by Sloan Archer
“But I’m no longer vampire . . .” Robert said lamely. I knew him well enough to know that he was thrilled about Leopold’s offer, despite his protests.
Leopold smacked his lips. “You’ve known me for how long? Surely by now you grasp how futile arguing with me is.”
“You really should let him take over,” Shelia said. “It could take me years to come up with the same results Leopold would probably produce in the matter of weeks. I’m no phlebotomist. My area of expertise is dead bodies—human dead bodies.”
Robert traced a finger along the pattern of the sofa—muted black and gold stripes over paisley. I disliked the color scheme immensely. Robert’s taste in furniture was flamboyant to say the least (precisely what one would expect from a man from the Victorian era). I preferred the clean lines of Danish furniture of the 1960’s. But I figured if conflicting tastes in furniture was our biggest bone of contention, we were doing all right as a couple.
Robert prompted, “If you don’t think it would be a bother . . .”
Leopold clapped a small hand down on Robert’s arm. “Let’s not play the politeness game, alright? It’s a done deal. ” He pouted at Shelia. “It’s unfortunate that you live all the way over here in California. I could use a scientist with your knowhow. And those divine peepers of yours . . . Like two fiery balls of ember.”
Robert rolled his eyes and Shelia ran her fingers through her hair, flattered. Even scary aristocratic vampires had their way of disarming the ladies. “Thank you, Leopold. I was happy to help,” she twinkled.
“Since you’re already here, would you be able to take some samples from Mercy and Robert?” Leopold asked. “Get a few vials of blood for me to take back to London?”
“Sure,” Shelia said. She patted the side of her bag, large enough to hold a kitchen sink. “I brought supplies with me, just in case. If Mercy and Robert are okay with donating?”
Robert and I nodded. Shelia opened her bag and took out a couple of syringes. She went to work collecting our blood.
“I’m starting to feel like a pincushion,” Robert joked. It broke my heart to see him trying so fiercely to prove that he wasn’t scared.
Leopold watched as Shelia expertly labeled the vials. As she handed them over to Leopold, he asked, “Would you like to come to London and work for me?”
Shelia fluttered her fingers so that the light caught her wedding ring. “I wish I could . . . But, you know, priorities.”
“How is your boy?” Robert asked.
“He’s great,” Shelia grinned. “I never thought of myself as the motherly type, but that kid brings me so much joy, even when I’m changing his smelly diapers. He’s teething, so he’s been fussy.” She opened her purse and checked the time on her cell phone. “Speaking of which, I should go. Scott—that’s my husband—is hopeless when it comes to feeding time. He’s probably defrosting a pizza to feed the baby as we speak.”
Robert, Leopold, and I nodded politely.
“My goodness! Look at me, blabbing on and on. I swore to myself that I’d never be the kind of parent who bores people about my child. Yet here I am, going on about diapers and teething.”
“No, it’s lovely,” Leopold assured her. “Your tales of parenting offer a bit of normalcy to my otherwise strange life. As vampire, I don’t have too many friends with children, as you can imagine.”
“I’m sorry I can’t indulge you further,” Shelia said, getting up. “I really do need to go.” She held her hand out for Leopold to shake. “It was good to meet you.”
Leopold took Shelia’s hand in both of his and kissed it gently. “The pleasure was all mine.”
Shelia tittered and then gave Robert and me a quick nod. “Nice to see you two again. You’re such a lovely couple. I wish I could do more for you guys. But you have my number, so don’t be afraid to use it if you have more questions.”
I imagined she was only being polite. If I were Shelia I’d be glad to be rid of us, with my inane medical comments, Robert’s random outbursts, and Leopold’s semi-lecherous fawning.
Shelia demurred when Robert offered to walk her to her car, but Robert insisted, ever the gentleman. I think he suspected that Leopold would follow her out and keep flirting if he didn’t.
When Robert came back, Leopold stood. “I should go as well.”
“But you just got here!” Robert exclaimed. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait a minute, you aren’t going after Shelia, are you? Easy Don Juan, she’s married.”
Leopold straightened his lapels. “Well, I never! I wouldn’t dream of pursuing a married woman.”
Robert and I both scoffed, “Right.”
“I’ll have you know that I’m returning to my jet.”
“You’re flying back tonight?” I asked. “But you haven’t even been in America for twenty-four hours!”
“Mercy, darling, when you are as old as I am time is irrelevant. One day, one week, one year . . . It all feels the same to me.”
“But surely you can stay over? I’ve prepared the other sleeping chamber for you,” Robert said.
“Thank you, Robert. I appreciate it. But I would like to get a handle on this human situation straightaway.” Leopold’s tone was as unkind as Marlena’s had been when she’d discussed Robert being human.
While working at Dignitary I’d learned that vampires adored humans. Now I was realizing that they loved humans as long as they didn’t have to be one. I was developing a chip on my shoulder about the whole thing, tempted to remind Leopold that he, too, had once been mortal. It was a detail many vampires tended to forget.
Robert cleared his throat and inclined his head in my direction.
“No offense, Mercy,” Leopold said pleasantly.
I smiled sweetly. “None taken.” So I was a liar. I was, after all, only human.
7
We received word from London a few months later.
The news arrived while Robert and I were lounging in bed, watching reruns of Who’s the Boss. As I’d learned after we moved in together, Robert wasn’t a big viewer of television. Most vampires typically weren’t, the exemptions being nature programs—presumably so they could venture out into the sunny outdoors vicariously—and soap operas, which I had no theory on whatsoever. (It’s not like vampires didn’t get to see enough drama in their day-to-day lives.)
A diehard bookworm, I would have gladly accepted a book as a gift over a DVD any day. Still, I enjoyed indulging in the occasional Sunday binge session of 1980’s American sitcom classics, shows like Facts of Life, Family Ties, and, my favorite, Magnum, P.I. Robert swore that I had a crush on Tom Selleck. Robert was correct. There was something about the way Tommy looked in those short nylon shorts with the side slit . . . And don’t get me started on that mustache.
We were all snuggled in with a buttery bowl of popcorn when Robert’s cellphone buzzed in the other room for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.
I jumped. “I swear that thing was made with parts of a lawnmower engine!”
Robert laughed and eased his legs over the side of the bed. “It is loud, isn’t it?”
“Loud? No, a chainsaw is loud. Your cell is worse than that—sounds like it’s going to vibrate a hole through your desk.” I threw a leg over his lap and pulled back lazily. “Don’t go. I’m so comfortable.”
Robert patted my thigh. “Me, too. But I should get it. If whoever it is has called this many times, it could be important. Probably work.”
“On a Sunday?” I challenged. “They’d better not!”
Robert grinned and eased a hand up my shirt, pinching me on my two favorite sensitive areas, right where it counted. “So bossy, aren’t we Ms. Montgomery?”
“They shouldn’t be calling you on Sunday,” I sulked, trying to pay no attention to his groping. “You do own the company.”
“Yes, I do, my lovely. But I haven’t been around lately, have I?”
Robert had been working from home since his changeover. He sometimes went to his off
ice downtown either very early in the morning or very late at night, but at those times he only encountered the cleaning crew or fledgling workers looking to be promoted because of their overzealousness.
Robert didn’t want to arouse suspicion at his company due his altered appearance, though I didn’t think it would be all that glaring to a human observer. Liz and Marlena detected the changes more than I did, since their vampire senses were heightened. To me, Robert’s concern seemed unfounded. I’d pointed out to him that most higher-ups at his company were in the know about his immortal secret (back when he was immortal), anyway, and a few of them were even vampires themselves. Robert’s rebuttal was that he didn’t want his vampire employees to realize that he’d turned back into a human. He thought that they might view it as a weakness and try to take advantage. He said that revealing his humanism to his underlings would be unnecessary, anyway, since he had every intention of changing back.
What I thought might be closer to the truth was that Robert still felt crummy. His fever had been coming and going with the regularity earthquakes. Sometimes his sweats would last for minutes, an hour or two tops. Other times, his fever would spike, leaving him sweating and shivering throughout the night. Then he’d be perfectly fine for a couple of days. It was scary and unpredictable.
I hoped Leopold would come up with a solution soon, not only for Robert’s health but also for the sake of our relationship. I loved Robert with every fiber of my being, but I was starting to crave some “me” time after nearly twelve weeks of us being pasted together like peanut butter and jelly.
“A few of the higher-ups have started asking questions,” Robert mentioned.
“Questions about what?”
“In all the years I’ve been running the company, I’ve never once missed a day of work. It’s not as if I needed sick days. Now, I’m missing week upon week. It looks suspicious. It’s natural that a few rumors are starting to fly.”
“What do they think you’re doing?”
Robert frowned. “A few of them suspect that I’m selling the company, maybe merging with another.”
“How do you know about the rumors? You have a spy on your staff?” I was joking about the spy thing.
Robert was serious, however. “Yes and no. Leopold had some of his people fly in to keep an eye on the company during my absence—a man and a woman. I’ve made up jobs for them. I didn’t think calling them spies would encourage company morale.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“I don’t tell you a lot of things that go on at the office, Mercy. I’m sure you’d find most of it supremely boring. I know I do, and it’s my company.”
“They still shouldn’t call on the weekend,” I huffed. “Don’t they realize that we have a Danza bonanza going on?”
“A what?”
“Tony Danza? From Who’s the . . . Oh, never mind.”
Robert wiggled his eyebrows. “You must have a crush on him, too.”
“You’d better go and answer the phone before it stops ringing,” I said, and then it did just that. I smiled smugly. “Looks like you don’t have to get up after all.”
The cell pinged with a voicemail notification.
Robert got to his feet. “Won’t be a moment, my sweet.” He eyed the oversized silver bowl on the bed. “Try not to eat all the popcorn while I’m gone.”
I rolled my eyes to show him I wasn’t amused, though I soon was as I watched his backside bounding towards the office. His butt looked like a juicy peach nestled in pajama bottoms.
Robert called, “That was Leopold. I’m going to give him a ring back.” It troubled me when he shut the door to his office.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed when Robert returned. It was good that he came back when he did or else I would have gnawed my fingernails right down to the knuckles. Or eaten all the popcorn.
He took a seat next to me and placed a hand over my knee. My heart was beating clear up in my ears.
“Is the news . . . positive? Or bad? It’s bad, isn’t it? What did he say? We’ll get through it, Robert! I’m here for you!”
“Mercy! Calm down. Nothing is wrong.”
My blood pressure plummeted about a thousand points. “So what did he say?”
“He didn’t really give me news,” Robert said. “Not fully, anyway.”
“What do you mean, there’s no news? How can that be?”
“Your passport is still valid, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve never used it, but it’s valid.” Grams, my grandmother who’d raised me, had always insisted that I have a passport. Though we could never afford to travel, she’d engrained in me that I should be prepared if the opportunity for jet-setting presented itself. It was her version of dress for the job you want.
“How would you like to go to London?”
“As in London, England?” I clarified.
“Yes.”
“What’s this all about?”
“Leopold wants us to fly to London to tour the lab he set up. He’s invited us to stay at his estate. It’s beautiful and old. You’ll love it.”
“But has he found a cure?”
Robert shook his head. “That’s why he wants me—us—to fly over there. Now, before you get too excited, Leopold does not have a cure. Not yet. But he says he’s getting close, and that he has some of the best scientists in the world on his staff. He wants us there so that he can run a few more tests.”
“Of course I’ll go!” I squealed. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow. Leopold’s sorted all our travel arrangements.”
“He has? But he just talked to you.”
“Do it now and ask for permission later, that’s our Leopold. He’s lucky I agreed or else he would have been embarrassed, eh?” I was tempted to point out to Robert that he was lucky that I was saying yes to him, since he’d agreed to Leopold’s request without checking with me first.
“Wow. Okay, so off to the UK we go.” I made a mental checklist of what I was going to pack.
As if reading my mind, Robert informed me, “Leopold said not to worry too much about packing.”
“What does he expect me to wear?”
Robert, smiling mischievously, said, “He’s very close friends with a womenswear designer in London. She’s setting you up with all the clothes you’ll need for our visit.”
Well, well. “What the designer’s name?”
“Seraphim Blythe.”
I nearly choked. “Leopold actually knows Seraphim Blythe? She’s only one of my favorite designers in the whole wide world, not that I’ve ever been able to afford her clothes! I was just drooling over a dress of hers in that issue of Vogue on the table!”
I wasn’t blowing smoke. I love-love-loved Seraphim’s clothes. Though she also made flouncy evening gowns, her streetwear aesthetic was very rocker chic: flowing silk dresses done in edgy animal skull prints, skinny jeans with subtle leather trim and tiny studs around the pockets, sweet canvas clutch bags with velvet linings and gold safety pin zipper pulls, dainty rose gold rings done in the shapes of spider webs and guns. I wasn’t sure if I could pull off all her looks, but damned if I wasn’t going to try.
“Yes, Leopold knows her very well,” Robert said. “She’s like his sister. Though, knowing Leopold, he’s probably committed, um, friendly incest with her.”
“So they’re friends with benefits.”
“Sure, that’s one way to put it.”
“Is she a . . . ?”
“Vampire? Sure. Couldn’t you tell?”
“Get out of here!”
Predicting my next question, he said, “Seraphim’s a little younger than me, I think . . . About a hundred and ten.”
“But how?” I demanded. “She’s famous! Being in the spotlight would call attention to the fact that she’s never aged.”
“You’ve heard of Seraphim’s mother, Daniela?”
“Uh, yah! Seraphim learned all she knows about sewing and fashion from her mother. Dani
ela is the one who started the Blythe label, with the help of her mother.”
Robert blinked at me. “You’re a groupie, are you? What do they call it—a fan girl? I had no idea.”
“I know my fashion history is all.” I folded my arms. “What? It’s my one guilty girly pleasure!”
Robert unfolded my arms and then wrapped them around his waist. “Oh Mercy. I learn something new about you every day.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m so looking forward to our life together. Never a dull moment with you.”
“So what about Daniela? Did she not teach Seraphim everything she knows about fashion? Is there some fashion conspiracy?”
“Yes and no.” He waited for me to pick up on what he was putting down.
I wasn’t getting it. “Uh . . .”
“You ever notice how much Daniela and Seraphim look alike?” He widened his eyes. Get it? Get it?
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No!” I repeated. “You don’t mean . . . Seraphim and Daniela are the same person?”
“Well, vampire. But yes.”
“And Daniela’s mother—Seraphim’s grandmother?”
“Same.” He chuckled. “Did you really not realize?” He asked this in a manner that implied Um, but how could you not when it’s SO obvious?
“No, Robert, it never occurred to me that a world-famous fashion designer is a actually a vampire who has lived the lives of three generations of women and is currently masquerading as a human in London.”
“Oh? And why not?” he joked.
“How has she managed to get away with it? Fool the world for all those years? That’s what I want to know.”
“According to Leopold—I’ve never met the woman myself—she stages her own death before people start to take notice of her unchanging youth.”
“That’s right! If I remember correctly, her mother died in a horrible automobile accident.”
“Yes, and her grandmother drowned.”
“But I’ve seen the old black and white photos of both Daniela and Seraphim when they were kids.”
“Yes, because vampires never lie,” Robert said. “It’s our truthfulness that sets us apart from the humans.”
