Crimson Shadows

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Crimson Shadows Page 3

by Trisha Baker


  Eight! Ellie thought with sudden dismay. That was five whole hours away—what on earth was she supposed to do until then? Briefly, Ellie thought of calling Lee and telling him about this shocking development.

  Lee . . . was her longing to meet Simon Baldevar somehow disloyal to Lee Winslow, her much loved adopted father who'd selflessly forgone transformation so Ellie could have a daytime parent and protector?

  Ellie didn't think her eagerness to meet Simon detracted from the special bond she. shared with Uncle Lee. How could she feel anything but profound love and respect for a man who'd not only given up his chance at immortality for her but also his medical career? Lee Winslow had retired from active practice when Ellie was born and conducted private research in a lab at the house until Ellie was twelve just so she'd always have someone available to take her to school and a thousand other daytime affairs because it was out of the question for Meghann to allow some mortal babysitter with sharp eyes and sharper curiosity into the house. Once Ellie was a little older, Lee opted to teach at the Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons, still not going back to practicing gynecology for fear he wouldn't be available if Ellie had an emergency during the day and needed her parent.

  Ellie treasured her daytime with Lee and the stop they always made at Carvel before heading home. Over a sundae, Ellie would chatter about her day to Lee, who always listened eagerly and cheered her accomplishments while providing consolation when she told him of her distance from the other children. Lee was the only mortal Ellie could be honest with, the only who understood her confusion at living in a house of vampires and then trying to fit into the mortal world.

  But terrific as Lee was, Ellie had never been able to think of him as Daddy. That word and all the senti-

  Mi< iii behind it belonged to the shadowy presence she mum nines felt in her dreams, that of warm, strong 11.11 >< Iholding her while a soothing, deep voice ii i .< Hied lullabies. Mom said she didn't think it likely I IIM remembered her infancy and Daddy caring for li< i. Inn in their family nothing was impossible. When- i vi i Kllie had that dream, she always woke up with a Ii I Img of complete security and peace and a cry of

  >
  l o her, that unseen man and the tenderness he I ,II liated was Daddy and no one could take his place. In

  ii >i her five hours, Ellie would find out if Simon Balde- V.II was the daddy she sometimes woke up crying out 11 > i or if that dream figure was simply a fantasy her sub- 11 mscious had produced from her longing and need.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Scarlett."

  "Mickey, you startled me! What a coincidence, meeting here. I didn't even know you were back in New York." Ellie smiled up at her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Mickey Hollingsworth, whom she hadn't seen in a few weeks.

  "I only got in a few days ago," Mickey said and sprawled his long, lanky form next to her on the bench. "Why don't you tell me why you're sitting in Central Park looking as forlorn and abandoned as Oliver Twist?"

  Ellie laughed and told Mickey the unhappy story of her job hunt, relieved to have a friend to talk to and take her mind off the impending meeting with her father. She and Mickey had met through friends at Cooper Union about six months ago and hit it off immediately.

  Mickey, with his long black hair that always looked like he'd just tumbled out of bed, infectious booming laugh and self-deprecating sense of humor had fascinated Ellie when they met. Though he was only nineteen, Mickey seemed so much more mature and interesting than the boys Ellie mingled with at home who were only interested in drinking, sun tanning, fighting, and getting laid—in that order. As for tthe boys at Cooper Union, most of them were a lot older than Ellie and if they weren't fiercely competitive and jealous of her talent, they tended to treat her like an adored little sister—hardly surprising considering the flat-chested twelve year old she'd been freshman year. So Mickey, son of minor British gentry and another child prodigy who'd finished Oxford at the age of eighteen and was now "a lazy layabout leeching off my trust fund" was a godsend to Ellie.

  For his part, Mickey told Ellie he was fascinated with her "Scarlett O'Hara eyes" and "your impossible American devotion to work." After their first meeting, their relationship took on a comfortable pattern of long talks and other activities in whatever hotel or friend's borrowed flat Mickey happened to be staying in when he visited New York.

  At first, Ellie had thought she might be in love with Mickey and his quicksilver charm but a few months of now-you-see-me-now-you-don't romancing quickly disabused her of that notion. It would be fatal to fall for someone who refused to take anything, including himself, very seriously. But Ellie did enjoy his company so she continued seeing him when he came to town. She'd confided to her mother that she was seeing him just for fun and Meghann told her that was fine as long her heart was as divorced from the situation as she claimed.

  "Sod it!" Mickey exclaimed indignantly when Ellie finished her story. "If those bloody fools can't appreciate you, they don't deserve you. Besides, you can start your own business with this rich buyer your teacher found for you. You never said his name."

  That's right, I didn't. . . Michael," Ellie retorted, using his real and loathed first name to pay him back for not telling her the last time he'd abandoned New York in favor of whatever city (and girls) took his fancy for two weeks.

  "Cheeky today, are we?" Mickey returned. "What is it a bleedin' state secret, then? Who's your buyer— the King of England, the President, the Shah of Iran?"

  "No one important," Ellie demurred, remembering her mother's admonitions that she never reveal her father's true identity to anyone.

  "Your father has enemies," Meghann had said over and over. "Vicious, brutal creatures that would think nothing of harming you to get at him. And don't think you're safe because you say his name to someone during the day. You think vampires can't employ humans to spy for them? Never, never tell anyone the name Baldevar and tell me or Charles immediately if anyone says the name to you."

  Ellie hardly thought Mickey a vampire spy but her mother's warnings weren't something she took lightly. And Ellie was far too wound up about their impending meeting to say her father's name aloud without all kinds of embarrassing blushes and stammers that would alert Mickey or anyone else to how special this particular client was to her.

  "You're right," Mickey agreed cheerfully. "Your old client's name isn't important. What is important is whether you'll have lunch with me and then maybe come see my room at the Sherry Nether- land."

  Ellie shrugged nonchalantly though she privately thought Mickey might have just offered her her only chance at relaxation. "I'm not hungry."

  "No?" Mickey questioned, playing along with her.

  "No," Ellie said firmly and then favored him with a cool smile. "I'd rather see your hotel room and skip lunch ... if that's all right with you."

  "No complaints here," Mickey smirked and triumphantly plucked up her portfolio. "None at all."

  "How's that ravishing sister of yours?" Mickey asked as they crossed Fifth Avenue.

  "Maggie's fine. You know, she really liked you." In public, Ellie used her mother's mortal nickname because it was close to the Mommy she'd been used to saying as a child. Ellie hated having to tell the world that her mother was her sister but what else could you do when your ninety-year-old vampire mother was never going to lo6k a day over eighteen?

  Ellie sighed, cursing the blasted sunlight that took her mother away from her. Ellie might be enjoying Mickey's company, but the person she needed to talk to was Mom. She was the only one who'd be able to understand Elbe's conflicting feelings about meeting her father.

  When she first heard Professor Barrett's shocking news, Ellie felt a brief pique that her mother hadn't warned her of Simon Baldevar's impending visit but quickly realized Mom would never keep something like her father's homecoming a secret from Ellie. Most likely, this visit was going to stun Meghann just as much as it had Ellie.

  "I'm glad I met with Maggie's approval," Mickey smiled and
wrapped his hand around Ellie's waist, using the cover of her blazer to start a stealthy, insidious climb toward her breasts. "You know, I have a fine mate back home she might be interested in. We could double up together one night."

  Ellie playfully slapped Mickey's hand away. "Maggie doesn't date much." Actually, Mom didn't date at all; she'd never made any attempt to see other men while Ellie was growing up. Ellie knew Mom used to date Jimmy Delacroix, another vampire and good friend of

  the family, but that had been over before Ellie was born.

  Ellie sighed, remembering that Jimmy Delacroix was

  proof there was a darker side to her father's nature, a

  side Mom had only lately even hinted at. Simon, Meghann had told her, could be quite ruthless when it

  came to dealing with anyone he considered an enemy

  or simply beneath him .. . like mortals. Ellie and Lee Winslow being the sole exceptions to that rule.

  Mcghann had never approved of this behavior. In

  fact, she'd been so disgusted by it that she left Simon

  for over forty years before they finally reunited, Ellie and M ikal being the result of their reconciliation.

  "Why did you go back with him?" Ellie had asked her.

  "Your father's a complex man," was Meghann's response. "You have to understand he was born in different times, Ellie. Not that that's any sort of excuse but he doesn't have the same belief system we do. He grew up thinking his nobility made him superior to anyone born with a lesser rank than he had. In his time, a man of his stature could brutalize his servants or his woman and no one would think less of him for it Becoming a vampire simply exacerbated that inborn elitism. Forget about making him treat mortals fairly; you don't know what I went through to get him to treat me as an equal. It took a great deal of argument and that separation for him to understand that if he wanted me to be his wife, he'd have to treat me the way I or any other woman deserves to be treated, as a treasured partner and not some cowering subordinate."

  "And when he got that through his head, you went back with him."

  Meghann had smiled at Ellie's astuteness. "Yes and because, though I don't think he'll admit it, you changed him, Ellie. Raising our children separately Ml I you'd have as normal and happy a childhood as we could give you . . . Honey, that was the first truly unselfish thing I'd ever known your father to do. If anything can melt the stone around his heart and make Simon see that some of his . . . ways . . . are wrong, it's you."

  Meghann would never say exactly what 'ways' so distressed her but Ellie knew they were at the root of Jimmy Delacroix's transformation.

  From earliest childhood, one of her mother's strictest rules was that Ellie never mention Simon's name to Jimmy? All Mom would tell her was that while she and Simon were separated, Jimmy had been Mom's mortal boyfriend. Mom had never planned to transform Jimmy, saying a vampire's life wasn't for him. But Daddy got so jealous over Mom having someone else in her life, that he hurt Jimmy terribly and it was either transformation or death so Jimmy became a vampire.

  Ellie knew there were considerable holes in her mother's careful explanation that everything worked out well enough in the end, with Jimmy adapting to his new existence. Mom would never tell Ellie exacdy how Daddy hurt Jimmy, just that Ellie should never mention Simon so Jimmy wouldn't get upset. Ellie had often wondered if maybe Meghann didn't want her to talk to Jimmy about Simon, not so much out of consideration for Jimmy's feelings, but because Mom was afraid of what Jimmy would tell her about her father.

  "Get your head out of the clouds," Mickey said and tapped her forehead lightly. "We're here."

  Ellie followed him into the small suite, acknowledging that the spectacular view of the park was worth whatever astronomical fees Mickey was paying for the room. Mickey handed her a scotch and soda and they soon found themselves rolling around on the king-sized bed.

  N.aked and doing her best to match Mickey's frenetic rhythm, Ellie wondered if there was something the matter with her ... if she might be frigid. Or was Mickey a bad partner? Ellie had kissed and done a little more than that before she met Mickey and always thought sex would simply incorporate all that fondling with a few more intimacies. But when she went to bed with Mickey, the only thing she'd ever felt aside from the unexpectedly sharp pain of losing her virginity, was irritation at the unlubricated condom chaffing her.

  Why did Mickey treat foreplay in such a perfunctory manner, giving her a brief kiss and cursory grope before he started pounding away on top of her, Ellie wondered. Mickey didn't seem at all interested in her satisfaction. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten her entirely as he charged after his own release.

  But maybe Ellie was being unfair, blaming her disillusionment with sex on Mickey. As evidenced by the awkward way he behaved once they got their clothes off, most likely he didn't have much sexual experience either. Maybe they could experiment together.

  With a final grunt and harsh thrust, Mickey came, immediately rolling off her with a good-natured ruffling of her hair more suitable to a golden retriever than a lover.

  "Got a cigarette?" Ellie asked, moving the white sheet over her body while Mickey removed the condom.

  Mickey reached into his trouser pocket and tossed Ellie a pack of Galois and his silver lighter. "I bet that doctor father of yours doesn't know you smoke."

  "I think he'd be more upset at this," Ellie gestured to their naked bodies, "than a little smoke." Actually, that wasn't true. Lee was appalled at her occasional cigarette and so was Mom, though she felt it would be hypocritical to chasten Ellie when she was a longtime smoker herself. As for sex, Ellie had gone to Meghann and Lee when she decided to sleep with Mickey; Lee wrote out a prescription for the pill after a long talk about responsibility and caution. Of course Ellie insisted Mickey use the condom as well to protect against disease.

  Ellie inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke through her nose, watching Mickey wrap a thick cotton towel around his narrow hips. "Want some company?" In some of the lurid romance novels Ellie kept hidden in a milk carton under her bed, there were many erotic adventures to be had in the shower.

  "No time, love. I've got a meeting with a band promoter in an hour—that's right, I forgot to tell you! Your Mickey isn't going to be completely useless Eu- rotrash any longer. The old father gave me a few dollars and I'm building my nightclub."

  "That's fantastic!" A few months ago, Mickey had confided that he had no use for the Oxford education his parents had forced on him, that his ambition lay in establishing the biggest, scariest, sexiest Goth club the world had ever seen.

  Complimenting Ellie's talent, Mickey informed her he was a huge Clive Barker fan and asked if she could design an interior for his club that would resemble the underground labyrinth in the movie Nightbreed. Ellie, familiar with the book and movie, had given Mickey a few preliminary sketches of a structure that would resemble a large haunted mansion with a maze of careening rooms and dead ends to amuse his patrons.

  "Fantastic for us both," Mickey smiled and took a few drags from her cigarette. "That beach house isn't going to be your only commission. I found a big old mansion falling apart on Long Island I can have for a song. Say, why don't you come with me tomorrow and take a tour of the site? You can tailor our original ideas to the house's structure, maybe draw up some blueprints."

  Two commissions in one day—Ellie was on her way to her own business! "I'd be delighted."

  "Shall we say noon tomorrow, then? I'll meet you at your house. Now I've got to hurry but you feel free to lie around, maybe order up some of that lunch I didn't have a chance to give you. Just shut the door on your way out." Mickey ruffled her hair again and bounded into the bathroom.

  Ellie thought of ordering a sandwich from room service but the adrenaline excitement of the day suddenly wore off and she felt as weak and wrung out as a used up washcloth. Ellie glanced at the clock on the white and gold gilt nightstand—4:30. She had time for a nice, refreshing nap before she showered and changed to meet her fat
her.

  Ellie, coming out of a dreamless sleep, turned on her side and bolted upright with a panic stricken yelp when she saw the time illuminated on the small digital clock by the beside. Seven thirty—she hadn't meant to sleep so late! Now she was going to be late for her first meeting with her father.

  Ellie grabbed her purse and hurried into the shower, shampooing and bathing in a matter of minutes. At the large marble countertop, Ellie appropriated Mickey's toothbrush and searched the medicine cabinet for aspirin with no luck. Apparently Mickey didn't suffer from headaches like the one swiftly closing in on Ellie's temples.

  Ellie brushed her thick brown hair quickly, knowing she had no time to blow dry her shoulder-length, multi- layered pageboy properly. Ellie finger-combed the waves as best she could and pulled her hair off her face with a white headband she found at the bottom of her purse. A pair of gold studs gave the simple style a litde pizzazz.

  Thank God she'd never needed much makeup. Ellie simply applied a bit of powder to her shiny nose, some coral toned lip-gloss, and matching eye shadow. After she dressed, Ellie gave herself a cool appraisal. The cream silk suit and burnt ochre sleeveless shirt looked good against her suntan. Her hair and makeup were neat if uninspired. Ellie sighed for the daydreams where she met her father wearing her most stylish clothes and her too thick, wavy hair was on its best behavior ... no time for all that now.

  7:50—Ellie liberated her car from the parking garage at Sixtieth and Second, then sped down to the Village, racing through yellow lights, cutting other drivers off and illegally cruising through bus lanes, all the while keeping her eye out for police cars. All she needed now was to get pulled over and ticketed. Forget her mother's annoyance at a fifth ticket in as many weeks, who knew what time she'd get to the studio if a cop wrote her up?

  Ellie made it to Cooper Union without incident and actually found a parking space across the street from the school on Astor Place, a minor miracle that Ellie considered a good omen. Though she'd broken her neck to get down here, Ellie had missed the eight o'clock deadline . . . her wristwatch informed her it was now a quarter after.

 

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