by Lynsay Sands
Terri bit her lip and glanced at Dave, who patted her arm reassuringly. “She’s just stressed out with this deadline. She loves you. We both do, and we hate to see you unhappy. You’ve been so unhappy for so long, Terri. And it’s upsetting to see you throw something good away.”
“But he’s dying, Dave,” Terri complained. “I can’t watch that happen again.”
“Are you sure he’s dying? Do you know for sure? Perhaps it’s something chronic, not terminal. Or maybe he’s got five to ten good years. Do you want to miss those to avoid six months to a year of hard times? I’m not saying it would be easy at the end, but can’t you enjoy the time you do have and not worry so much about what you’ll lose?” He added, “You know, Sandi’s right. She could walk out the door and die tomorrow. So could I. Or even, you. Even if Bastien is terminally ill, he might outlive you. We can’t live on might-bes. Because nothing is set in stone.”
Terri lowered her head, her mind running in circles. Confusion seemed to be the key word for the last day and a half. She was exhausted, and that made it difficult to think.
“You look done in,” Dave commented. “Why don’t you lie down on the couch and rest a bit? I’ll wake you when the tea’s ready.”
“Yes. I think I’ll do that,” Terri murmured. “I’ve been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and more than thirteen of those were spent in airports or airplanes.”
“Then you can definitely use the sleep. Have a lie-down.” He urged her onto the couch, grabbed one of the fluffy pillows that sat on either end, and settled it under her head. Fetching an afghan off the chair, he laid it over her.
“Thank you,” Terri murmured. “Sandi’s lucky to have you. And so am I.”
“Hmm.” Dave cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. Shrugging, he muttered that she should sleep, and left her alone.
Terri slept. They didn’t wake her for tea, but let her sleep through the night. She woke up at five o’clock the next morning, feeling like a bag of dirt. But a well-rested bag of dirt. Smiling faintly to herself, Terri got up and folded the blanket someone had put on her in the night, then folded the afghan as well. She collected fresh clothes from her suitcase and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom, managing to take a shower without waking the couple asleep just across the hall. Terri dressed, brushed her teeth, and went back downstairs. She fixed herself tea in the kitchen, took it outside, and sat on the picnic table, staring blankly at the wilderness growing there as she considered everything Sandi had said, and everything she herself knew.
In truth, Terri didn’t know for sure that Bastien was terminally ill. Yet all the evidence seemed to point that way. She decided that she would go on the premise that she was right and make her decision from there, because she needed to know what she wanted if Bastien was going to die. If he wasn’t, the answer was simple; she wanted to be with him. But marriage was about sickness and health, better or worse—there was no line stating so long as ye both shall be healthy and happy. Terri needed to know if she loved him enough to be willing to stand by him through the hard stuff, too. If she could be strong enough to do so.
She stared at the brick wall surrounding Dave and Sandi’s little cottage, and imagined the days ahead without him. It seemed a pretty bleak world without Bastien. Then she imagined her time with him, and remembered how it already had been. The laughter, the talk, the working together in a crisis—Terri wanted that. She didn’t want to lose it after having it. But, in effect, she already had. Sandi was right, she’d given it up already. As for suffering his illness with him, she had been through it twice before. Terri knew that she would be checking with Kate to see how Bastien was. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. The updates she received, along with her past experience and her imagination, were enough for her to know exactly what he was suffering and to suffer with him, whether she was there to see it physically or not.
She was a coward and a fool, Terri realized. She’d passed up days, months, maybe even years of happiness by anticipating the bad that would follow. There were no guarantees in life. Even if Bastien were dying, she might—as Dave suggested—beat him to the grave. Standing abruptly, Terri walked back into the cottage and rinsed her cup. Then she wrote a quick note to her friends and picked up the phone to call a cab.
“If you can wait ten minutes while I dress, I’ll drive you.”
Terri glanced to the doorway where Dave stood in a pair of fleece pants and a top. She’d forgotten he was an early riser. “I could catch a cab. Then you won’t have to bother.”
“I want to run over to Sainbury’s for a couple at things, anyway. And I know you need to stop there before going home. I’ll just be a minute.” He didn’t give her the chance to refuse, simply turned and jogged back upstairs. Two minutes later, Sandi came down in her housecoat, yawning.
“Oh.” She shook her head as the yawn ended, as if trying to shake herself awake, then glanced at Terri. “I’m sorry about what I said.”
“Don’t be. You were right.”
Sandi shrugged. “I could have said it more diplomatically.”
Terri grinned, and hugged her. “I love you.”
“You’re going to him,” Sandi said. There was a sadness in her eyes as they parted. “You should be able to find a teaching position over there in one of the universities. I know you’ll be happy. But we’ll miss you.”
Terri felt a thickness at the back of her throat. She’d depended on this couple as her only nearby family for a long time. She forced a smile. “Well, don’t jump the gun. He might not want me.”
Sandi snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“And if he did, he might not now because I ran out on him.”
“He’ll forgive you,” Sandi predicted. “You’ll just have to grovel and admit you’ve been an idiot.”
Terri chuckled, then glanced to the doorway as Dave came jogging back down the stairs. “Right! I’m ready. I’ll be back shortly, flower,” He gave Sandi a quick kiss, grabbed Terri’s suitcase handle, then paused and turned back for another kiss before leading the way out of the cottage.
“Drive carefully,” Sandi called from the doorstep.
“I will, flower. Now go back to bed—you were up late working.”
“Nag,” she muttered affectionately.
“I heard that.”
“Of course you did,” she said with a grin, then waved at Terri and went back inside.
Terri shook her head with amusement as she got into the passenger seat of the Jaguar. “You two were made for each other.”
“Yes, we were,” Dave agreed. He grinned as he started the car, then sent it racing down the street.
Bastien was dozing in the front seat of his rental car when the car roared up behind him. Blinking his eyes open, he saw a black Jaguar pull to a stop with two passengers inside. It took a moment for his sleep-fogged mind to recognize Terri in the passenger seat, then he spotted the man with her and he woke right up. It was seven o’clock in the morning. She hadn’t been in last night when he’d arrived, and he’d sat in the car outside her little cottage waiting, until he’d dozed off. He’d slept fitfully in the car, worried sick, wondering if she’d missed a connection, or run into trouble or what. But here she was returning now…and with another man? Bastien thought he might pop the bastard.
Opening the door, he slid out of his car. Propping his hands on his hips, he watched the couple get out of the car behind his.
“Bastien!” Terri sounded more shocked than happy to see him, he decided; and that was irritating to his sleep-deprived mind too. And blood-deprived, he reminded himself. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he fed, but he knew it was too long. Maybe he’d bite the guy with Terri rather than pop him.
“Dave, this is Bastien,” she said to the tall, silver-haired man who tugged Terri’s suitcase out of the trunk of the black car. Prematurely silver-haired, Bastien realized as the fellow closed the trunk and moved toward him, dragging the suitcase on its wheels. He took a step forward.
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“Bastien, this is David Simpson, my brother-in-law,” she introduced. “Dave and his wife, Sandi, picked me up from the airport yesterday. I fell asleep on their couch last night.”
Bastien felt all the hot air flow out of him. Brother-in-law. With a wife. “Oh,” he said, then held out his hand in greeting. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you too,” Dave said with a grin. He placed the handle of Terri’s suitcase in Bastien’s hand rather than shaking it.
Bastien stared down at the suitcase as Dave turned and hugged Terri. “I have to go. Sandi will worry. Call and let us know what happens.”
Bastien lifted his head to watch the man roar off in his Jaguar. “Nice car.”
“It’s Dave’s pride and joy,” Terri said. “Would you like to come in?”
Bastien nodded, then followed her up the sidewalk, only then noticing that she was carrying a grocery bag. Obviously, her brother-in-law had taken her shopping before bringing her home, he realized. He followed Terri into her small cottage, his eyes moving curiously around the place as he closed the door. It was small but cozy and tastefully decorated, he noted; then Terri whirled to face him.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have run off like that.”
“Terri—”
“No, wait. Let me speak,” Terri insisted. “I made a mistake. A stupid mistake because I was scared. I…I love you, Bastien. I do. And the idea of your being ill and watching you go through what Ian and my mother went through scares the heck out of me, but I’m willing to do it if I can spend however much good time you have left with you. I’ll take the bad with the good. I’ll—”
“I’m not sick,” Bastien interrupted.
Terri paused and stared, uncomprehending. “What?”
“I’m not sick,” he repeated firmly.
“But the vials in your fridge.”
“The vials?” he asked. Then understanding slowly dawned. “Vincent’s serum?”
“Vincent’s serum?” Terri echoed.
“Yes. You know about his digestive trouble. The lab sent those up for him to try. It’s a new serum we hope will help,” he answered, couching his words carefully so that he was telling the truth, but not revealing everything. Yet.
Terri sank onto the sofa with a plop. “The serum is Vincent’s.”
“Yes.”
“But what about the blood and the IV stand?”
“The IV stand? In the closet of the master suite?” he asked with surprise.
She nodded.
“That’s been there a long time. Lissianna needed it at one time, and we’ve just never gotten rid of it.”
“Lissianna?” Terri’s voice was a squeak.
“Yes. Lissianna.”
“And the blood?” she asked hopefully.
Bastien hesitated. This was where it got tricky.
Terri went on, “And Kate said you had something to tell me that we would have to work out if we were going to work out.”
“That’s true,” he admitted, glad to avoid the blood for the time being. “There is something that I’ll need to discuss with you if you agree to marry me, but it isn’t that I’m terminally ill. I’m not ill at all.”
“You want to marry me?” Terri asked with pleasure.
Bastien rolled his eyes. “Terri, honey. I just flew two thousand three hundred miles chasing after you. It wasn’t to ask you on a date.”
“Oh, Bastien!” She launched herself off the couch. Bastien caught her with an, “oomph,” then found his face peppered with little butterfly kisses.
“Terri, honey, hang on. We do have to talk.”
“Later,” she murmured. “I’ve been so miserable since hearing Lissianna and Kate in the bathroom, I—” She paused and peered at him with question. “What were they talking about—that I should understand, because of Ian? I thought they were saying that you were ill, and I should be able to understand and deal with it because of my experiences with Ian.”
“We have to talk,” Bastien repeated with a sigh.
“Just tell me,” she said.
“It’s not something you just blurt out, Terri.”
“Now you’re making me nervous again.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s…” Taking her hands, he drew her back to the sofa and settled beside her. “It’s not bad,” he started, hoping she would agree.
“It isn’t?”
“No.” He glanced around the living room of her cottage, absently noting the comfortable charm as he tried to think of the best way to tell her. “Well,” he said finally, “have you ever seen the movie An American Werewolf in London?”
She gave a perplexed laugh. “Yes. Hasn’t everyone?”
He nodded. “Well, I’m not American, or a werewolf, and we aren’t in London.”
She blinked several times at his comment. Then she said slowly, “No, this is Huddersfield.”
“And I’m Canadian and a vampire,” he finished brightly.
“Uh…huh,” she said slowly. “Bastien, are you feeling well?”
“Terri—”
“Is this your idea of a joke?”
She was getting annoyed, he thought with alarm. How the heck had Etienne and Lucern told Rachel and Kate that they were vampires? “Terri, honey,” he began. “It’s not a joke. I really am a vampire.”
“Oh. I see.” She was getting snippy. That was interesting. He’d never seen her snippy before. Well, perhaps with the cashier at Victoria’s Secret. No, Bastien decided, Terri had put the clerk in her place, but she had not got snippy with the girl.
“You’re a vampire.” Her voice was disbelieving, and she was nodding her head up and down in a way that didn’t look promising. “Fine. Bite me.”
Terri held her arm out in challenge, and Bastien frowned. “Terri, I don’t want to bite you,” he said. Then he paused and said more honestly, “Well, actually, I am a pit peckish right at the moment, but I’d rather not—”
“Uh-huh. Bite me!” she snapped. “If you’re a vampire, bite me.”
Bastien peered at her arm for a minute, then took it in hand, lifted it up, and bit her.
“Ouch!” Terri leapt off the couch, retrieving her arm as she went. Bastien had to snap his teeth back double quick to keep from ripping her vein and flesh. “You bit me! You’ve got fangs!”
“Now do you believe me?”
Clutching her arm to her chest, she began to back away.
“Please don’t be afraid of me, Terri. I love you,” he said softly, taking a step after her and holding out his hand in pleading. He was relieved when she hesitated. “Honey, this is a good thing. Really. You’ll never have to worry about my dying a horrible, lingering death,” he offered. “I won’t die like your mother and Ian. I can’t.”
She stared at him. “Your father is dead. Was he staked?”
“No. He burned to death. We can burn to death.” Then he added quickly, “But that wouldn’t be a long lingering illness. None of the ways we can die are long and lingering.”
“So, the blood in your fridge…”
“Was to feed. We don’t bite humans anymore, not unless absolutely necessary.”
“You aren’t human.”
“Yes, of course we are. Sort of. We’re just a different nationality, really. We’re almost immortal, as opposed to mortal. Atlantean rather than British. Well, we’re Canadian now. At least my family is.” He paused and frowned; he was really making a flub of this. “Look, honey, sit down and I’ll explain everything. Our vampirism is scientific in basis, not a curse or something. We aren’t soulless. That night-walking demon thing everyone thinks vampires are—well, it was all just a big misunderstanding.”
Terri didn’t sit down; instead she narrowed her eyes. “So vampires can walk in daylight?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Well, the sun does a lot of damage, of course. And going out in it means we have to consume a lot more blood to make up for it, but we can go out in it without bursting into flames or
anything.”
She seemed to accept that, but then, she had seen him in sunlight. She asked, “How old are you?”
Bastien sighed. “Four hundred and twelve.”
“Four hundred and—jeez.” She sat, then stiffened. “So, all that stuff you knew when we visited the museum…”
“I was there for the stuff I was telling you,” he admitted. “Not the medieval stuff, just from the 1600s through now.”
“Is that all?” she asked dryly. Then shook her head and muttered, “This is nuts.”
“No, it’s science,” Bastien explained. “See, our Atlantean scientists made nanos that would repair and regenerate the body, but they use blood at an accelerated rate to do so, a rate the body can’t keep up with. Thus, we need to ingest more blood to feed them and stay healthy. We drink blood to survive, like diabetics need insulin injected because they don’t produce enough of their own.”
“Atlanteans,” Terri muttered. “I went and fell in love with the man from Atlantis.” She glanced up sharply. “You don’t have webbed fingers and toes, too, or something, do you?”
Bastien sighed, trying to remain patient. There was so much myth around both Atlantis and vampires. None of it ever tied together, however, thank goodness. “Honey, you’ve seen me naked. All of me. You know I don’t have gills and fins.”
“Oh, yes.” She was silent, then cleared her throat. “Bastien?”
“Yes?” he asked hopefully.
“I think I’d like you to leave. I need some time to…er…digest this.”
He felt his stomach drop. “How much time?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted.
Bastien stared at her for a minute, then stood and moved to the door. He paused, then glanced back to ask, “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“No, of course not. They’d think I was nuts, anyway.”
He nodded. “Good. Because you’d threaten my whole family—including Kate.”
“Kate?” Terri’s head snapped up.
