She pulled away from his neck, almost laughing, and said aloud, “These things happen. Did you…?”
“I’m gonna die now,” he announced, answering her question. “That pretty much killed me.”
“You look pretty lively to me,” she teased. She started to climb off him but he tightened his grip in wordless denial, so she merely shifted and lay beside him.
“Have I mentioned I’m so damned glad you didn’t go out tonight?”
“Well, no. I am, too.”
“So, okay,” he sighed, stroking her shoulders. “I guess this is where we do the pillow-talk, but I’m so friggin’ tired…”
“It’s been a long night,” she told him. “For both of us. Go to sleep.”
“You first,” he yawned, but she didn’t, of course, and finally he quit fighting it and she watched him sleep. For a long time.
7
“DO you think you should check with Jerry?”
“Huh?” He scraped off another inch of shaving cream and met her eyes in the mirror. “How come? Hey, you’ve got a reflection!”
“Of course I do,” she said impatiently. “Did you make arrangements for your pets before we left?”
“Yeah, I dropped the Gladiator off with Tommy…kid’s crazy for dogs and his mom said it was okay. Him and Rusher can eat garbage together.”
“I hope you’re talking about Gladiator and Rusher,” she said, smirking. She stretched up and kissed him between the shoulder blades. He shivered, then scraped off more shaving cream.
“You keep that up,” he said, “you’ll have your hands full.”
“Perish the thought.” She kissed him again, to tease, then asked, “What about the cats?”
“The cats?”
Odd. He was a smart man, but he seemed to have trouble following the conversation this evening. “Yes, Liam, your cats.”
“Right. They’re, uh, not really…I mean, they show up, and I feed them…” He caught her expression in the mirror. “I’ll just double-check with Jerry,” he added hurriedly, then wiped his face with the towel. She followed him into the other room and watched as he dialed a phone number.
“It’s much cheaper to use my cell phone,” she commented.
“Eh, you got the bucks.”
“Just because I have it, doesn’t mean I wish to waste it.”
“Cripes, are all vampires such nags?”
She almost laughed, but managed to keep looking stern.
“Yeah, Jerry? It’s me, Liam…yeah, listen, you mind keeping an eye on my place for a couple days? Yeah, the cats pretty much take care of themselves…they keep the mice population down in the barn so you don’t gotta worry about feeding them, and there’s fresh water over by the pump, but just…uh…check in on ’em every day or so? You mind? Yeah, I’ll be back—what? No, Sophie and me didn’t run off together. I mean, we did, but we’ll be back…right?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “We’ll be back? Yeah, she’s nodding…uh-huh. None of your damn business, and thanks for watching the cats.” He hung up. “There, can I finish shaving now?”
“Yes, please,” she said, still trying not to laugh. Embarrass was a small town; she could just imagine the storm of gossip that had arisen when she and Liam had disappeared together.
He muttered something as he passed her, but even her attuned vampire hearing didn’t catch it. It sounded like, “Women.” Such things, it seemed, transcended age.
“I just don’t think—”
“I’m goin’.”
“But I’m not sure you realize—”
“Goin’.”
“But it isn’t necessary for you to—”
“Sophie.”
“But—”
“Sophie.”
She slumped back against the seat and sighed, something she didn’t often do. He was impossible. Implacable. Men! She’d forgotten how oddly protective they could get after a little hip-bumping.
The last thing she needed was to bring a sheep to the library; Marjorie was a little touchy on subjects like that. The head librarian was so old, and so infinitely crafty, most people were drooling idiots in comparison. Especially most humans, who had only a fraction of her life span and knowledge. Subsequently, the old vampire didn’t suffer fools lightly. Liam wasn’t a fool, but compared to Marjorie…
Well, this was for the greater good, and the thought of restraining Liam—knocking him out, somehow, like they did in the movies?—did not sit well with her. She would just have to…
Her truck door swung open and Liam stuck his head in. “You coming?”
“Yes,” she replied through gritted teeth. “In fact, would you kindly follow me.”
“No problem,” he said, cheerful now that he saw he was getting his way. He pointedly ignored all her glares and sulks and followed her into the building, which looked like an abandoned warehouse.
Inside, of course, was a different story.
“Huh,” Liam said, looking around. “Looks a lot smaller from the outside.”
“Good evening, Sophie,” Marjorie said, standing right beside the main desk, looking (as she always did) as if she had been waiting just for them.
“Marjorie,” she replied, and they kissed on both cheeks. She didn’t bother introducing Liam; Marjorie wouldn’t have cared. “I’m not here to relax and read, I’m afraid. I need to meet with the queen tonight. Can you arrange it?”
Marjorie wrinkled her brow. She was a tallish woman with excellent posture and black hair streaked with gray. Her dark eyes were cold, though, and any resemblance to someone’s youngish grandmother was strictly imaginary. “I don’t keep her appointments, I’m afraid. But I can give you directions to her house.”
“You mean just…go there?”
Marjorie shrugged apologetically. “It’s how things are done now.”
“Since Nostro was killed?”
“Yes. The new queen is somewhat…relaxed in her rules.”
“Well, there’s nothing for it,” Sophie said, nibbling on her lower lip. “I must speak with her. It can’t wait another night.”
“Of course. You’re in luck, too,” she added, nodding in Liam’s direction. “She’s fond of sheep. She has a couple of them herself.”
“Uh…”
“Excuse me,” Liam said. “I was having a little trouble with that one. What’s a mouton?”
Startled, Sophie realized she and Marjorie had been speaking in French the entire time. “Liam, I apologize. When Marjorie greeted us in French I just slipped into it—”
“That’s okay. I was gettin’ most of it. All those For Dummies books and tapes are really good,” he added.
Sophie blinked. “You studied French on your own?” Of course he did, she realized. The high school didn’t offer it. Only Spanish.
“Well…yeah. Because you…I mean, nobody in town knows anything about you, except that you’re French. And I thought, you know, if I knew your language, we could maybe…” He shrugged. “I dunno.”
Overcome, Sophie was for a moment unable to speak. She merely gaped at him like a fish while Marjorie shifted her weight impatiently. Finally, she turned to the older woman and managed, “We’ll take that map, thank you.”
“I’ve got it right here for you.”
Wordlessly, Sophie took the piece of paper. As Marjorie always looked as though she was waiting for whoever came to see her, she also always had exactly what that person needed. The older vampires were all used to it.
“Thank you for coming by,” the librarian was saying. “And thank you for bringing your sheep. He smells divine.”
“I ain’t a sheep,” Liam said flatly. His midwestern drawl, usually pleasant and unassuming, had hardened. “I’m a man. Her man.”
Marjorie smirked, but Sophie was suddenly ashamed. Equally suddenly, she didn’t care for the smile on Marjorie’s face. “Of course, Liam. I—I—” She had no clue what to say. Should she apologize? But Marjorie had been the one who had given offense. Although she herself had referred to Liam as a sheep, in her mind. Should she—