Ward of the Vampire: Complete Serial

by Kallysten

  Carol looked outraged for a second, but soon she laughed and leaned closer over the table. Her eyes sparkled when she asked, “What is he like in bed?”

  If I’d nurtured delusions about denying anything of an adult nature had happened between me and Morgan, the fierce blush that made me feel like I was on fire put an end to that. Carol’s grin widened a little more.

  I thought about refusing to answer, but that notion quickly flew out the window, too. I wanted to talk about Morgan with someone, and who better than one of my closest friends? From the moment I’d been trapped at the mansion, I’d been on my own, and an outside perspective would be welcome. It’s true that my parents had been there, but I could never have confided in them. As for Stephen, our discussions had grown more relaxed in time, but there had always been an unacknowledged reality: he was on Morgan’s side, not mine.

  So, I told her… well, not everything, but a close approximation of what had happened.

  I told her Miss Delilah had taken me to her brother’s party because she suspected we might hit it off—and we had. I told her it’d been a whirlwind and I’d forgotten about everything, including my friends and my parents, until my parents showed up for Christmas. I told her about the sunroom. I told her about Irene, and how she was the dragon-like mother-in-law from hell every woman feared being stuck with. And of course I told her about Morgan.

  I never answered her question about what he was like in bed, but told her how attentive and romantic he could be at times, and how he could drive me up the walls without even trying. I told her he was the most amazing man I’d ever met. And I told her I wasn’t sure he’d ever be mine.

  She’d listened with few interruptions up to that point, but that last bit startled her: she sat back suddenly, blinking as though awakening from a doze.

  “Why would you say that? He sounds like the perfect guy, and the way you talk about him…” She leaned forward again, patting my hand on the table. “You haven’t said so, but you’re in love. If he doesn’t know, then he must be blind.”

  “Oh, he knows,” I assured her with a bitter smile. “Or at least, he’s heard me say it. I’m still not sure whether he believes me. Things didn’t end well in his last two relationships, and he blames himself. He thinks if we were together, he’d end up hurting me, so he’s been holding back.” I had to clear my throat before I could finish. “That’s why I left.”

  Carol looked absolutely crestfallen. I felt like I’d just told her a fairytale, only to disappoint her with ‘and they didn’t live happily ever after.’

  “You left?” she repeated, pushing away her coffee so she could fold her arms on the table and lean a little closer still. “Why on Earth would you do that?”

  “To give him time.” It had seemed like such a good, logical idea at the time… Why did I feel so defensive when I explained it to her? “He needs to get over what happened before, and I figured I’d be standing in the way if I stayed.”

  She shook her head slowly, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. Her brow furrowed, but still her voice was ever so gentle when she said, “But if you’re not there with him, how is he going to remember why he should put the past behind him and enjoy what he has now?”

  The waitress brought us the check at that point so I didn’t answer, and afterward I made a point of redirecting the conversation. We’d talked about me all evening, it was time for her to tell me what was going on in her life, and she obliged by telling me about her new job. For the rest of the evening, however, and even after we’d said goodnight, the question remained at the back of my mind.

  What if she was right?

  What if I’d made a mistake?

  What if, now that my presence in Morgan’s life was no more than a spattering of text messages, he went back to his routine and forgot what it’d been like to care for someone again?

  *

  I held out for an entire month.

  I think I deserve some recognition for that. I’d certainly never have believed I’d stay away from the mansion—from Morgan—for that long.

  Granted, I still texted him once a day. No more than once, even when I really, really wanted to. It was the hardest whenever he replied something funny or teased me in some way. Those days, I wanted to text back right away. Or even better, call him. I didn’t. It was torture, but I held on to my resolve. He would call me first. He’d make the first step back to me when he was ready. That was what I’d decided, and I wouldn’t budge, not even with the doubts Carol had instilled in me.

  By now, it’s useless to deny that he can make me renounce any vow.

  What did we say in those text messages? Nothing very important. I talked about the weather, about New York, about things that reminded me of him. Small things. I was keeping the line open between us. He replied, but he didn’t really volunteer information on his own. Once, I asked why he hadn’t gone on that trip like he’d said he would. When he didn’t reply, I thought it meant he didn’t want to admit that he’d stayed to be closer to me. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Too bad I was wrong…

  I’d resumed running in the park whenever the weather allowed, although for the most part I stayed well away from the mansion—away from temptation. In early February, however, I found myself stopping right across the street and staring at the building. From where I stood, I couldn’t see the sun room at all. What I could see very well, on the other hand, was the balcony where we’d first met. Some of the curtains on the third floor were open, and I caught myself looking from room to room, trying to catch a glimpse of movement.

  What if I went in and said hi?

  The idea, once it sparked in my mind, wouldn’t be extinguished. Just a little hello. That wouldn’t be bad, would it? People drop by to say hi to their friends when they’re in the neighborhood. Nothing more normal than that. And we were friends, weren’t we? At least I hoped we were.

  After a brief argument with myself, I decided that, yes, I’d go and say hi.

  I only had to go home first. After all, who shows up at their friends’ all sweaty from a run?

  Yes, I did realize it rendered the ‘I was in the neighborhood’ point completely moot. I didn’t care.

  So, I went home, I cleaned up, spent a good half hour trying to decide what to wear. I finally opted for a pair of nice dark jeans and a fine blouse. Even with my winter jacket on, it was a little on the thin side, but I can’t say practicality was at the forefront of my mind. I wanted to look casual, like I was indeed just dropping by without having planned to, but nice enough to remind Morgan what he was missing. If you’re thinking I put too much effort and thought into all this, you’re definitely right.

  A couple of minutes before arriving at the mansion, I figured I might give him a bit of a warning and sent a quick text. At first I typed, I’m in the neighborhood, can I drop by and say hi? but that left him the option of saying no, and that wouldn’t do. So I typed instead, I’m in the neighborhood. Gonna drop by and say hi. See you in a few.

  My hands were damp when I put the phone away. They still were when I climbed up to the front door and rang the bell. I wiped them on my coat and waited, impatience, nervousness, and anticipation fluttering like wings in my belly.

  It took Stephen a minute or two to come open the door. I won’t deny part of me had hoped Morgan would come himself.

  “Miss Angelina,” Stephen said as he moved out of the way to let me in. “What an unexpected surprise.”

  A small glint in his eyes and the barest twitch at the corner of his lips belied his words.

  “That unexpected?” I asked, smiling.

  He shrugged, and it occurred to me at that moment that he wasn’t in his usual butler uniform but wearing slack pants and a comfortable-looking sweatshirt.

  “Unexpected that you’d wait this long to come by,” he said. “Not so unexpected in the fact that Mr. Ward gave me a call just before you rang the doorbell.”

  I could feel the smile draining from my face.

  “He gave you
a call?” I repeated. “You mean… he’s not here?”

  Stephen shook his head, giving me an apologetic look.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Angelina, he’s not. He left New York the same day you left the mansion.”

  The news left me open-mouthed and stunned, much the same way a sucker punch would have. All those text messages we had exchanged… all those conversations… and not once had Morgan let it slip that he wasn’t in town. I’d texted him at all hours, from mid-morning to late night, and except for the couple of times when he hadn’t replied at all, he’d always messaged me back within a few minutes. Once or twice I’d asked about his travel plans, and he had deflected rather than answering. Why? What was the point of hiding his whereabouts from me?

  “I was about to have lunch,” Stephen said. “Would you care to join me?”

  Frankly, ‘care’ was not the word for it. I didn’t care much for anything at that moment except whipping out my phone and giving Morgan a piece of my mind. But the thing was, he hadn’t lied to me. He hadn’t told me he had left, and I guess we could call that a lie by omission, but he hadn’t straight out said anything that wasn’t true.

  “Sometimes, I just don’t understand him,” I complained to Stephen a few minutes later over a lunch of sole fillets, risotto, and glasses of white wine. Clearly Stephen hadn’t lied when he’d said cooking for two wasn’t any more trouble than cooking for himself if that was what he ate on daily basis.

  “Only sometimes?” he replied with a quirk of his lips.

  I snickered.

  “Touché. Maybe I should say that sometimes I understand him, and when I do, it’s always a surprise.”

  “I’d venture a guess and say that when you do, it’s a surprise for him, too.”

  Which was probably true, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I didn’t want Morgan to be surprised that I understood him. I wanted him to be happy about it. To be glad there was someone in the world who knew him that well—who wanted to know him that well. It definitely wasn’t for a lack of trying on my part if ‘sometimes’ was the best I could achieve.

  “Can I ask you a question?” he asked after a few seconds of observing me in silence.

  I raised my eyebrows at him, inviting him to go ahead.

  “Why did you wait so long to come by? You miss him, don’t you?”

  I more than missed him. I ached from not seeing him. How strange, really. I’d been forced into his home, we’d been thrown together against our will, he’d done everything to make me believe he was nothing more than a jerk… and here I was. Completely smitten. No, it was more than that. I was in love. Deeply in love. Enough so to let him go rather than impose my presence when it pained him.

  “I was hoping he’d miss me too,” I confessed with a little shrug. “That he’d… I don’t know. Come see me first. Show up at my apartment, say something ridiculously romantic and sweep me off my feet.”

  I looked up from my empty glass of wine to find Stephen looking at me with such pity in his eyes that I could feel tears stinging mine. I laughed it off and helped myself to another half glass of wine.

  “It’s silly, isn’t it? Too many princess stories when I was growing up.”

  “Not silly,” he said quietly. “What makes me sad is that, when I first knew him, that is the sort of thing he’d have done. And now, he’s hiding from you on the other side of the world.”

  “Hiding from me?” I repeated dumbly. “Is that why he left, you think?”

  He looked sorry for saying so.

  “Well, I don’t know. I mean, he hadn’t taken a vacation in a long time. Maybe he needed to get out of town for a while.”

  That wasn’t what he believed, that much was clear to me. He was trying to make me feel better about the situation. I can’t say it worked, but I put up a good front.

  Over dessert and coffee, we tacitly avoided talking about Morgan any more. I asked Stephen what he did, all alone in that big house, and he told me about taking classes. Cooking, art, writing… He was a busy man. When it came time for me to leave, he gave me his number and suggested I call him next time I felt like gourmet food and company. I said I would, but the truth was, I didn’t plan to. I enjoyed Stephen’s company—and yes, his culinary talents, too—but this was Morgan’s home. If Morgan wasn’t there, it felt… empty and cold.

  It made me feel empty and cold.

  I walked home. It wasn’t close, and it had started to rain lightly, but I needed to think about what Stephen had said. He’d lived with Morgan for decades. He probably knew him better than anyone, except maybe for Miss Delilah and Irene, but while they’d known Morgan longer, Stephen had been at his side more recently. Was he right? Had Morgan left so that he’d be away from me? I’d thought he needed to be alone to heal. I was beginning to doubt.

  Head low and hands in my pockets against the cold drizzle, I spent the last couple of blocks composing a message in my mind. Should I act like the wronged party? Accuse him of lying? Play the whole thing off? Not say anything? The latter option was appealing. In any case, it had to be better than ‘I had a nice lunch with Stephen. Think he’d go out with a younger woman?’ I can be petty and childish when I’m hurt, but that was pushing things a bit.

  By the time I got back to my apartment, I was soaked down to my bones. I set a pot of coffee to brew and jumped into the shower to warm myself up. When I got out, a message was waiting for me on my phone.

  Did you enjoy your lunch?

  I typed a response that may or may not have included a couple of curse words… but I deleted it rather than pressing send. Wrapped in my robe, a large mug of coffee in hand, I settled in front of my television. Half an hour passed. A second message popped up.

  Stephen is a pretty good cook, isn’t he? I’ve told him he should try opening a restaurant but he seems to think I’d wither and die without him.

  Was that an attempt at humor? It was hard to tell. Stephen’s food certainly was good enough to belong on the menu of a fine restaurant, but was that really all Morgan had to say to me?

  I didn’t reply.

  Another twenty minutes passed.

  Did you get home all right? Looks like the weather is taking a turn for the worse.

  I glanced at the window. It was the middle of the afternoon, but the sky was so dark, it seemed like night was falling already.

  I still didn’t reply.

  Granted, I’d talked to him about the weather before, but I found it a little insulting that this was what he was choosing to talk about right now.

  The next message came in fifteen minutes later.

  All right so you’re mad at me but after all it’s not as though I lied to you.

  I had a really hard time not throwing my phone across the room.

  When my phone pinged next, I ignored it.

  So far, I hadn’t replied, but he’d have received confirmation that I’d read his messages. I didn’t want to give him even that much. He was right about me being mad, but it was about more than him hiding that he was out of town. If he’d just sent me ‘I’m sorry’ as a message, I’d have forgiven him in a heartbeat. Instead, he’d skirted the issue, and then waved a large ‘I didn’t do anything wrong’ flag in my face.

  I was a grumpy, lonely woman, and my phone buzzing yet again only annoyed me a little more.

  Five minutes later, it didn’t buzz. It rang. And when I looked at the display, I was stunned to see that it was Morgan calling.

  All this time waiting, hoping for him to call me first, and all I had to do to get him to do it was ignore him for a little while. Who would have thought?

  I was tempted to let the call go to voice mail.

  I was very tempted.

  But come on, I’d been dreaming of that call for weeks. There was no way for me not to answer now.

  I took a deep breath, muted the television, and picked up the call.

  “Are you done ignoring me?” Morgan said at once. No ‘Hello’, no ‘It’s me’. Just an annoyed-sounding qu
estion. Why was I not surprised…

  “If you’re not any nicer, I’m hanging up,” I replied.

  Hanging up was the very last thing I wanted to do but I’d endured enough of his bad moods when I was stuck in the mansion. I wasn’t going to take it from across the world as well.

  “I’ve told you repeatedly I’m not a nice person,” he muttered.

  “And you’ve proved it was a lie repeatedly as well,” I shot back.

  “Well, if I was nice, I’d have told you I was gone, wouldn’t I?”

  It was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help bursting out laughing. “Isn’t that my line?”

  When he replied, the annoyance was gone from his voice, and I closed my eyes to imagine a sheepish look on his face.

  “You scramble my brain sometimes. Do you know that?”

  “See? I knew you had it in you to be nice.”

  “Saying you mess with my mind is nice?”

  “It is, actually. Better than hearing you say I leave you stone cold, in any case.” There was a brief pause, and when Morgan didn’t say anything, I just had to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me you were out of town?”

  His sigh was so quiet, the phone barely picked it up.

  “I don’t know. I meant to tell you, but I never knew how to work it in the conversation. I didn’t want to just say, ‘oh by the way, I’m thousands of miles away,’ when you were telling me you’d been just a few blocks away from the mansion.”

  What could I answer to that? I really had no idea. My anger had abated, maybe more from the fact that I was talking to him than from his odd explanation.

  “You’re a strange man, Morgan Ward.”

  “Some would say I’m not a man at all,” he replied, his tone calm like the topic of what he was came up every day.

  I wasn’t quite as collected when I answered. “Well, you know what I think. It hasn’t changed. Nothing at all has changed. The only difference is that I can’t tell you in person.”

  Another sigh, and this one was a little louder and took the form of my name.