Marius shrugged. ‘Friday, I think. But why do you think he wanted to know? I mean, he couldn’t think I had anything to do with it, could he? Just because my wife was jealous of the time I spent with Heather doesn’t mean there was actually anything going on. Because there wasn’t. Honestly. I mean, she was a stunning woman. Bewitching, you might say. And sure, I might have had a fantasy or two about her, but that doesn’t make me a murderer.’ His hand had clutched my shoulder. ‘And she wasn’t even murdered, was she? It was suicide. Everyone says so. Why is he asking me questions, Miss Smith? Why?’
I was just about to yank myself away when the choirmaster’s hand appeared atop Marius’s, and gently removed it from my shoulder.
‘We’re all upset about Heather, Marius,’ he said. ‘But Miss Smith doesn’t know any more than you or I. Now, would you like to go in and get prepared? We’re about to start singing the Ballad of Bloody Brenda. Go on – go inside and look over the words.’
With no further argument (except for a facial expression that told me he was most definitely seething) Marius walked inside. If Heather was having an affair with a married man, Marius was a likely suspect.
‘Thanks,’ I said, looking down at my shoulder. Marius had left his handprint behind. ‘He seems very upset about Heather. They must have been close.’
Dean gave me a small smile. ‘Only in his imagination, I’m afraid. A lot of men in the choir admired Heather from afar. I believe the word they used to describe her was bewitching.’
‘That’s exactly what Marius just called her,’ I mused. ‘She was certainly lovely.’
He smiled sadly. ‘She was. A sweet soul and a sweet singer. Were you coming to join, Miss Smith? We could certainly use as many new singers as we can get, what with Shanty Season upon us and our lead singer no longer in this world.’
My eyes darted to the ground. ‘Well, I was hoping to join. There’s not much to do in Riddler’s Edge in the evenings, and I thought it might be a good way to make some new friends. But I’m afraid I’m not the best singer.’
‘Nonsense. You’ve just been lacking a good conductor, that’s all. Trust me – by the end of this evening’s practice, you’ll be singing like an angel.’
≈
It’s possible that I was singing like an angel. I mean, does anyone really know how they sounded? What we refer to as a choir of angels could have sounded like foxes at mating season. Just sayin’.
But despite what I was sure I sounded like, no one seemed too put out by the noises I was making. As we moved on from the Fisherman’s Fate to the Mermaid’s Melody, I was even quite enjoying myself. I held the Aurameter while we sang, using it to look at each member of the choir. Seeing as it looked like a fancy magnifying glass, there was no real danger of anyone suspecting me of witchy shenanigans. Unfortunately, those witchy shenanigans were fruitless. Just as Dylan had told me, neither Rachel nor Margaret were actual witches.
Rachel had taken on Heather’s parts of each song, and her voice soared high and sweet, making the (sometimes disturbing) sea shanties sound like heavenly ballads. I could have listened to her all night. I was a little disappointed when choir practice ended at six forty-five. There was some tea and scones laid out so that the members could mingle afterwards. I knew I was about to head off and have a gourmet meal, but could I really give up the chance to chat with Heather’s acquaintances some more?
‘And we should all thank the lovely Margaret and Rachel,’ said Dean. ‘For once again bringing us refreshments.’
The scones were lovely. And the tea wasn’t the dishwater-coloured beverage I usually got offered at community meetings. I could get used to this.
‘You work with Roarke,’ said one of the men as I bit into my scone. ‘That must be exciting.’
I swallowed quickly and wiped my mouth, extending a hand. ‘Yeah. Yeah, it’s wonderful. I’m Ash. Sorry, I still haven’t got a handle on all the names of the townsfolk.’
‘Mark,’ he said with a shy smile. ‘You have a lovely voice, Ash.’
‘Really?’ I felt my nose scrunch up in surprise. ‘Well, there are probably worse singers out there. Somewhere. I noticed your voice though. It’s lovely. In fact there are a lot of great singers in this choir. Rachel is amazing.’
He nodded towards Dean Danger. ‘He brings out the best in us. We sounded like a herd of strangled cats before he arrived. He just puts everyone at ease. Gives them confidence.’
I glanced over at the choirmaster. He was playing a tune on the organ, while Margaret and a handsome man sang along. He looked about fifty, and he was tall with a great physique.
‘I had a nice chat with Margaret earlier on,’ I said. ‘Is that her husband?’
Mark nodded. ‘Yeah. A lucky man, so he is. Sure, if I had a woman who cooked like Margaret, I’d be as happy as Larry.’
‘Larry? His name is Larry?’ Oh, thank the stars. At least someone could be ruled out from having written that love letter.
‘No,’ said Mark. ‘It’s just an expression. His name isn’t Larry. It’s Mossy.’
I sighed. ‘Of course it is, Mark. Of course it is.’
‘I’m thinking of buying a tractor off him,’ Mark went on. ‘My one cut out on me when I was spraying slurry this morning. Do you like tractors, Ash?’
I sipped my tea, wondering if there was anyone else I could talk to. It didn’t even matter if their name began with M or not. ‘I … I’ve never really thought much about tractors,’ I told him.
‘Oh, you should!’ he said enthusiastically. ‘You really should. Let me tell you about the one I’m thinking of buying …’
He spoke about tractors for ten minutes more. I was one hundred percent sure that it was ten minutes, because I spent the time looking at my watch and telling him I really had to go. When I finally fought my way free, I was five minutes late to meet Jared. I rushed outside and saw him waiting for me, standing against the door of his car – a classic Porsche that I was slightly in love with.
He gave me a wave and a happy grin, but just as I was moving in his direction, Margaret ran after me, huffing with the effort.
‘Do you mind if I have a word?’ she asked.
I glanced at Jared. He shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘Take your time, ladies.’
I turned to Margaret. ‘Shoot,’ I said. ‘I’m all ears.’
She gave me a funny look. ‘You’re a lot more eloquent in your news articles, you know. I really enjoyed the piece about the new sandpit in the playground.’
Ah, the heady delights of Riddler’s Edge. I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I loved writing that article. An enormous new sandpit had been built in the playground of the local kindergarten school. It was large enough for a hundred children to play – which was funny, seeing as there was only one human kid under five in Riddler’s Edge. But boy, what a lucky kid. He had a teacher and a classroom all to himself, and now he had a sandbox too.
‘Thanks, I think,’ I said. ‘Is everything all right? You haven’t come to tell me that my singing voice burst your eardrums, have you? Because that I could totally understand.’
She smiled perplexedly. ‘My dear, you have the voice of an angel. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to warn you. About Mark.’
‘Mark? The guy who talks about tractors a lot?’
‘That’s the one,’ she confirmed. ‘The thing is, he had a little bit of a crush on Heather. Well, him and half the men in town, to be honest. It started off innocently enough, but she was getting worried about him towards the end. He could be a little bit overenthusiastic, according to her. She was worried that it would cause problems between Mark and his wife.’ She patted my shoulder. ‘You’re a pretty woman, just like Heather. I wouldn’t want you to wind up in the same position. If you give Mark an inch, he might just take a mile. And you know what they say about a mile travelled in a tractor.’
I shook my head. ‘I really don’t.’
‘They say that it’s a bumpy and uncomforta
ble ride.’
11. The Fruit of the Vein
Malachy had been right – I really had been making excuses to stave off this date for as long as possible. Sometimes the excuses had been real. Sometimes … well, sometimes I wondered why Jared kept on asking. I mean, sure, I had been busy with Pru the weekend before, helping her out at a fortune-telling engagement (I stood at the door of the tent in floaty clothes and jangling jewellery and took the money). But the weekend before that, the only arrangement I had was with a bottle of bubble bath.
Basically, I had been avoiding this date in the same way I might try to avoid a lobotomy. But Jared just kept on asking, in a more and more charming way each time. And on every occasion he asked me, he never once reminded me that I had already promised him a date. I had to give it to him – he knew exactly how to speak to women. Although seeing as his age was somewhere in the hundreds, he’d had a lot of time in which to practise.
Seeing as all I’d ever agreed to was one date, I wasn’t quite sure why I kept putting it off. Sometimes I convinced myself it was because he was, well, Jared – a too-gorgeous vampire who seemed to be on a mission to date every woman he met. Other times I convinced myself that his gorgeous looks just weren’t my kind of gorgeous. But let’s not pretend that what a guy looks like actually matters. Because anyone who’s ever liked someone knows – you either like them, or you don’t.
And I did like him. He was fun to be around. He was thoughtful and generous. There was also the slight little matter of him having once saved my life – he had even given me mouth-to-mouth afterwards. And at the time, the sight of his dripping-wet bleached hair and handsome face had definitely been welcome.
So just one date shouldn’t be a big deal at all – particularly since I’d scheduled it on a Monday, the least romantic day of the week. And yet, when I walked towards him, and he held open the car door, I couldn’t help but think that there was someone else who could make a Monday date feel far more special.
‘You look beautiful, Ash,’ Jared said, his voice filled with the perfect amount of huskiness.
‘Oh, this old thing?’ Even I couldn’t keep a straight face at that comment. This old thing had cost me half a week’s wages. It was by far the most expensive thing I’d ever owned. And I wish I could tell you it was covered in diamonds or pearls or something, given the price. But really, it was just a dark purple cocktail dress. Yes, I did say purple. Even I can be adventurous once in a while.
He shut my door behind me, climbed into the driver’s seat, and turned to smile at me. ‘So.’
That one little word somehow managed to sound incredibly sexy.
‘So,’ I said in reply.
‘Did I mention you look beautiful?’
I looked away from him, feeling his eyes travel up and down my form. ‘Give over,’ I said. ‘Can we just get going?’
With a turn of the key, the engine roared to life. ‘Your wish is my command.’
≈
Malachy’s restaurant was called The Fruit of the Vein. As soon as we walked in, he took over from his hostess (a leggy redhead called Esmerelda) and led us to what he assured us was, ‘the perfect table.’
We followed him to a secluded corner, where a candlelit table was waiting.
‘Didn’t I ask you for your best seating?’ Jared pointed to the centre of the room. ‘Somewhere over there?’
‘You did,’ Malachy agreed. ‘But I thought Ash would prefer this area.’
I gave him a little hug. Despite all his teasing and gossiping, he really was a lovely man. ‘You thought right.’
It seemed that opening my car door wasn’t the end of Jared’s old-fashioned behaviour. He attempted to pull out my chair for me too. Unfortunately, Malachy was also attempting to do the same thing. While the two men enjoyed their little stand-off, I sat in the other chair.
Malachy chuckled. ‘Seems like she’s outsmarted us,’ he said as he handed me a menu. ‘There’s a red on there I know you’ll love. A real cheeky little number made by the O’Mara winery.’
‘Sounds great,’ I said.
Jared’s face fell. ‘I was thinking we could have something a bit fancier.’
Malachy stood awkwardly aside. Well, I say awkwardly, but clearly he was enjoying this just a little bit.
‘But then again,’ Jared went on, ‘I only wanted to get the most expensive wine in the place to impress you. And I don’t think forcing you to drink something you don’t want would be all that impressive. So … you should choose the drinks.’
I felt a warm smile bubble up. ‘Good save,’ I said.
Malachy grinned. ‘Indeed. One would almost think he was on his best behaviour. I’ll be back with your wine in a moment. Take all the time you need to decide on your meals.’
After the first few hiccups, the rest of the meal went by like a dream. I’d never spent this much time alone with Jared. He was a lot more interesting than I’d given him credit for. He’d travelled widely, taken part in amazing expeditions and adventures, and he also seemed to have read just about every book in the world. Although I suppose that when you’d been alive for as long as he had, you had a lot of reading time on your hands.
Despite the name of the restaurant, Malachy catered for all tastes. There were some items labelled Red on the menu. I knew by now that, in this neck of the woods, red was the code for the kinds of foods vampires liked to eat. And as much fun as I was having with Jared, it did concern me that he opted for all the same things as me – scallops to start, beef wellington for main, and Mississippi mud pie for dessert.
‘You know, I’ve seen you and Pru chow down before,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you get a red drink with your dessert?’
He looked down at his coffee. ‘Maybe because I was trying to make you forget that I’m a vampire so you’d go out with me again. Clearly I wasn’t successful.’
I frowned. ‘You think I’ve been avoiding this date because you’re a vampire?’
He took a sip of his coffee. ‘Well it must take a lot of getting used to,’ he said. ‘A few weeks ago you had no idea all of this existed. Now …’
I took a bite of my dessert. ‘Now I feel more comfortable than I’ve ever felt before,’ I told him. ‘Nothing ever felt real in my old life. I was always convinced that there was something just in the corner of my vision, or that there was some great big lie and I needed to uncover the answer.’
He chuckled. ‘I bet you just ate up the Matrix.’
I pushed my bowl away, having finished every single bite. ‘Yeah. That and pretty much any film or book about finally discovering the truth of the world. But discovering this world is a lot better than being part of some computer simulation. And like I said – I’m comfortable with it. So eat what you need to – I’d rather you did that than felt hungry for the rest of our date.’
He grinned. ‘The rest of our date? You’re not just going to run home now that you’ve fulfilled your obligation?’
‘Mmm, maybe,’ I said. ‘I guess it all depends on where you’re going to take me next.’
‘Somewhere I think you’ll like,’ he replied. ‘And you don’t need to worry about me getting too close to your neck while we’re there. Not that I would.’ He wiggled his eyebrows. ‘Unless you wanted me to.’
I felt my face flush. I knew by now that a vampire bite was harmless as long as it didn’t go too far. Better than harmless, in fact – when Miriam had bitten me, it had made me feel invigorated. It was a little bit unfortunate that she hadn’t enjoyed the experience as much as I had. What was it she said? Oh yeah – my blood tasted like crud.
‘Never going to happen,’ I said.
His grin remained intact. ‘Yeah, I didn’t think so. But uncomfortable come-ons aside, what do you say? Do you really want to make this date last a bit longer?’
Did I? I was having a great time, it was true. I was just about to tell him yes, when I noticed a stunning-looking brunette glaring my way. She was at a table with three other equally beautiful women and, as she
whispered something to them, they all looked my way, each one giving me the evil eye.
‘Ash? Are you all right?’
I nodded to the table of glaring women. ‘Which one of those did you go out with?’
He looked over at the table, and a sheepish expression formed on his face. ‘You’re not really going to like the answer, but I don’t want to lie to you. I went out with all of them. But it was nothing, honestly. Just fooling around. A couple of dates. Nothing serious.’
Oh, sweet mercy. What was I doing with this guy? I was a twenty-nine-year-old woman. Possibly thirty, seeing as I didn’t know my exact date of birth. Either way, I was old enough to know better.
‘Nothing serious,’ I repeated. ‘Sort of like this date, then. Good thing it’s a one-off.’
Either he was a very good actor, or he was genuinely hurt by my remark. ‘Ash, I know I have a reputation as a bit of a ladies’ man,’ he began. ‘And it’s a well-deserved reputation, too. But did you ever stop and think that maybe it’s just because I haven’t found the right woman yet?’
I looked down at my empty bowl. ‘That’s a good line, Jared.’
He reached across and grabbed my hand. ‘It’s not a line. You’ve been living at the Vander Inn for weeks now, and in that time I’ve gotten to know you. I know you like raspberries in your porridge. I know you love zombie TV shows. I know you can be reading a high-brow tome one day and a cheesy romance the next. I know you love minestrone soup, and Irish stew, and red wine. I know you love Fuzz. I know you’re open-minded, and smart, and sexy as hell. Why wouldn’t I want to have more than a one-off with a woman like you? More importantly – why do you have such a hard time believing a man could like you as much as I do?’
It’s not often that I’m lost for words. But just then I was struggling to come up with anything to say. Eventually, the silence grew awkward and I looked him in the eye. ‘I don’t have a hard time believing any man could like me, Jared. I don’t have a hard time believing you like me, either. And I like you right back. I just … I just wish you’d stop coming on so strong, that’s all.’ As I said it, I realised that I’d finally come to the truth of the matter. He did come on too strong. ‘You have to stop acting like this is the start of something, because I don’t even know if I like you in the romantic sense yet. But … I do know that despite this serious turn in the conversation, I’ve had fun with you tonight.’
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