by Leila Adams
OFFERING
Blood Star Vampires
Leila Adams
Copyright © Leila Adams
All rights reserved
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To my best friend,
the only man I have ever loved,
my husband
Table of Contents
Part 1
Denial
Chapter 1
UNFOLDING THE DELICATE LINGERIE from the tissue paper, I held it up, rubbing the skin-caressing silk between my fingertips. My stomach fluttered at the thought of wearing it tonight. In my mind, I could still hear the young French woman in the boutique rave how très magnifique it looked on me when I tried it on, and how it would be a crime if I didn't buy it. The guêpière had set me back a small fortune, but she was right. It would be worth every cent to see the look on Benjamin's face when he unwrapped his Christmas gift. “He’s going to love it,” I said with a little squeal.
I was talking to myself—but so what? I had a right to be a little crazy. In, I checked the clock, eight hours and thirty-seven minutes Benjamin would be here. We had three glorious days together before I left for Paris. Just thinking about it sent a rush of anticipation up my spine. I was looking forward to this evening. I was looking forward to Benjamin’s touch, to his taste, to the feel of his bare skin on mine.
Between dance moves, I packed the sexy corset in the vintage Vuitton suitcase. When was the last time I had been this excited about anything? I couldn’t remember when. I’d lost too many years hiding from society, avoiding relationships of any kind, especially romantic ones, afraid someone would notice I was a fraud, an impostor trying to blend in with the crowd. Exposing my secrets could only lead to catastrophe.
Flipping the top of my luggage closed, I eyed the gaping alligator-like zipper teeth skeptically. Wrestling those jaws shut wouldn’t be easy. Only wanting to play animal tamer once, I pulled out my phone and swiped the screen to ‘Reminders.’ My makeup! I was so distracted thinking about tonight my cosmetic bag was still in the bathroom. Swaying to the music coming from the little white earbuds, I collected the brightly colored pouch and stuffed it into my Keepall. With a final check, I fought the battle with Beast Vuitton and won.
Humming to Coldplay, I sashayed into the kitchen and filled my coffee mug. Cupping the smooth, brown Starbucks souvenir in my palms, I double-checked my to-do list. A quick scroll through showed the only errands left were those I planned to run downtown after I checked into the hotel.
I looked at the time. Only eight hours and nineteen minutes to go now. Excitement vibrated through me like bees buzzing under my skin.
Sipping the warm liquid fortification, I shuffled-danced my fuzzy slippers out to the porch to pick up the morning paper. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but I still liked reading an actual paper with my breakfast. Pulling the front door open sunlight glared off the creamy-white stucco walls piercing my eyes, making me squint and raise a hand against the bright reflection. It took a moment for my pupils to constrict. As the landing came into focus, the sights and sounds of the world around me slowed to a crawl. My fingers went slack. The cup slipped from my grasp, rolled onto its side, and splashing dark crimson down the front of me. With a hard pop, the mug landed on the tiled entryway, exploding into a bloom of ceramic fragments, bathing everything in blood.
Draped across the threshold was a huge bouquet of black calla lilies. Thick, obscene-looking ebony spikes jutted out of velvety folds; a fetid stench filled the air. Wide bloodred ribbon tied in a large bow wrapped the stems, hiding a small envelope. I removed the stationery with a shaking hand, careful to avoid the dark petals as if they might sting. Pulling out the card I found, precise, elegant strokes floating on white linen.
My Darling Lily,
Have you missed me? I made a promise to you years ago, one I intend to keep. I have waited patiently and watched from the shadows. It is our destiny to be together. Do not fret my dear, the time for our reunion is almost at hand.
Erdo
In a single moment, my world came crashing down around me, never to be the same again. Erdo hadn’t forgotten me. Dread flooded my chest; it was my worst nightmare come true. Was this how I’d have to live my life now? Waiting for him, fearing he’d show up at my door any day. He’d already ruined my life; couldn’t he leave me alone? After all those years of silence, why was he making his presence known today?
Oh God. Stomach acid churned in my gut, bubbling its way up my esophagus. I gagged, threw a hand over my mouth and ran for the bathroom. I barely made it over the toilet before my body violently purged itself. Red tears streaked down my cheeks as I sat on the cold marble floor.
This couldn't be happening. Not now.
Eyes widening, I caught myself. “Stop it!” I whispered. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I had to get hold of my emotions. If I didn’t, the others would sense I was upset, and I couldn't have that. Not when I didn't know what was happening with him. Whatever it took, I would protect them.
Getting up, I wiped the fear from my mind and numbly focused on getting out of the house as quickly as possible.
***
Pushing the hotel door open, I thanked my lucky stars a room was available this early in the day. I looked around as I set my shoulder tote on the tall dresser. The breathtaking view of the Pacific outside the glass sliders caught my attention. Once the bellman unloaded my luggage from the cart, I headed for the balcony.
I stood with my forearms resting on the cold metal railing, twelve stories high, and looked out over the scene below. Couples and families whirled around the temporary ice rink in Justin Herman Plaza to the sounds of Perry Como singing, “Here we come a-caroling…”
Along the horizon, the pale blue sky was clear and cloudless, contrary to the weather prediction. Sunlight sparkled and shimmered like tiny flecks of mica on the blue-gray waves of the bay. Powerful breakers, alive and unrestrained, grew restless and made their age-old journey back out to sea, tethered by the invisible strings of the moon. Frothy whitecaps lazily pirouetted and leaped in an effort to touch the sky along the water's edge. Barely detectable, the breeze carried in a hint of brine and stirred my hair. It was a beautiful, crisp December afternoon.
Erdo’s message this morning had stirred up a hornet's nest of concerns. I felt weary to the bone. I’d tried to compartmentalize my fear, but it was a struggle to keep it in check. It wasn’t smart to let my guard down, to let myself believe Erdo wasn’t out there biding his time, but I couldn't—no wouldn't—let him steal my life from me again.
Benjamin was coming today. Part of me wanted to look the other way, ignore the threat and celebrate the fact that he was on a plane right now. But another part of me wasn’t going to be foolish about the reality of the situation. I shook m
y shoulders and arms to relieve the tension. My emotions were all over the place, pinging like a silver pinball between excitement and trepidation, elation and doom. I had no idea where they would land from one minute to the next. When had my life gone from quiet isolation to drama central?
The gentle warmth helped ease the tension from my body. I needed to starve off the turmoil brewing in my head. It wasn't fair to Benjamin. And really, wasn't my sudden concern just a defensive mechanism, a tactic I'd taken I’d taken in the past to avoid involvement? It had become second nature to seal myself off from human contact and emotions. For so long I had refused to let anyone into my heart. After so many years, would I finally be willing to take a chance with Benjamin?
My thoughts raced ahead to the evening. Basking in the soothing sunlight, nervousness and anxiety slipped away like a slow melting thaw, replaced by a promise of things to come. A leisurely awareness rose, and anticipation became a delicious distraction producing mental images that stirred passion deep in my core. I was looking forward to this evening. It was long awaited, censured and denied. Desire, once a tiny sapling, now grew strong, weaving her delicate tendrils into my spine, securing a stronghold on my body and mind. Having been left to thrive she was a force to be reckoned with, a carnal invasion that demanded attention.
At that moment, I made the conscious decision to lock the morning fear away in a distant corner of my mind and enjoy the few precious hours I had with Benjamin.
I looked out over the Embarcadero. Along the waterfront, a colonnade of palm trees stood opposite the Ferry Building and its 240-foot-tall clock tower. The Hornblower Yacht berthed quietly in the harbor, waiting for its evening voyage of partygoers. And in the distance, standing guard over it all was the Bay Bridge. This was San Francisco.
Walking back into the room, I began unpacking. After hanging my clothes in the closet, I emptied my Keepall and stowed the contents in the hotel safe. I had errands to run and stepped into the dressing area to check my makeup.
Standing before a full-length mirror, I gazed at my reflection and tried to see myself as others might. I saw a young woman with golden blond waves that fell across her shoulders and back. Her aquamarine eyes, reminiscent of a Caribbean reef, were bright and clear. Her flawless skin, smooth, fresh, and radiant would not betray her. Her toned body was long and lean, muscles defined and sculpted. She stood five foot nine, weighing 135 pounds. She looked alive and beautiful. The black wool skirt hugged her body. The jacket, trimmed at the waist and neckline in black satin was elegant though understated, nothing that would stand out in a crowd. This is what people saw. But no one knew what was behind the pretty face and clothes.
Snagging my purse from the dresser, I walked out.
***
Returning to the Hyatt, I dropped my packages on the bed and hung up the dress I picked up that afternoon from a local designer. In the bathroom, I turned on the tub faucet and added a few drops of orange blossom oil. As the water rose, steam fills the air with a sweet citrus fragrance. I mixed an evening cocktail, enjoying the quiet, and undressed. When the tub was full, I stepped into the heavenly warmth, lay back, and sipped my drink. The water heated my skin, returning my temperature to normal after the chilly afternoon.
Getting out, I put on a plush hotel bathrobe and applied a fragrant moisturizer over my body. My skin was highly sensitized with anticipation, responding to my touch, sending currents up and down my spine. I dried my hair, pinned it up in an elegant chignon, and carefully applied my makeup.
From the dresser, I removed the lingerie bag and took out the black silk guêpière. I shimmied into a tiny black thong and wrapped the corset around myself, fastening the hooks. Retrieving the lace-topped thigh-high nylons, I carefully pulled them up my legs, where the rows of silicon kept them in place. I stepped in front of the mirror. Benjamin would like it.
I donned the black dress and new heels, then pulled the necklace, bracelet, and earrings from the hotel safe, and put them on. Dabbing perfume on my wrists, I dropped the bottle into my purse. It was time to go. With an entire grove of butterflies taking flight in my stomach, I grabbed my coat, took one final look in the mirror, and headed to the restaurant.
Chapter 2
BENJAMIN AND I agreed to meet at Joe DiMaggio's in North Beach at seven o'clock. I had this thing—I suppose it was a coping mechanism to make myself feel more comfortable in unfamiliar surroundings—about being the first one in the door, and arrived at six-thirty. Entering the restaurant I was greeted with a blast of humid air and Frank Sinatra singing, "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm." The establishment was alive with nostalgic music, people talking and laughing, the clink of glasses and dishware, hurried guests and waitstaff. I checked in with an attractive dark-haired hostess then found my way to the bar.
The bartender was quick to head in my direction. "What can I get you?"
"A glass of Merlot, please," I said as I slid onto the barstool and looked around. The 1930's style chophouse had a masculine feel to it with plush, tufted leather booths, dark rich woods, and warm jeweled tones. Large, framed, black and white stills of Joe’s baseball career, wife Marilyn Monroe, and friends in the Rat Pack balanced the heaviness and gave the restaurant a bit of glamor. Behind a long curved marble counter, a large mirror captured the reflection and sparkle of glassware and colored liquor bottles.
The barman returned with my wine, and I watched anxiously for Benjamin as people filtered into the establishment. Some headed to the bar; others huddled together around small tables, and an interesting group of twelve walked in. The women shared kisses while the men did that half-hug thing and thumped one another on the back. I envied their easy friendship and connection.
As I watched the group, I couldn’t help thinking about my relationship with Benjamin and how it had evolved. We met ten years ago at an antique store down the street from my office. I had asked the dealer if he could locate some items I needed for a project I was working on, but he couldn’t help. Ben overheard the conversation. Lucky for me, he ran an import, export business out of Washington, D.C., specializing in European antiques, which was exactly what I was looking for.
He became my go-to agent for hard to find items. Back then, we had a business relationship, not a personal one. Benjamin was grounded in a happy marriage, so I was safe. I didn’t feel threatened as our friendship grew.
Then his wife died in a car accident three years ago. Ben was here working on a project with me when he got the call. Circumstances threw us together. In those sad days that followed, he turned to me. I was a sympathetic shoulder to lean on. We spent long nights on the phone talking things over. Because I was outside his daily life, I provided a respite from his sorrow.
But things changed this year. Our relationship turned intimate. Had the spark always been there, buried deep under the surface? A back-bowing rush of excitement cinched my spine, leaving me aroused and impatient. I smiled. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. We talked every day but hadn't seen each other in months. He was in for a big surprise when he got here.
The way I looked had changed so much since the last time I saw him. I was excited to see his expression but had no idea how he would react. I was a little concerned. Over the past few months, I'd mentioned I'd taken a few spa vacations and had some minor surgery "to keep things up." I hoped he liked what he saw and that it wasn't too much of a shock. I prayed my explanations for why I looked so much younger were reasonable enough for him to accept.
As I rolled the stem of the wine glass between my fingers, a tall businessman sat down next to me. The pointed tips of his cowboy boots stuck out under his dark blue suit. I wondered where he'd left his Stetson.
"Evening ma'am. My name's Jim," he said with a Texas twang, tipping his head. "I'm new in town. Just got in from Austin this afternoon. You happen to have a restaurant recommendation?"
I rolled my eyes. He was obviously looking for a hookup. Didn't he see the sign over my head that flashed "Unavailable?" My body language m
ade it clear I was not interested in conversation or companionship. My eyes did not roam the room making casual contact with men. I was seated at the bar with a clear "off limits" force field around me. My folded legs were tucked neatly inside the barrier, as was everything else. I hadn't even taken off my coat. I cocked my head to the side and looked at the cowboy.
Before I could answer, a familiar voice behind me said, "Olivia?"
A thrill shot through me, and I whirled around to face Benjamin, who, as he often did, took my breath away. A boyish grin played across his lips and a twinkle lit up his hazel eyes. His thick, sable-colored hair had grown out a tad on top and was just mussed enough from travel to look sexy. It made me want to run my fingers through it.
He gave me a full body scan with his eyes, and I mirrored the gesture. His classic good looks reminded me of Renascence sculptures. Over six feet tall, his muscled frame gave the impression he preferred the outdoors to the gym.
"Damn, Olivia; I almost didn't recognize you with the blond hair. You look stunning!" He took a step back, opening his arms and raising his dark brows. "But how...?" he broke off mid-sentence.
I needed to stop that train of thought. "Benjamin!" I cried, slipping off the chair, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. The kiss was quick but had much the same effect as a match strike under tinder on my nerves. Distracted by the visual, which I knew he had difficulty rationalizing, Benjamin was too preoccupied to return the kiss.
"Olivia, you don't just look younger, you look young. Time marches on for the rest of us, but for you, the clock runs backward. I don't know how you did it, but you should bottle it and sell it. You could make a fortune. God, Olivia you look great."
