“The pleasure is all mine,” she answered in her best Romanian. Not bad, all things considered.
His already warm smile grew even warmer. “Splendid,” he murmured as he released her hand and reached over to take the handle of her small rolling suitcase. “You must tell me how you learned to speak our language so well.”
She was almost sad when he released her hand, the warm connection broken in an instant. Something about his touch was comforting, and irrational as that was, she liked it. “I’d be delighted. I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. Cutting her gaze to the suitcase, she told him, “You don’t have to take my case. I can do that.”
He just smiled and kept his hold on the handle. “Don’t even give it a thought. Helping you is the least I can do for your kind husband. He did so much during his time here. He helped many people, many children.”
Of course he did. Vic was—had been—drawn to children in need. It was his way, and though he never said so to her, she’d known in her heart the fact they never had a child together was a sadness he carried always. Without a child of his own, he turned to those he could help. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’re doing for me and for Vic.”
“He is a fallen warrior and you are his widow. It is only right.”
Not only did his choice of words take her off guard, but so did the realization that it was the first time she’d actually heard herself referred to as a widow. Her stomach knotted at the sound of the word, and not just because she’d lost Vic. Her stomach did a flip, and it took every bit of self-control she possessed not to throw up. If Alexandru had a clue what a rotten person she was, he’d probably make her walk to Tirgoviste and back.
“Well,” she said as she looked away from Alexandru’s intense gaze. “I guess we might as well get on the road. I’ll just pay my bill, and then we can be on our way.”
“It is taken care of.”
She stopped, turning to look at him, her eyes narrowed. “Pardon me?” How, and more important, why would her bill be paid? Money wasn’t something she had to worry about. Her soul, yes. Her checkbook, no.
“It is taken care of.” His face was serious, his voice calm as if he paid the bills of strange women every day.
Lura wanted to argue with him, to explain she was more than capable of paying her own hotel bills, but something in his eyes and his voice stopped the words from passing her lips. Instead, she asked simply, “Why?”
He inclined his head slightly. “It is my honor to do such a thing.” This was a man who took care of things according to his own personal code. Any argument on her part would be futile. He had his reasons, she was certain of that, but she would undoubtedly never know what they were.
She closed her eyes for a moment, took a breath, and said, “Thank you.”
He nodded and waved one arm in the direction of the door. She walked outside and waited. She wasn’t sure which one of the small cars parked along both sides of the road was his. It turned out to be a compact, black sedan of a make she wasn’t familiar with. Inside it smelled of tobacco and leather, the telltale residue of a recent cigarette impossible to miss. She must have wrinkled her nose because, as Alexandru slid behind the wheel, he shot a glance her way and began to apologize.
“I’m very sorry. A bad habit I’ve picked up in recent times, I’m afraid. I say every day I will stop and every day I do not.”
“Please.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m the guest here and this is your car. You don’t have to apologize for offending me. I don’t want to impose on you any more than I already have. Besides we have about fifty miles together—I mean eighty kilometers—to keep each other company. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable in your own car.”
He was peering out the driver’s side window, appearing to assess the traffic with a practiced ease. “You, Lura Tappe, could never make me uncomfortable.”
He didn’t know her very well then. “You obviously haven’t talked to many of my friends and relatives.”
“I believe you do not give yourself enough credit.”
“I made Vic uncomfortable,” she whispered, but not quietly enough to escape his hearing. Alexandru cut a sideways glance at her, his intelligent eyes appraising.
Lura turned to stare out the side window more to escape his scrutiny than to appreciate the passing landscape. As they cruised out of the city on a stretch of long black asphalt that seemed to disappear into the steep mountains beyond, Lura watched in silence. Trees and bushes, some bare, some still retaining their foliage, were lovely, and any other time they would have been completely entranced her with their natural beauty. Today the view only made her sad. It was so beautiful, and she was such an ugly person. Self-pity was the name of her game at the moment. She was smart enough to realize it didn’t help a damn thing, and yet she couldn’t seem to shake it. Didn’t really want to.
Alexandru reached a hand across the seats and took hold of hers. “I cannot believe that. He spoke of you like a princess.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks despite her strongest self-talk to keep them in check. “I believe it, and unfortunately, that was part of our problem. Vic never really got me. He only saw what he wanted to see, and that wasn’t even close to the real me. He saw a princess where a bitch lived.”
Alexandru actually chuckled. “Not a bitch, I think.”
“Then, what would you call a woman who sends her husband off to a country a zillion miles away just because it would give her chance to figure out how to dump him? If that’s not a class-A bitch, I don’t what is.”
There, she’d finally said it out loud. The black, ugly truth. Now Alexandru would have no choice but to see her for the asshole she really was. He’d hear her words and know they were true—and he’d hate her just like any decent person should.
His laughter was a surprise that had her turning in the seat to stare at him. “I’ve waited such a long time for you,” he said when his chuckles subsided. “Vic’s words didn’t do you justice. You are everything he described and more.”
Lura narrowed her eyes and studied this very strange man. Waited for her? What in the world did that mean? “What?”
“Believe it, Lura. It’s all true. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, and trust me when I tell you you’re not a bitch, even if you think you are. I’ve met more than a few in my life, and you are not one of them.”
She wanted to believe him, to think that deep down beneath the lies and the deception, something good still survived. Doubts continued to weigh far heavier on her heart than hope, and she wasn’t sure that would ever change. Nor did she really want to dwell on it at the moment. She just wanted to pick up Vic’s ashes and go home. There she could bury herself in work so she wouldn’t have time to dwell on unhappy, foul thoughts about herself.
Alexandru seemed to sense her mood. “There will be time enough for explanations, Lura, and I promise it will all make sense. For now, why don’t you relax and try to rest?”
“Alexandru, seriously, you’re not making a bit of sense. You don’t even know me, let alone have been waiting for me.” Even as she said the words, she thought about that first touch. What should have been a simple handshake…and wasn’t. Why was that?
The intrigue was too much for her tired mind and heavy heart. She was on overload and couldn’t deal with the effort it would take to try to figure any of this out. Despite the little bit of sleep she’d managed to pull off last night, she was tired. To just close her eyes and drift away into nothingness was a lure she couldn’t resist.
Folding her sweater to use as a pillow, Lura leaned back and closed her eyes. Alexandru patted her hand again and she found the gesture comforting. She didn’t even flinch this time, and within minutes the motion of the car lulled her into a deep, strange sleep.
*
“Motherfucker!”
Riah’s eyebrows shot up at the sound of Adriana’s curse. Not so much because it was unusual to hear Adriana curse. No, it had mo
re to do with the vehemence. It didn’t require the services of a rocket scientist to figure out things weren’t going well downstairs. At the sound of breaking glass, Riah quickened her step.
Adriana was sitting at the counter in her well-equipped lab with her head in her hands and shattered glass speckled with dried blood fanned out at her feet. Even from this distance, Riah could see her shoulders shaking and hear the sound of her sobs. Now that was unusual. Perpetual optimism was Adriana’s middle name, and to see her hurting struck at Riah’s heart.
She wasted no time standing in the doorway and closed the gap between them before putting her arms around Adriana. She pressed a kiss to her head and whispered, “What is it, love?”
“I can’t fucking find it,” Adriana said between sobs. “I’ve been trying for so long, and every time I think I’ve got it again, it all goes to shit. Why can’t I get it? I’m so stupid.”
She didn’t need to ask what it was. The Cure. As in the discovery of what would finally release Riah from the darkness that had been her world for over five centuries. Adriana had discovered it, only to have it blown sky-high in an explosion orchestrated by Riah’s vindictive first love. Ever since that awful night Adriana had been working to find it again.
So far, she’d failed.
Riah took Adriana’s face between her hands and stared into her gorgeous though watery eyes. “You are not and never have been stupid. You’ll find it again, love. You will. We all have faith in you, so you can’t even blame it on me being blinded by love. You’re brilliant and talented.”
Adriana let out a long sigh. “How can I have done it once and now fail so miserably over and over? I’m letting you down, letting Ivy and Tory down. It shouldn’t be this hard to make it happen again.”
“No, you’re not letting me or anyone else down. Not once since the first moment we met have you ever disappointed me. Quite the opposite in fact.”
Adriana’s eyes took on the sparkle that always made Riah’s heart skip a beat. “You’re sweet but so full of shit.”
Riah kissed her and smiled, so happy to hear the familiar joking banter come back into Adriana’s words. “I’m hurt.” She put a hand to her heart and frowned.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, get over it, sister. If you’re gonna be my bitch, you gotta toughen up.”
Riah laughed and kissed Adriana again. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Have I told you how much I love the way you can always make me feel better? You’re a one-of-a-kind vamp, Riah, and I love every immortal inch of you.”
Riah stroked her cheek and studied her beautiful familiar face. Would Adriana ever know how she’d saved her? How her love and the hope she gave Riah made her want to live? Before Adriana, her life had been little more than mere existence, year after year of nothing but putting one foot in front of the other. It was this beautiful woman filled to the brim with a spirit that refused to be dampened who made her believe her own life had meaning.
“We’re in this together, A. Don’t ever forget that.”
Adriana laid her head on Riah’s shoulder and slid an arm around her waist. “Not in a million years.”
Chapter Three
His hair was as black as the night, the curls falling across broad shoulders and down his back from underneath a velvet cap ringed with perfect round pearls. Though she wasn’t close enough to see the color of his eyes, his gaze was intense and probing, never leaving the face of the man who kneeled before him dressed in long robes of embroidered satin, a beautiful white turban wound around his head. Light flickered from the torches high on the walls, and in the massive fireplace, a fire roared.
She could only catch a word here and there, something about respect and homage. As the dark man spoke, the kneeling man began to shake as he dropped his head so low, his face appeared to touch the stone floor. She shrank back farther into the shadows of the tapestry hanging from the castle wall as fright sent a shiver sliding down her back. In the air a combination of body odor, cooked meat, and fear sent up a smell so strong that she gagged. She pressed a hand hard against her lips, tasting the blood as her teeth cut into tender flesh.
The beating of her heart was so hard and fast it seemed impossible that no one would hear it. Yet no one looked her way or seemed aware of her presence as she trembled in the shadows, wanting to run far away and yet unable to pull her gaze from the face of the powerful man. Sweat trickled down between her breasts, a damp trail that made the thick velvet stick to her body.
When he nodded slightly, seven soldiers came forward to encircle the man in the turban. Four leaned down to grab him, one at each hand and each foot. Together they stood, pulling on the man’s limbs until he was spread-eagle and suspended a good three feet above the stone floor. The other three soldiers marched forward, a long pointed spike held parallel in their hands, an identical frown on each face. They positioned the point of the spike directly between the man’s outstretched legs while they continued to hold firmly to the shaft. Only when the black-haired man nodded did they move. As one, the three rushed forward until the point of the spike disappeared into tender flesh. Inhuman screams filled the cavernous hall. She didn’t know if they were the impaled man’s…
Or hers.
Lura wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but her scream brought her snapping upright. She gasped for breath—sick, dizzy, and very lost. After a moment, she realized the car was no longer moving and, as she blinked to clear the lingering bloody vision, discovered she was also alone.
The sun was still up, though shadows wrapped around the car were opaque and menacing. She sat up a little straighter and looked around. Where was Alexandru, and where on earth were they? She might be disoriented, but she was also pretty damn sure they weren’t in Tirgoviste. By her calculation, they should have reached it by now. Morning was gone and the afternoon fading fast. Before too long the sun would begin to dip behind the mountains, trading the rays of sunshine for cloud-covered gloom. No, they should be there by now.
Glancing down at her hands, she was distressed to see them shaking. Great, that’s all she needed. Wimpy old Lura all shook up by a nightmare.
Still, she could call herself all sorts of names and it wouldn’t change the fact the fact that the dream, or whatever it was, had unsettled her at a very primal level. The stench of the room continued to burn in her nostrils, while the screams of the turbaned man echoed in her ears as if the scene had really happened instead of being simple REM-stage brain activity. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her ears, hoping they would shut out the inhuman screams. They didn’t. After a moment she let her hands drop away and opened her eyes. Outside the car the shadows seemed to have deepened in the few seconds her eyes had been closed. This was turning into one long trip.
Shaking hands and all, she had to find out what the heck Alexandru was up to and where he’d brought her. Pushing the car door open, she dropped her feet to the ground and gulped in fresh air. The terra firma beneath her soles helped. Slowly, awareness started to push away the cobwebs of the nightmare. Really, it was a dream—just a dream like all the others. She’d had them as long as she could remember, probably always would. Didn’t mean anything and was nothing to be afraid of. A simple case of an always active brain, awake or asleep.
Looking around, she wondered again where they were. Certainly Alexandru had to be close by. He wouldn’t leave her alone in this strange place. Then again, how would she know? She didn’t know the man except for a couple of telephone conversations and a few minutes in the car before she nodded off to sleep. So far all Lura had were two impressions of the man: he was quite good-looking and he was odd. Not much to go on, especially considering she was God knows where…alone.
*
When Riah came into the library, Ivy was on the phone speaking rapid-fire Spanish and waving her arms as if whoever was on the other end of the line could see her. If not for the tension radiating from both Ivy’s words and her body, the sight would have made Riah smil
e.
She looked over at Colin and raised an eyebrow. “Trouble?”
He shrugged. “All I’ve been able to catch so far is something about a cousin, a trip, and somebody being dead.”
She chided him. “All this time with the woman and that’s the best you can do with your Spanish? I’d have thought you’d be fluent by now.”
He shrugged again. “My fluency has an expiration point, and it all hinges on pace. I don’t do too bad until she gets to talking to family, and then she’s like a speeding freight train. I’m lucky I got what I did. She talks so fast I don’t know how anyone understands her.”
Ivy seemed to have caught that last bit, even as she appeared to be in heavy conversation with the person on the phone. She cocked her head, smiled at Colin, and winked. Then she returned her full concentration to the caller and the words began to fly once more.
“See what I mean,” he said as he ran a hand across Ivy’s glossy black hair. “She talks like a machine gun. Pretty good-looking machine gun though.”
Riah laughed, then turned away and walked to the windows. A bit of sunlight lingered outside, although here in the library the light was comfortably buffered for those who shied away from the day. Seeing the light always made her feel a little like she was still human. The lie soothed her.
When Ivy put the phone down at last, Riah turned from the window. Ivy’s usually calm expression was tight. Again Riah proffered the question, “Trouble?”
Ivy shook her head slightly, a not-quite frown on her lips. “I don’t think so, but the jury’s still out.”
Tension rolled off Ivy’s body, and though her words were calm, she wasn’t. Riah had known her long enough to see through the façade. “Something we can help with?”
This time she nodded. “Could be. My cousin, Lura, flew to Romania a couple of days ago to pick up her husband’s ashes. He was killed in some kind of freak accident over there while doing some doctor-type volunteer work. Cool guy who had no clue his wife liked women.”
Vermilion Justice Page 3
