by Lynsay Sands
It was going to be a struggle.
After showering and dressing, Victor made his way to Elvi’s room, fully expecting her to be lying peacefully in bed, getting the sleep he felt sure her body needed. Instead, he found himself staring at an empty, unmade bed and a floor with clothes lying strewn about.
Pulling the door closed with a snap, Victor turned and hurried downstairs, rushing into the kitchen only to jerk to a halt in amazement.
Elvi was alive and well and presently covered with a fine dusting of flour as she worked frantically at something on the dining room table. So were Edward, Alessandro, and Harper.
“Is this better, Elvi?” Alessandro held up what appeared to be a pie of some sort.
“Much, Alessandro.” Elvi beamed at the man. “Definitely a seller. Put it over with the others to be filled.”
“My crust keeps breaking,” Edward growled impatiently, dipping his fingers in a bowl of some liquid and then rubbing them over a crack that had appeared in the crust he was working with.
“You’re doing fine,” Elvi assured him. “They always crack.”
Edward muttered something under his breath, but repaired the crack and carefully lifted the shell into a foil pie plate, releasing a small breath of relief when he managed to do so without the shell falling apart in his hands.
“Well done,” Elvi encouraged, patting his arm briefly before her gaze slipped to Harper’s efforts. The German didn’t appear to be having any trouble at all with his own pie. If anything, he was wielding the rolling pin and handling the crust with the finesse of a professional. And Victor wasn’t the only one to notice.
“You’re very good at this, Harper,” Elvi said curiously. “I take it you’ve done this before?”
“Hmm. I was the personal chef for emperor-elect Maximilian I when I was younger,” Harper informed her.
“Emperor-elect Maximilian I?” Elvi asked uncertainly.
“The easiest way to explain it is to say he was like a king to the eastern Franks,” the man explained with a shrug.
Victor didn’t think Elvi was too sure she understood, but rather than ask for a history lesson, she nodded and turned her attention back to her own pie, deftly lifting the crust into an aluminum pie plate.
“Does someone want to tell me why the four of you are playing Betty Crocker?” Victor asked finally. His gaze then slid to the counter where some twenty pie crusts sat waiting to be filled and he added, “And who the hell are all these pies for?”
Elvi raised her head and offered a surprised smile. “Oh, good morning, Victor.”
Spotting the smudge of flour on her cheek and nose, Victor found himself smiling back. She was so adorable.
“The pies are for the end of summer fair,” she explained, answering the last question first. “The proceeds will go to help the Abused Kids’ Shelter. I’m afraid I’d quite forgotten all about it what with your arrival and everything. Fortunately, the men were kind enough to offer their help.”
“Harper volunteered us,” Edward corrected with a grimace.
“It’s only fair. We are here for free, eating the food and consuming the blood. Is little enough to make some pies,” Alessandro said with a shrug.
Edward muttered something under his breath, but the fact that he was there helping suggested he agreed. He wasn’t someone who did things he didn’t want to, so it seemed obvious he was willing to help. Victor supposed the grumbling was purely to ensure his machismo wasn’t affected by participating in this womanly chore.
He watched them work for another moment, then heaved a sigh and moved toward the table. “So, what can I do to help?”
Sixteen
“There.” Elvi sealed the lid on the last pie and stepped back with a relieved sigh. It had been a hectic two days, but they’d done it. One hundred pies. They’d finished more than half of them yesterday before staggering off to their various beds, then Elvi had woken before the others again today and set right back to work, grateful when the men had joined her again as they woke.
Elvi peered over the results with weary satisfaction. At least the visible results, most of the pies were already baked and sitting on shelves in the cupboard room between the garage and kitchen. There were also a dozen down in the cold room, waiting for their turn in the oven, and these last six here in the kitchen that she and the men had just finished with.
All she had to do was bake the eighteen left and box them and they were all set for tomorrow. And she couldn’t have done it without the men. Alessandro had tried to rush, messing up more than he’d made at first, and Edward was a very slow, meticulous worker, but Harper had been a dream and Victor had proven to be a skilled pie maker once shown how to do it. So, shortly after Victor had joined their efforts, Elvi had set Alessandro and Edward to peeling apples and cooking the cherries for the fillings, and that had worked well.
“These look done,” Victor announced from where he stood bent over, peering into the oven. “Should I take them out and switch them for three more?”
“Yes, please.” Elvi picked up two of the pies from the table, smiling when Harper hurried over and picked up a third with his free hand. His other was holding a bag of blood to his mouth. As each man had finished their last pie, they’d moved to the fridge in search of sustenance. All except Victor, who had moved to the oven to inspect the pies presently baking.
Come to think of it, Elvi realized, she’d never seen Victor feed. It made her wonder if he had to feed less because of his age, or if he was just shy about feeding in front of others. She pondered the matter as she waited for Victor to lift out the last of the three pies in the oven. Once he’d removed the last one, Elvi slid in both of the pies she carried, and then turned to take the last one from Harper. When she straightened from placing it on the oven shelf, she closed the door and turned away to find Victor at her side, holding out a bag of blood.
“Thank you.” Elvi took it, and then asked, “Aren’t you going to have one?”
The sudden silence in the room was startling. All eyes had turned to Victor with an odd, expectant silence, but he merely shrugged and turned away, muttering, “Not right now.”
Elvi frowned, noting that the men were all now evading her eyes and concentrating on feeding or throwing out the bag they’d just finished, depending on where they were in the process. Elvi glanced from one man to the other, then to Victor again and commented, “I don’t remember you having any when you got up.”
Each man had headed to the refrigerator for a bag of blood or two on entering the kitchen, fed, and then disposed of the bags before joining her at the table. All of them except Victor. He’d walked straight to the table without detouring to feed.
“We have refrigerators in our room,” he reminded her, and then said, “I’ll take these pies down to the cold room.”
He collected two of the pies they’d just finished making and headed for the door to the basement. Harper grabbed the last pie, stepped forward to open the door, then followed him down and pulled it closed behind them.
“So, what are we going to do now?” Edward asked ending the silence in the room once the two men were gone. “Bake brownies or some other entertaining pastime?”
Elvi smiled faintly at his sarcasm. The man really needed some social skills. It was no wonder the other men disliked him, but they’d been wrong about his playing nice with her. She was the brunt of his sarcastic comments as often as the others. He really didn’t seem to like others much. If he ever wished to get himself a lifemate, he really needed to work on that.
“Actually, I was thinking that I would take you gentlemen out for supper and drinks as a thank-you for all your help with this,” Elvi informed him.
“Where?” Edward asked doubtfully.
Elvi shrugged, “Well, we could go to Bella Black’s for dinner, or—”
“No, thank you,” he said at once.
Elvi bit her lip, wondering if he’d just insulted her restaurant. “Well, as I was going to say before I was so rudely
interrupted, or there are a couple other restaurants in town that—”
“Elvi, my dear,” Edward interrupted. “I wasn’t slagging your restaurant when I said no. I’m sure the food there is wonderful, it certainly smelled delicious while we were there. However, while you may be content to be the local pet, I’d rather not be stared and whispered over all night,” the man said dryly, then added, “Eating or drinking anywhere in this town is hardly relaxing.”
“‘Pet’?” Elvi echoed.
“I’m afraid the Edward he is right,” Alessandro said gently. “Is not so comfortable here with everyone doing the staring and whispering. At the play with the Knights, we watch the show, but everyone else, they watch us. Is better we go elsewhere I think.”
Elvi let her breath out on a little sigh, dropping her contention with Edward’s use of the term pet…for now. She did understand what the men were saying. It had been the same when she’d first returned, but had eased with time. Now that the men were here, it had started all over again.
“Well, we could go into the city,” she suggested.
“The city?” Alessandro asked with interest, but Edward said, “Carousing with a bunch of drunken mortals isn’t exactly an alternative we’d be interested in.”
“Well, I’m afraid there isn’t much choice,” Elvi said with exasperation. “As far as I know, most people are mortals. You’re the first vampires I’ve met in five years around here.”
“That you know of,” Edward pointed out. “Unfortunately, lacking in training as you are, I don’t think you’d recognize an immortal unless they bit you…which of course they wouldn’t do because they’d know you were an immortal and so your blood would be useless to them.”
Elvi scowled with irritation, wondering why he was still here. If he hadn’t just spent the last two days helping her make pies, she’d have asked him outright to leave. He really had no chance with her as a lifemate. Even if she weren’t already involved with Victor, Edward was just too annoying to suit her.
“Toronto is only two or three hours away,” Alessandro piped up. “We could go to the Night Club.”
Elvi opened her mouth to ask what the night club was when the door to the garage opened and Mabel led DJ into the house. Forgetting about the night club for the moment, she eyed the pair with surprise. “You’re home early.”
Mabel shrugged. “I left Pedro in charge. DJ and I wanted some time alone.”
“Oh.” Elvi was surprised, but supposed she shouldn’t have been. While Mabel had intended on taking over all responsibility for the restaurant while Elvi got to know her “dates,” she hadn’t counted on falling in love with DJ, and that’s what she’d done. By her guess, it wouldn’t be long before the issue of turning came up and Elvi was hoping she’d agree.
“What are you guys doing? Going out anywhere?” DJ looked hopeful. It seemed obvious he was hoping for some time alone with Mabel.
“We are thinking to go to the Night Club,” Alessandro announced.
“What’s the Night Club?” Mabel asked the question their entrance had stopped Elvi from asking, and then shifted out of the way as the door to the basement opened and Victor and Harper rejoined them.
“It is the Night Club,” Alessandro said with a shrug. “Is bar, where immortals go at night.”
“Of course, it keeps longer hours than mortal bars and clubs, and the beverages are more to our liking,” Edward added.
“Hmm.” Elvi was curious. The idea of a bar filled with immortals was tantalizing. She might meet other female immortals who could help her with things that a male immortal wouldn’t even think of addressing. But her eyes slid to the clock on the stove and she felt disappointment claim her.
“Three hours there, three hours back, and I’d have to shower and change,” she shook her head unhappily. “I don’t think—”
“We can do it,” Harper interrupted firmly. “I’ll have my helicopter collect us. We’ll be there in a trice. You get ready. I shall arrange everything.”
“A helicopter? Really?” Elvi asked with amazement. She’d known from their cars that these men were well off, but a personal helicopter? Holy! The guy must be loaded. Her gaze slid to Victor then and she frowned when she saw that he was looking less than pleased at the idea of the outing.
“Yes, really.” Harper gave her a gentle push. “Go on. Get ready.”
“But what about the pies?” Elvi said reluctantly.
“I’ll bake them for you,” Mabel announced, catching Elvi’s arm and urging her toward the stairs. “Come on. I’ll help you get ready. You can wear that red dress with the slit up the side.”
Elvi allowed herself to be hurried upstairs. It bothered her that Victor didn’t seem pleased with the idea of the outing, but she was too curious to see this club for immortals to let it stop her. Mabel got out the red dress she’d mentioned while Elvi showered, then helped with her hair and makeup and accessories before helping her dress.
Elvi smiled as she peered down at the deep red cocktail dress with its short skirt and halter top. She’d never expected to get the chance to wear it when she’d bought it. All she ever wore was black at the restaurant and events, but she hadn’t been able to help herself when she saw it in the store. Now she was glad she hadn’t.
Once finished zipping her up, Mabel stepped back and grinned.
“You are so going to turn on Victor in that,” she chuckled and urged her to the door. “Come on. You guys have been working like crazy to get those pies done the last two days, and I know you haven’t got a chance to repeat the garage scene with Victor. Have fun tonight. You never have fun anymore, and you deserve it. So promise me you’ll try to relax and have fun.”
“I promise,” Elvi laughed, her anticipation for the night ahead suddenly increasing exponentially. She and Victor hadn’t even kissed the last two days since the arrow incident. There simply hadn’t been an opportunity with all of the men working on the pies. While Elvi had known that, she’d still felt slightly bereft that he hadn’t even tried to sneak a kiss or something here or there. Or slid into her room at night to rouse her with kisses and caresses. Without the real thing, Elvi had found herself suffering—or enjoying, depending on how you looked at it—some pretty erotic dreams. Dreams that had seemed incredibly real and left her waking panting and dripping with sweat among other things.
Not that she was complaining, it was better than the nightmares she normally had about her husband and daughter’s death and her own accident in Mexico. Still, the real thing would have been more reassuring. Elvi was starting to doubt his interest in her and knew that was silly. He was the one who had claimed she was his lifemate.
“Ah, bella, you are perfection on the legs,” Alessandro proclaimed coming up the hall as Mabel joined her outside her bedroom door.
“Does that mean the rest of me is okay but my legs are ugly?” Elvi asked with amusement.
“No!” Alessandro looked horrified that she might think so. “No, bella. You have the beautiful legs; so slender, so shapely, every man’s dream.”
“Oh, Alessandro, you’re such a flirt.” Elvi laughed, shaking her head as she led the way to the stairs.
“This is a bad thing?” Alessandro asked, sounding concerned.
“Not at all,” she assured him lightly. “It’s just that I suspect you’re just as effusive with every woman you meet, and it makes it difficult to take you seriously.”
“That is bad,” he said on an unhappy sigh. “The Canadians, they are so sensible, much like the British. As are the Americans. You have no soul, no romance in you. Not like we Italians. To us love is everything and beauty is something to be celebrated. Women should be kissed and told they are bella.”
“How long have you been in Canada?” Elvi asked with a sudden curiosity.
“Ten years.”
“Why did you come?”
“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “We try not to stay too long in the one place. Ten years, maybe. We no age. Stay too long, it brings the
questions. So we go. Another place, then another, and maybe twenty…thirty years we go home as a cousin, the son, or someone else. By then, those who knew us they have moved, or aged, or died, or simply do not remember us and we are safe for another ten years before we must move again.”
“How awful,” Elvi said with real sympathy. “I can’t imagine having to live like that.”
“Ah, but you don’t have to,” he pointed out. “You have the good setup here. Your people, they love you, and protect you from needing to do this.”
“Yes,” Elvi agreed quietly. While her life wasn’t perfect, she did have a home she didn’t have to leave and didn’t have to constantly worry about hiding what she was, which allowed her to enjoy the love and support of her friends and neighbors.
“There you are!” Edward said with annoyance when they came around the corner into the kitchen. “We’ve been waiting—”
“But you are surely worth every minute of the wait,” Harper interrupted gallantly, crossing the room to take her hand and press a kiss to the back of her fingers.
Flushing with embarrassment, Elvi glanced over his bowed head to Victor. He leaned against the low wall, his expression unreadable. She wasn’t sure how he felt about Harper’s gallant greeting, but he wasn’t making an effort to approach her himself.
“Your chariot awaits, my lady.” Harper settled her hand on his arm and urged her to the door leading out onto the deck.
Elvi had thought they’d have to drive to the nearest airport where his helicopter would be waiting. She’d thought wrong. With the other men following, Harper escorted her across the deck and down the sidewalk to the driveway, but then continued past the cars parked there.
“What—” Elvi began with confusion, only to pause as she spotted the helicopter in the school yard across the street.
