleisha stepped back again, just listening as a short exchange of suggestions and warnings followed.

  “We can use that table over there…”

  “Do you like five-card draw…?”

  “Watch out for Philip,” Wade said. “He cheats.”

  “I do not!”

  Within a few moments, cards and chips were produced, and then Vera, Philip, Wade, and Ivory began sitting down around a small table. Christian was on a settee reading a book, and Eleisha now stood near the fireplace.

  Wade looked over at her. “Are you playing?”

  “I think I’ll just watch,” she answered.

  He nodded while picking up the deck, and Eleisha sank into relief that she could just be alone with her thoughts for a little while and not responsible for entertaining anyone else.

  She noticed an open archway on the other side of the living room, and she crossed over to see into the next room. It was just as overstuffed as the rest of the house, but this room boasted a large round table with a candelabra and a number of Egyptian statues. She recognized it from Seamus’ description and realized this was where the séance would be held.

&nbs
p; Walking in, she touched the table.

  “I know it’s a bit of a cliché, but trust me, this is what the clients expect.”

  Eleisha jumped slightly and turned to see Christian standing in the archway. He seemed to be studying her with his strange light eyes. Candlelight glinted off the ring in his ear, and she didn’t know how to respond.

  “Maybe it’s time you and I had a real talk,” he said. “I have a few questions.”

  For some reason she couldn’t explain, she took a step backward.

  Watching the girl as she touched the table, Christian couldn’t believe how charming she looked in a simple loose skirt that hung to her ankles and what appeared to be a man’s sweater. It was probably Philip’s, and that thought rankled him. At the pub last night, he hadn’t minded pretending to be helpless, acting as if he’d needed both Philip’s protection and his sword. In truth, Christian had been knife fighting in the streets of Paris before he was twelve years old.

  But he’d been shortsighted not to have noticed the possessive way Philip looked at Eleisha, and as a result, he’d been caught off guard when Philip so pointedly corrected him by asking for only two rooms.

  Christian didn’t like being caught off guard.

  Worse, if the girl belonged to Philip, it complicated matters. Nothing he couldn’t handle…but it was a complication.

  However, just now, when Eleisha’s eyes widened slightly and she took a step away from him, excitement began building in Christian’s chest again, and he knew he’d started down a path he had to finish.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked.

  He moved closer and delighted in watching her struggle not to step back again.

  “Everything,” he answered. “Where did you come from? How did Philip survive? How did you find each other?”

  At his open barrage of questions, she suddenly smiled. “What do you want to know first?”

  Her expression changed to the same one she’d worn in the pub last night—of wishing to please him—and it hit him harder than her anxiety had. How long since one of his own kind, someone who knew what he was, had looked at him like that?

  “Who made you?” he asked. He was well aware by now that she’d never agreed to be turned. Someone like her would never give consent. That meant one of his own had broken the third law.

  Her smile faded. “Julian.”

  “Julian? No. He hates other vampires. He’d never make one.”

  She nodded. “He did. His father became ill from old age, senile, and Julian turned him, trying to save him. But it didn’t work. His father was still sick and senile…and immortal. Julian wanted a caretaker for him, and he needed someone who wouldn’t die.”

  “So he forced you?”

  She glanced away, as if embarrassed to answer, and he was tempted to reach into her mind and see more of her thoughts for himself, but that might scare her off, and he didn’t know how quickly she could block him.

  He glanced out toward Philip, who was cheerfully calling Vera’s last bet.

  “I can already guess his gift,” Christian said, “but you are more of a mystery. What’s yours?”

  She met his eyes and seemed to gain some composure. “It’s my turn to ask. I answered one of your questions.”

  Her flash of courage surprised him. He didn’t like it.

  “Ask away,” he said.

  “What’s your gift?”

  He wasn’t quite ready to answer that yet. His gift was unique. So instead, he changed the subject, looking pointedly at her sweater. “Explaining that may take some time, and my client will be arriving in a few hours.” He paused, as if the next topic pained him. “It’s important that we all look the part for this to work. I took the liberty of borrowing a dress from Ivory earlier, and I know this is awkward, but I need you to…” He trailed off as realization dawned on her face.

  “Oh, you want me to change?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. I also have some of my things laid out for Wade. Could you come up to my room?”

  “Your room?”

  Her voice wavered with anxiety again, and he managed an expression of offended hurt. “I don’t see how we’re ever going to become better acquainted if you can’t even accept an offer to properly dress for the evening.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean… Of course I’ll come up and change.”

  She seemed horrified at the thought of offending him, and pleasure swelled up in his chest anew. She was delightful. So easy to manipulate. He might not even have to use his gift.

  “This way,” he said, pointing to the archway at the back of the sitting room.

  “I’d better go back and tell Philip first.”

  “He’s busy, and we won’t be long.”

  She hesitated but did not seem to want to offend him again. Nodding, she followed him out the back of the room toward the stairwell.

  Fifteen minutes later, Eleisha was wondering how she’d let Christian talk her into changing her clothes right there in his room. But she was behind a large Asian screen, pulling Philip’s sweater over her head, and she could hear Christian clinking brushes, combs, and small glass jars over at the dressing table.

  Every time she tried to refuse him something, he made her feel as if she were the one in the wrong—and maybe she was. After all, she’d led Julian right to him and Ivory, and Christian had been good enough to arrange an invitation for them here so that he might come to know them better.

  Wasn’t this what she wanted?

  “That dress unzips in the back,” he called from somewhere out in the room, “but the zipper is well hidden. Let me know if you need help.”

  “I’m all right.”

  After pulling off her skirt, Eleisha lifted the gown hanging from the screen and turned it around. She could see what he meant. The zipper was indeed difficult to spot. But the gown itself intimidated her. It was silk, in a shimmering shade of off-white pearl. Slipping into it, she realized it was backless, so the zipper came up only a few inches above her tailbone. The dress was snug and slinky, with spaghetti straps that fastened at the back of her neck. In her entire existence, she’d never worn anything like it. The long, shimmering skirt fell around her feet, but the top half seemed to include very little material.

  “Christian, I don’t know about this. Doesn’t Ivory have anything else?”

  “Let me see it.”

  Reluctantly, she stepped out from behind the screen, and when he turned to look at her, his eyes brightened with intensity.

  “It’s perfect,” he said.

  Something about this felt wrong—all wrong—but she had no idea what. It wasn’t unreasonable of him to expect her and Wade to look their parts in the séance, and in order to wrangle their invitations here, he’d had to claim they were members of his circle.

  He motioned to a chair in front of the dressing table. “Come and sit here. I need to do your hair.”

  “You know how to style a woman’s hair?”

  “Of course. I used to do Ivory’s all the time.”

  She didn’t miss the “used to,” and it reminded her of something else that had been nagging at her. For two vampires who worked and traveled and lived together, Christian and Ivory did not seem close. They never spoke to each other, and Eleisha couldn’t help wondering why. Had something happened between them? It frustrated her that she knew so little about this situation.

  But she sat down, and he began brushing her hair. She wondered what the séance would be like and considered that a safe topic.

  “How does it work?” she asked. “The séance itself. Wade found a newspaper article that said your clients are sometimes weak and dizzy afterward. You don’t feed on them, do you?”

  He picked up a can of mousse and sprayed a dollop into one hand. “Feed on them? No.” He paused. “How developed is your telepathy?”

  She had no intention of letting him know that just yet, not when it was her only weapon. She hadn’t even let Rose know that much for a while. “Developed enough.
Strong enough that I’ve taught several vampires how to follow the first law.”

  “Really? Good. Then just stay with me when the show begins tonight. Stay inside my mind, and you’ll see how it’s done.” He rubbed his hands together and began working the mousse into her hair. “I want you to see how it’s done. But I have to read detailed images and emotions from the clients, and sometimes I have to go so deep it drains them.”

  That startled her. “You don’t do any damage?”

  “Nothing lasting.”

  Once he’d made her wavy hair even wavier, he pulled her long bangs back and pinned them at the crown of her head with a jeweled clip. Then he picked up a black eye-lining pencil.

  “Oh, Christian, no…,” she said. “I don’t wear that.”

  “Just sit still.”

  He put eyeliner at the corners of her eyes. He also used mascara and then a light lip gloss.

  “Perfect,” he said again, and the relief in his voice bothered her. Looking into the mirror, she saw a stranger looking back, but he seemed to much prefer her like this, as if he wanted to change her.

  She stood up, moving away.

  Warning bells were going off inside her head. What did he want? Was this just about making her look presentable for the séance?

  She decided it was time to push guilt aside and start listening to her own instincts. In the end, it would be safer for Christian and Ivory to come back to the underground—perhaps pick up their business from there. Portland had its areas of affluent society. Or if they really decided they didn’t want to come back, they could just vanish for a few months, perhaps change their names, and then set up with another patron like Vera someplace else—and keep themselves out of the newspapers.

  But suddenly Eleisha realized that no matter how civilized Christian appeared, she wasn’t going to bring him near Rose or Maxim until she knew a good deal more.

  Glancing at a clock on the dressing table, she saw they still had hours until the séance.