Casa Dracula 3 - The Bride Of Casa Dracula (26 page)

I had acted without regard for Oswald, but now I felt a wracking guilt for treating Ian as if he was disposable. And that misplaced emotion left me wondering exactly what kind of heartless, twisted bitch I’d become.

I walked outside and didn’t recognize the neighborhood. I teetered on my heels down the hill and toward the water. I found my hotel, got my things together, and headed north. It was time to straighten out my relationship and my life.

I knew one thing for certain now: I knew I was capable of doing the things that would make me a proper vampire bride for Oswald.

seriously on the rocks with a twist

O swald was in the study and there were neat piles of folders on his desk, and coffee mugs here and there.

“I’m home, honey,” I said, hoping that my voice didn’t sound too flagrantly whorish. I went to kiss him, suddenly paranoid that he would smell Ian on me. Which was impossible. I’d showered again at the hotel, and the only thing on my clothes was the faint stench of mothballs from the ride.

“Hi, Mil,” he said, looking confused. “What are you doing here?”

I dropped onto the sofa. “I live here and I’m going to stay here. I didn’t see your grandmother’s car out there.”

“She’s staying with Winnie and Sam this week.”

“She never seems to be home anymore,” I said, both bothered that Edna was gone again and relieved that I wouldn’t have to hide anything from her sharp eyes. I pulled a business card out of my pocket and picked up the phone. I punched in a long series of numbers.

“Who are you calling?”

I smiled at him, and when the woman on the other end of the line answered, “Hello,” I said, “Mrs. Smith, this is Milagro De Los Santos. I’d like to speak to Mr. Nixon.”

Oswald had abruptly stood up and was mouthing “Stop! Stop!”

I turned away from him and said, “Yes, well tell Mr. Nixon that I’ve changed my mind about all of our agreements. The Council is stuck with me and I’m stuck with them, and I strongly recommend that they get over themselves.”

Oswald was now standing in front of me, trying to grab the phone from my hand. I hunched over it and covered the mouthpiece, saying, “She put me on hold. What is it?”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m declaring my independence,” I said.

Mrs. Smith got back on the line and said, “Mr. Nixon will be coming to meet with you and Dr. Grant in two days.”

“Fine,” I told her. “I’ll give him a tour of the countryside. If he’s not afraid of heights, I’ll take him to a winery that has a funicular. Everyone loves a funicular. Adios.”

I hung up and said to Oswald, “Nixon’s coming to visit in two days.”

He ran his hands through his hair and said, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Believe it, because it’s done. I’m starving. Do you want some lunch?”

He didn’t want lunch. He wanted to argue with me. He was shouting that I should call back and apologize, while I made a pot of coffee and whipped up an omelet. “But I’m not sorry. I should have done this from the beginning.”

“What is wrong with you? Why are you throwing all our work away?”

“You’ve been going along with the Council for my sake, and I’ve been going along with them for your sake, and neither of us is happy. The fact is that even if I do everything they want, they’ll never fully accept me, and I’m done with trying to alter who I am for others. I’m done with selling out.”

“Ensuring your security is not selling out.”

“Then why do I feel so compromised, Oswald?”

I ate while he glared at me, and then I took the scraps out to the cats. Oswald followed me outside and watched me looking for them.

“Where are the cats?”

“Under the house. Unless your wolf ate them.”

“Ha ha and ha,” I said, even though it was possible. I left the food out for them. “Has Pal been around?”

“Not since you left. Don’t you want to ask me how I’ve been?”

I looked at the man in front of me. Even tired and rumpled, he was fabulous. “Besides being angry with me, how are you?”

“The deal with Vidalia is going through. She’s going to cover things so we can take a real honeymoon for a month. Anywhere you want to go.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

I threw my arms around him and kissed him, wishing I didn’t feel so tainted. “Thank you, Oswald. You are wonderful and good and I love you.”

He pushed me back so he could look at me, and I saw that he was still upset with me. “When I come back, we’re expanding the business. Since you’re declaring your independence, I’m going to declare mine, too. I’d like to work as much as I need to, without getting grief from you.”

Be careful what you wish for…“All right, but can we do something-make a fresh start? Let’s not have any more surprises. Let’s not try to change each other, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oswald, I went to Bar None yesterday.”

He looked uncomfortable. “I was going to tell you about it.”

“It’s fine, but you’ve got to realize that I’m more creeped out by the family secrets than by-well, I’m still creeped out by a bar with people on the menu, but you’ve got to stop trying to protect me. It just puts me in the position of looking stupid.”

“It’s difficult not to keep secrets after a lifetime of hiding who you are.”

“Oswald, there’s nothing you could do or say that would make me love you less,” I said. “Now when am I going to meet Vidalia?”

“Soon. You’ll like her even though she’s serious. She’s got killer recommendations and incredible empathy for those who want to transform themselves.”

For some reason I thought of Don Pedro’s dream of me as a pretty bat and I smiled. “I think the desire to transform oneself is universal. Ask Vidalia when she can make it to dinner.”

He brushed my hair back from my face. “I’m going to run to the clinic for a few consults. I can reschedule them if you like.”

“Do what you have to do.”

“I’ll be home later. Love you.”

“Me, too.”

I did love him. He was a kind man, a good man, a man who deserved someone better than me.

We’d get married and I’d adjust to his career drive and he’d adjust to my more meandering writing efforts. We’d be happy here with Edna in the cottage and Sam and Winnie visiting. His parents and I would establish a truce, and I’d find another literary agent and prove to Oswald that writing was a legitimate vocation. If Pal came back, I’d adopt him officially, get a license and shots for him, and have him neutered.

I would be faithful to Oswald for as long as I lived. I would be worthy of his love.

After Oswald left, I still felt amped up. I went through my mail and found the shipment from the Womyn’s Sexual Health Collective. I left the fuzzy pink handcuffs on Oswald’s desk in his study and hid the other items for our wedding night.

Then I changed into my jeans and drove to the nursery. Joseph was busy helping a few customers, so I explored the row of annuals and waited. When he came out, he said, “So, peaches, where’ve you been?”

“Went to the City to finish a few projects. How’s business?”

“I could still use some help. Any chance you’d be interested in a few hours for the next week?”

“We’ve got a guest coming, but if you don’t mind me working around that, I can help out.”

He didn’t, and I started my duties by arranging a display of plants to tantalize customers. I enjoyed arranging the plants as an example of ways to use foliage for texture and color and how flowers could be used to accent structure.

While I worked I wondered if I should have thrown myself at Oswald’s feet, confessed, and begged for forgiveness. Something was wrong with me, however, and though I knew that I had done something wrong, wrong, wrong, I didn’t regret my night with Ian. I told myself that Oswald would benefit from my indiscretion when I gave him what he most wanted, my blood.

When I finished the displays, I went into the small office at one side of the retail shop and made a mock-up of the descriptive placards that could be used to help customers. I’d turned on the radio and was listening to salsa when Joseph came into the office.

“I just closed up,” he said. “What have you got there?”

“It’s a sample of a sign that you can use for lesser known varieties. I’ll add in growing requirements and suggestions so people will know how to use them in their garden. The right plant for the right place and all that. People buy more if they have information and a photo of the mature plant.”

“Good idea,” he said. He watched me as I stapled the label to a stake and then put the stake in a one-gallon tricolor abelia. “I wish I knew how to dance.”

“Interesting non sequitur,” I said. “Everyone can dance.”

“I mean partner dance. I want to take the princess out when she comes back, but I don’t know how to dance to this.”

I put down the plant and said, “I’ll teach you and I won’t even charge for it.”

I cranked up the volume and we went to the shop, where there was a clear area in front of the counter. I taught him to dance the way that Mercedes had taught me. First we listened to the music until Joseph was able to hear the two-measure phrases and clap on the beat, and then I guided him in the basic moves. He stepped on my feet a few times, but otherwise he moved well for a big guy. “You’re not half bad,” I said.

“That’s what all the girls say.”

“I bet they say more than that. Stop bopping your head to the music. It isn’t suave. Half of salsa is looking as if you want to ravish your partner on the dance floor.”

He turned his blue eyes to mine and pulled me closer. “Like this?”

I felt my temperature rising. “You’re a natural.”

Thirty minutes later, Joseph was able to move comfortably across the floor and turn me without hurling me into the rack of seed packets.

He tried to dip me, and I was bent backward laughing when we heard a loud crack and a windowpane shattered. My city instincts took over, and I twisted and pulled Joseph down to the floor with me.

“What was that?” he said, trying to stand.

I yanked him down again. “Stay here.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. We waited a long minute before getting up to inspect the broken window. A small rock lay with the shattered glass.

“I thought it might be a gunshot,” I said.

He unlocked the front door and went outside, with me right behind. “Probably some kid.” He looked around, but we were the only ones on the street. Then he gazed at me. “You’re real strong for someone your size, pookie.”

“I eat my vegetables.”

“I mean, real strong. I saw you moving around those trees in fifteen-gallons. You lifted them like nothing.”

“I’m kind of a freak that way.”

He looked amused. “That’s okay. I’m kind of a freak, too. I mean, not in a sexual way, although I am willing to-”

“No need to explain!” I said, not wanting to know the details of his relationship with Cornelia. “Sorry that this happened. This town is usually so safe. I hope it’s not because you’re new.”

“Kids are kids,” he said looking upward.

I followed his gaze to the branches of an old pine. The branches rustled slightly in the light breeze. The lowest branches of the tree were easily fifteen feet up. “No one climbed that. Come on, I’ll help you clean up.”

I swept up the glass while he broke apart a pallet so he could board up the window. A glass sliver sliced my finger and I hid it behind my back so Joseph wouldn’t see the skin heal itself. He was noticing too much already.

As I left, Joseph hugged me good-bye and said, “Be careful.”

It seemed an odd way of saying good night. “The town really is very safe. You’ve got nothing to worry about here.”

“So says the girl with the locked gate at the drive to her ranch.”

“It’s not my ranch, and the gate’s locked so no one opens it and lets the horses loose. I feel so safe I sleep with my window open every night.” I didn’t mention that no one could get in the jammed window.

I picked up a sandwich at the deli-eggplant and red pepper on focaccia-and mentioned to the owner that someone had broken the nursery window. She hadn’t heard of any similar incidents, but word would get out. People would be watching for a rock-throwing miscreant.

Back at the ranch, I ate my sandwich outside on the terrace with a chicken blood spritzer. This was usually the time we’d all sit here and watch the sunset, but everyone was gone. I sipped the drink and realized the chicken blood had gone off. I set it down and gazed at the fields and the mountains beyond.

I wished I had someone I could confide in. I had done something awful, so why didn’t I feel awful? It was the blood. The blood had changed me. If I kept going this way, I’d soon feel comfortable slashing people right and left, taking on a bevy of thralls. Possibly hot, buff thralls who slavishly fulfilled my every sick vampire whim.

When you’re faced with evidence of life’s perversity or your own, sometimes it’s best to just go to bed.

The next day I was up early and already out in the garden, pulling up all the little weeds that had rooted in my absence. Oswald came by on his way to his car, looking more cheerful than he’d been yesterday. “Thanks for the present,” he said with a grin. “Although pink isn’t my color.”

“They’re for our wedding night-if you want to wait that long.”

“I’d like to keep my agreement with the Council, and who knows, maybe the situation can still be salvaged.”

“Your hope springs eternal.”

“I’ve got another thing that springs, too,” he said.

We were laughing and I was reaching under the branches of a hydrangea when I noticed an odd little mound of dirt. “I hope these cats aren’t using my garden as a litter box,” I said. I used my trowel to inspect the mound.

“They’re cats. Kiss me good-bye, but don’t get me muddy.”

Something glinted in the dirt. I picked it up and shook off the dirt. It was my engagement ring.

I glanced up at Oswald.

“I told you you’d misplaced it,” he said.

“I didn’t! I’d never leave it lying in the dirt! I left it on my bathroom counter.”

“Milagro.”

“Oswald.”

“How else would it get there? It’s right outside your window.”