Stakes & Stilettos ib-4 Page 14

  "Cross my heart."

  I guess that was enough to convince him, as our lips met again and held and I kissed him deeply. I waited, feeling a little tense, before I relaxed against him and opened my mouth to the kiss.

  I felt a bit of pain as my enthusiastic tongue met the edge of his sharp fang, but I ignored it. Fangs can get in the way of making out, though normally it was my fangs that got in the way. This time it was Thierry's.

  With the small taste of my blood, his grip on me grew tighter and the kiss more urgent. I thought for a moment about Butch being right outside the door and maybe this wasn't quite the perfect moment or location for taking things any further, but the thoughts quickly left my mind as I lost myself in the kiss and I wanted more of him. My mind grew cloudy and my skin warmed at his touch. Thierry broke off the kiss and held my face between his hands.

  "Do you know how deeply I care for you?" he said, his eyes black and his voice raspy.

  "Show me," I said, leaning back on the desk. "Right here. Right now." Again with the sultry voice and rising lust as I looked at the black-eyed Thierry.

  Red flag!

  Alert! Alert!

  Danger!

  He pushed me back onto the desk and pressed his weight on top of me, his mouth on me, licking a hot line along the pulse at the side of my throat. I ran my hands down his back under his jacket just as I felt his sharp fangs pierce my skin.

  Unlike the last time he'd bitten me, which had been painful and scary, this felt very, very good. I knew on some level that my mind wasn't working the way it should. That this actually wasn't good. But… but it felt so… overpowering. Better than sex. Better than chocolate, even, and that's saying something. True, I couldn't eat it anymore and didn't even get cravings for it, but my memories of chocolate were… well, not as good as this.

  I vaguely wondered why he hadn't been able to stop himself this time, unlike last night, when I'd begged him to bite me and he'd managed to put the brakes on just in time.

  But last night he hadn't tasted my blood first. This time he had, if only a couple of drops—

  his fangs had been sharper than normal or this never would have happened. He was still hungry from last night. Hungry for me.

  He began tearing at my clothes as he drank from me. But no… no, I realized through my current fog that he wasn't frantically attempting to remove my clothes and make love to me on his desk, he was trying to hold on to me while Butch was wrenching him off of my body.

  Thierry was strong, but Butch had leverage. I felt my blouse rip and a few buttons popped right off, and then Thierry was on his feet halfway across the room, his eyes black, the back of his hand held up against his mouth.

  "I didn't want to interrupt." Butch sounded embarrassed. "But I think it's a good thing I did."

  I touched my neck where I'd been bitten and blinked up at them.

  I watched Thierry slowly come to the realization of what he'd just done. Pain and grief filled his expression.

  "Sarah," he managed. "No, not again. I'm sorry. Dammit… I…"

  "Forget it." I stood up from the desk and, still in my mental fog, walked toward him, threw my arms around him and kissed him hard on his mouth. I could taste my own blood on his lips.

  Butch grabbed my blouse, succeeding in tearing it even more. I spun around to face him.

  "Your eyes—" He looked worried. "Sarah, just calm down. We're going to find help.

  There's something seriously wrong with you."

  "You really think so?" I heard myself say. Then I grabbed him by his black T-shirt and threw him across the room. His head hit the wall hard and he slid down to the ground unconscious.

  Chapter 11

  As soon as I saw that I'd effortlessly knocked out a three-hundred-pound bodyguard, I snapped out of my monster-madness daze.

  Thierry immediately went over to Butch to make sure I hadn't killed him. Luckily he was just knocked out. I was shaking. I could tell by Thierry's expression as he looked up at me that he could see my distress and wanted to comfort me in some way, but we'd finally learned our lesson the hard way. No more physical contact until we'd figured this mess out.

  He was about to say something and I held up my hand.

  "Don't apologize again," I said shakily. "I'm the one who should."

  "Sarah—"

  "Please… just take Butch out of here. I need to be alone. In fact, I think it's safer for everyone involved if I stay in here until further notice."

  He pulled Butch up to his feet. "I will get him some water. He'll be fine."

  I nodded and moved safely behind the desk. Thierry glanced at me again over his shoulder as he left the office.

  "It will all be all right," he said.

  "I still believe it," I told him as firmly as I could.

  And I did. I believed that everything would be okay. What choice did I have?

  He left. His eyes had already returned to normal. I had a funny feeling that mine hadn't, and a quick quick in my shard pulled out of my purse confirmed it. Black as midnight and scary as hell. I still felt fuzzy around the edges. I touched the fresh fang marks on my throat and flinched.

  I blinked and felt tears splash to my cheeks. This was so wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Damn curse. Damn that Stacy. And damn me for making her hate me enough to want to make my life a living hell.

  I tried to find the positive in the situation, but the glass remained half empty.

  A few minutes later no one had come to check on me—not that I blamed them—and the private phone line in Thierry's office began to ring. For lack of anything better to do, I reached over to pick it up.

  "Haven," I said blandly.

  "This is Veronique, who is this?"

  I sat up straighter in the chair. "Veronique… it's… it's Sarah."

  "Ah, Sarah, very good. I need to speak to my husband. It's rather urgent and he's not answering his cell phone."

  Veronique had left Toronto a few weeks ago to head back to her home in France. She'd called a few times since and never seemed to recognize my voice. I tried not to take it too personally.

  "He's occupied at the moment. Can I get him to call you back?"

  She sighed and it sounded annoyed. "Occupied. Did he ask you to say that? Is he attempting to avoid me, for some strange reason?"

  "Not that I'm aware of. Listen, I'll tell him that you called and he'll get back to you as soon as he can, okay?"

  "No, it is not okay."

  "What's the problem?"

  "The problem…" She breathed out the words in her barely noticeable French accent. "Is that I have received paperwork from my husband that disturbs me greatly."

  "What kind of paperwork?"

  There was a long silence. "He has initiated an annulment of our marriage that he wishes for me to sign."

  My mouth went dry. "Oh?" I tried to sound surprised. "An annulment, you say? How very odd and unexpected."

  "I don't know what could have prompted this action. A Vatican vampire delivered the papers by hand only moments ago. He'd flown from Rome for this express purpose."

  Vatican vampire?

  "Well" I began cautiously. "Maybe Thierry wants you to have your freedom. I mean, you two don't live together, you don't spend any time together, for how long now? More than a hundred years?"

  "What does that have to do with anything?"

  "I'm just thinking that maybe this is something that has been in the works for a while."

  There was a pause, and then, "Do you know what he states as the reason our marriage should be annulled?"

  I twisted a finger into my hair and tried to will myself to relax. "No idea."

  "That I had no intention of staying true to my vows of fidelity when we married."

  I waited. "And?"

  "And what?"

  "Are you trying to tell me that you've been faithful to him for six hundred years?"

  She cleared her throat. "That is a little personal, my dear. He also goes on to say that he has reaso
n to believe that I was already married when we were wed."

  My eyebrows went up at that. "Were you?"

  She cleared her throat again. "You know, it was a very long time ago. Certain details are, of course, a tad obscured by time."

  "Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this? Your marriage is in name only, isn't it? That's assuming you weren't already married to… what was the dude's name you were head over fangs for back in the day… Marcellus?"

  She sniffed. "Yes, my true love, Marcellus. I still think of him every day."

  "Were you married to him before you met Thierry?"

  "It doesn't matter anymore."

  "Sure it does." I felt a hot line of anger beginning to snake through me. This woman, while beautiful and intimating and ancient, was annoying as all hell. And considering who she was and how completely she screwed up my love life by her very existence, I actually didn't dislike her. Annoyance. That was all. But annoyance wasn't hate.

  "I loved Marcellus with every fiber of my being. He was my soulmate."

  I cleared my throat. "And what about Thierry?"

  "Pardonnez-moi?"

  "What was Thierry to you? I mean, you did get hitched, after all, whether or not it was actually 100 percent legit."

  "Things were different then, my dear."

  "Were you in love with him?" My voice raised a level in volume.

  "I don't believe that I remember you being like this before," she said. "You are normally so calm, collected, and polite. Barely noticeable, really. Is there trouble?"

  I leaned back in the leather chair and sighed. "You could say that."

  "Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?"

  "Yes, actually, there is."

  "What, my dear?" she asked. "You are one of my truest friends and I would certainly do anything in my power to make your life happier."

  "Sign the papers."

  "Pardon me?"

  My grip on the phone increased. "I said, sign the papers. The annulment papers? In front of you? Sign them. You don't love Thierry and he doesn't love you. You don't even mind that he and I are together, which let's face it, is not normal loving-wife behavior. Your marriage is a sham and I get the feeling it's been pretty much over ever since the plague-

  infested honeymoon. There really isn't any problem here. Keep the last name if that's what you want. Just sign the papers and set him free."

  There was silence for a moment. "Free to be with you, you mean."

  "That's right."

  "So you did know about this little matter after all."

  "I may have heard about it."

  "Was it your idea?"

  "No."

  "I don't believe you."

  I sighed heavily. "Believe what you want, Veronique. I'm sorry that the idea that he wants a clean break after all this time hurt you, and I'm sorry if I'm sounding a bit bitchy, but I've just recently been cursed to act like a walking vampire cliche who can't go out during the day in case I get burnt to a crisp, so I guess my mood could be a little better."

  "A curse?" Her tone turned curious. "Tell me more."

  And I did.

  "It sounds as if you are behaving like a nightwalker," she said after I finished telling her about my side-effects.

  I felt cold at that. "Yeah, I know. Thierry hasn't completely confirmed that's what I am now, but I'm thinking he's just trying to protect me. Do you think that's what this sounds like?"

  "I don't know for certain." Her words were clipped. "All I can say is to be careful, my dear. Be very careful until the curse is broken."

  "Can you tell me more about these nightwalkers?"

  "I do not wish to discuss more unpleasantries. I must go now."

  "Wait… are you going to sign the papers?" I asked.

  "No, I don't think that I will."

  My knuckles were white on the phone. "Why not?"

  "I will need to give it some thought."

  "What thought? You don't love him. You don't want to be with him."

  "Marriage has very little to do with love, my dear. I have tolerated your relationship with my husband only because I felt that it was a minor distraction that had no future. But this is the first time I have been presented with such nonsense as the end of our marriage because of some silly, inconsequential girl. Now, please have my husband"—she enunciated the word—"call me at his earliest convenience."

  She hung up.

  I glared at the phone after slamming it back in the receiver. If she had been here I would probably have bitten her. Hard. And that wasn't exactly an empty threat anymore.

  Why did everything have to be so complicated? Couldn't I have what I wanted in life? Just once? Just one time without any gauntlets to run through first?

  No, I didn't think so.

  So now what? I stared at the phone that I'd decided was the cause of all of my problems.

  Stupid phone. What now?

  The phone rang again.

  Damn evil phone!

  I picked it up and held it to my ear. "What?"

  "Is that any way to answer the telephone?"

  I frowned. "Who is this?"

  "You still don't recognize me?"

  My eyes narrowed. "Stacy. Good to hear from you. How's it going?"

  "You won't even give me the courtesy of sounding surprised that I managed to find out where you are and get the phone number? You think this shit is easy?"

  "Save it. I'm not in the mood."

  She tsked her tongue. "You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Let's get right to it. I want for us to meet. And I insist that you don't bring your boyfriend or your large hulking bodyguard along or I may get very angry with you."

  Not that Butch probably would come twenty feet near me at the moment.

  I let out a long breath and rubbed my temples with one hand. "Look, Stacy, I've been thinking a lot about high school. And what you've done to me is horrible, but I'm starting to understand it."

  "You're ready to apologize to me? An actual, sincere apology this time?"

  "Yeah. Definitely. I'm s—"

  "No," she cut me off. "Not over the phone. I want you to apologize to my face."

  My jaw tightened. "Is that really necessary?"

  "Why, are you afraid of me?"

  You should be the one who's afraid, I thought darkly, and I knew right then that I wasn't afraid of this messed-up bitch in the slightest. Annoyed and pissed off, yeah. But not afraid.

  "Of course I'm afraid," I said instead. "I'd be stupid if I wasn't. You've obviously got a lot of power at your fingertips. I'll never watch reruns of Bewitched with the lights off again."

  "I promise not to use my magic against you tonight," she said.

  "And I'd believe you because?"

  "Because you have no other choice, do you? Tell me, is your boyfriend still alive?"

  "Yes," I hissed. "Of course he is."

  "Hmm, I would have thought that the two of you would have torn each other's throats out by now. Your restraint, or his, is quite admirable. Especially given his past."

  "What the hell do you know about him?"

  She laughed softly. "Only that he is a man of many secrets. I'd love to tell you one of his best-kept secrets, Sarah. After your humble apology, and perhaps some groveling."

  Before I opened my mouth to tell her to go to hell, she continued. "The park across from your little vampire bar. Ten minutes."

  She hung up.

  I didn't like that she knew where I was. She seemed to know a lot of my business and it made me extremely uncomfortable.

  Ten minutes. Okay. I stood up and clutched the side of the desk. I actually wasn't scared, which was a new sensation for me. I think Veronique's phone call had infused me with some seething unpleasantness that was giving me the equivalent of what used to be liquid courage. No liquor. Wouldn't work on me anymore. Seething unpleasantness was now my drink of choice.

  I felt no fear. My paranoia had decided to take the night off. Maybe it was the
curse making me feel overconfident, but I was ready to kick some skinny-witch butt.

  I'd go meet her. I'd apologize. She'd break the curse. Everybody would be happy and dance and sing. It made sense. After all, she wasn't a serial killer, she was a witch with a grudge. She had something I wanted and I had something she wanted. Magic words on both sides—an apology and a few Latin phrases tossed out and all of this nastiness would be over. I might even stay up to watch the sun rise as part of my curse-free celebration along with all the dancing and singing.

  I couldn't go out the main doors because Thierry would be there and he'd have a ton of questions. I knew he wouldn't want me to go and meet her, but this was my window of opportunity. Besides, anyone who messed with me tonight was in for a rude awakening.

  I'd just thrown a three-hundred-pound bodyguard across the room. A bleached-blond, big-

  boobed witch would be no problem.

  I swung the door to Thierry's office open.

  I heard an "Ow" and I smelled smoke.

  Behind the door was George, rubbing his nose with one hand and holding a cigarette in the other.

  I eyed the burning tobacco. "I thought you quit."

  He shrugged. "It's been a stressful day."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Keeping an eye on you, even though I haven't seen the Red Devil since yesterday. I'm guarding the door."

  "Thierry will kick your ass if he sees you smoking in here."

  He dropped the cigarette and ground it into the hardwood floor. "Gone."

  "So am I." I walked past him headed for the back door. My coat was out front, but since the weather didn't bother me much anymore I didn't really need it. This wasn't going to take long.

  He grabbed my shoulder. "Hold on there, you vicious little vixen. Where do you think you're going?" His eyes widened when I told him. "And you're just leaving? Just like that?

  Without even telling Thierry?" His gaze flicked to my neck and then down at my half-torn blouse and my black bra underneath. "Look at you, all Rocky Horror Picture Ho."

  "I'm getting this curse broken, and this is how I have to do it. You can come if you want.

  It won't take long."

  I heard footsteps. Somebody was coming along the hallway, possibly to use the bathroom or possibly to check up on me. I grabbed George's arm and pulled him along with me to the back door, opened it, and let it swing shut behind us.