Sex and the Single Vampire (9 page)

I grounded the spirit and opened the circle. “Um … hello. I take it you’re the lady who died in the fire.”

She stretched and patted her hair. “Well, I don’t remember a fire, but I was staying in this room. Esme is my name, Esme Cartwright. And you are?”

“My name is Allie. Allegra,” I corrected, sliding a glance toward Christian. “This is Christian Dante.”

“It is the utmost pleasure to meet you, madam,” he said, bowing in the deliciously foreign way he had.

“Oh, my, a Dark One!” She tittered at Christian and made what I’d have called (if she hadn’t been dead more than fifty years) eyes at him. Then she turned back to me with a perky smile. “You have excellent taste my dear. He’s quite easy on the eyes.”

“Oh, he’s not mine,” I protested.

Christian wrapped one of his steely arms around me and hauled me up to his side. “We are trying to work out the exact nature of our relationship.”

“No, we’re not,” I said, elbowing his side until he released me. “There is no relationship and nothing to work out.”

“Oh, a lovers’ spat!” Esme said happily, clapping her hands. I glared at her. “I have several young friends, and all of them say I give the best advice. You must turn to me in your time of need, child.”

It was a battle to keep from rolling my eyes, but I won. Eventually. “Thank you, Mrs. Cartwright. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

“Esme, dear,” she gently corrected me. “First names are so much more convivial, don’t you think? And now you must tell me what I’m doing here, for the last thing I knew I’d just decided to take a long sleep after that horrible episode with the newlyweds who took umbrage when I popped in to offer them a bit of helpful advice.”

At last! The moment I’d been training for, the moment that I’d mentally rehearsed for long, long hours. I cleared my throat and ignored Christian’s disturbing nearness as best as possible. “I have called you forth to
further mankind’s knowledge of the life that is found after death. With your permission, I will take a few readings, ask you a few questions, and then it will be my pleasure to Release you and send you on to your next destination. If you feel you have any tasks left you would like accomplished before you move on, I will be happy to undertake them to the best of my abilities. Be aware, however, that you passed over more than fifty years ago, so the likelihood of my being able to contact loved ones is very slight.”

It was a lovely speech, it truly was, delivered from the heart, but Esme didn’t seem to hear much of it. The cat, evidently disturbed by the Summoning, emerged from under the chair. She took one look at it, then rushed over and scooped it up in her arms, squealing and kissing it and spinning around as she clasped the poor thing to her ample breast. “Woogums! Mummy’s widdle Woogums!”

“Hmm,” I said as I pulled out my notebook to make a notation. “Interesting. Ghosts Summoned at the same physical location can interact physically with each other.”

“Evidently,” Christian replied, a faint grimace on his lips as he watched Esme rain smacking kisses down on the cat’s head.

“What, haven’t you ever had a pet?” I asked.

“Several. They all died.”

I glanced up at him, struck once again by the pain that darkened his eyes. “What is it you want from me?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

A smile quirked his lips, lightening his eyes to a middling oak color. “Would salvation be too much to ask?”

I clamped down on the smile that wanted to answer his. “Probably.”

“I see. In that case, perhaps you will join me tomorrow evening? There is an exhibition that I think you might find interesting.”

“Woogie woogie Woogums! Did oo miss Mummy? Mummy missed her Woogums!”

“What sort of an exhibition?”

“Perhaps a better term would be demonstration. A local medium is hosting a series of Summonings, open to the public.”

I wondered how Christian knew about the psychic shindig, then figured he must have had an ear to the paranormal grapevine. “I heard about that. I suppose it might be interesting, although I’m at a loss as to why you want to take me there. After all, I’m not in the least bit feminine or submissive or docile, and of course, I have this great huge problem with my self-image.”

He took two steps forward and held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Little flames of desire licked down my neck at his touch. “You are also a very talented woman, intelligent if rather distant emotionally.”

The flames froze solid. I smacked his hand away, ignoring Esme’s horrified gasp of surprise. “You are just about the rudest man I’ve ever met. You’ve done nothing but insult me ever since you came here—uninvited, I might add—and now you have the balls to tell me I’m frigid?” I took a deep breath and pointed to the door. “Don’t let the door hit you in the butt as you go out.”

“Allie,” Esme the ghost shrieked. “Child, that is no way to speak to your man! Firm, yes, but never, ever demanding. It isn’t ladylike.”

Christian smiled at me—smirked, really, a knowing, full-of-himself smirk that made my hand itch to slap it off his face; then he made another one of those old-fashioned bows that would have looked ridiculous performed by any other man, but which fit him perfectly. “I shall call for you at eight of the clock.”

“Out!”
I snapped, stabbing my finger at the door.

“Esme, it was a distinct pleasure. I hope to see you again, but if Allegra determines what is wrong with her Release spell and I am unable to,
bon chance.”

“Oh, my! Christian, you really are the charmer, aren’t you? I’m sure I will be around for quite some time. I can see that Allie needs a guiding hand, a mother’s helpful advice.”

“Esme, you’re not my mother. And you are dead. Those are just two reasons why advice from you is not needed.”

Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes filled with ghostly tears.

“I hope you are pleased with yourself. You have made a spirit cry.”

I glared at Christian for a moment. “Weren’t you just leaving? Oh, Esme, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that … well, I have a mother. She’s very much alive, and she’s full of good advice, so although I appreciate your concern—”

The ghost sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, blowing her nose. I made a mental note to record the fact that ghosts’ noses got stuffy when they cried. “But you’re American! She must live in America, surely? You need a mother figure here, child. You obviously have a great deal to learn about men, and since I’ve had four husbands, I’m just the person to tell you what’s what. Now you run along, Christian,” she said, tucking her handkerchief away, a smile once again brightening her face. She made shooing motions toward him. “Allie and I have a great deal to talk about, and none of it is fit for a man’s ears.”

“Oh, Lord, what have I done?” I moaned softly to myself.

Christian’s amused smile turned into an out-and-out
grin. He inclined his head toward Esme. “You have my full permission to—how is it said?—whip her into shape.”

His words fell like shards of glass on tender flesh. I wondered if he had ever been whipped. I had. It wasn’t an expression I used lightly.

The smile faded off his face as his gaze shifted to me. “Allegra? Is something amiss?”

I could feel him testing the guards I’d sent on my mind, searching for any cracks that would allow him in. I forced down the pain that had risen at his words and stretched my lips into a smile. “Everything’s fine. Good night, Christian.”

He continued to stare at me for a minute, probing my mind gently, but my will was strong. Closing my mind to others was the first step in self-preservation that I’d learned. It was a hard lesson, but one that was instinctive to me now. He nodded abruptly, then turned and went out the door.

I closed it behind him, leaning against it as I blew out a whoosh of breath. I hadn’t realized just how he upset the balance of my mind until he’d left. I felt drained, unfinished, almost as if part of me had walked out the door with him.

“Fancies, sheer and utter fancies.” I shook my head at myself and straightened my shoulders. Disturbing influence or no, I had work to do. I would not let a handsome man with wicked eyes and seductive lips interfere. No matter how hard he tried to dominate me, I would remain in control. I kept my smile firmly attached as I turned to the waiting ghost.

“Just a word of advice, dear. Your smile should be representative of your inner beauty, of your natural gentleness. It should shine from within, and should warm the heart
of the one you’re smiling at, not make that person think of death’s-heads and grinning skeletons.”

I let the smile fizzle off into nothing. Sometimes I had to wonder if being a Summoner was really worth it.

“Dear, you are a young woman. You have a dashing young man. Why don’t you put your hair up in papers? It would do wonders for it.”

I ground my teeth and made note of Esme’s EMF reading.

“And your clothes—really, I understand that they’re comfortable, but you have your future to think of! What man will want to marry a woman who wears loose athletic trousers and baggy jumpers? You have a very nice figure, I’m sure. Don’t be afraid to show it off!”

The point of my pencil broke against the notebook. I threw it away with a muttered snarl and reached for a pen.

“And your posture—I realize this is a different age than when I was a girl, but my mother would have swooned if she’d seen me slouching as you do. Shoulders back, child, back straight, head high. A lady never sits like a lump.”

The pen gouged a hole in the paper. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. There were just a few more things to record; then I could send Esme on to her reward, leaving me in blissful quiet. Two hours of her nonstop, if well-meaning advice had just about worn my nerves raw.

“You know, I think if you tried a different sort of eyeliner, it might help tone down your eyes a wee bit. I realize there’s nothing you can do with them, but you do want to maximize what you have, in a minimal sort of way, if you know what I mean. A lady doesn’t look like a painted
trollop; she just looks … enhanced. Subtlety is the key with cosmetics.”

I picked up my digital camera and switched the settings to manual. “Could you hold … um … Mr. Woogums for a minute? I’d like to get a few pictures.”

“Photos! Why, of course, I’d be delighted. Come here, my little Woogy-woogy man.”

I focused, checked the flash settings (I’d found that flashes made ghosts all but invisible to the camera), and snapped a few shots.

“Now you must do one of my left side,” Esme said as she struck a dramatic pose in profile. “I’m told it’s my best side. You must cultivate your best side, dear. Always keep your man on that side, so he will have only the best of you to look at. And we must have a word about your eyebrows! Young ladies nowadays simply have no idea of the proper way to groom their eyebrows.”

“My eyebrows are just fine, thank you. Now how about a couple of shots of you next to the wall? I want to see if you show up better with a dark background.”

“Oh, I’m sure I do,” she said as she obligingly moved over to the wall, which was covered in dark blue silk. She struck a pose that reminded me of Hollywood starlets in the 1930s. “And as for your eyebrows—tsk, dear, tsk! You cannot mean to have them looking like great hairy caterpillars clinging to your face. Eyebrows are meant to be delicate little swoops that draw attention to the eye.”

I looked at her over the top of the camera, one great hairy caterpillar cocked in question.

“Yes, well, perhaps your eyes demand an eyebrow with a bit more substance, but they do need help. Lots and lots of help.”

“Mmm. Just a couple more shots and then I think I’ll be finished with you. I can Release you so you’ll be free to move on to the next level of existence.”

She held her smile until I lowered the camera, then shook her head, fat iron-gray curls bobbing madly as she walked over to me. “Oh, I couldn’t do that, dear. I’m not ready to move on yet.”

I made a note of the conditions of the pictures, camera settings, and day and time, then tucked the camera away in the bag. “Oh, right, you have some unfinished business. Well, I can’t guarantee I can fix it, but I’ll do my best. What do you need done?”

She smiled and reached out to pat my shoulder. My arm went numb. “Why, it’s you, dear. You are my unfinished business.”

I goggled at her. “Me?” I squeaked. “What do you mean, I’m your unfinished business? You didn’t even know me until I Summoned you!”

Her curls bobbed as she nodded. “Exactly. As soon as I saw you, I said to myself, ‘Esme, that young woman needs your help. This is why you were meant to stay in this room all those years.’ And I was right; you do need my help.”

I thought madly over everything I’d learned about Releasing a ghost. Was it possible to send one on if it didn’t wish to go?

“Poop,” I snarled, knowing full well the answer was no. It wasn’t possible to Release a ghost without its cooperation.

“Allie! Language! We are judged by the quality of our language. It behooves a lady to strip from her vocabulary any of those words deemed uncouth. Oaths are definitely a no-no. Gentlemen do not wish their wives to have a mouth like a sailor!”

I sat down in the chair with a half sob caught in my throat. “Esme, I know you think I need your help, and I appreciate your kindness in giving me such—”
unwanted … useless … dated
“
—helpful
advice, but I can honestly say
that I’m very happy in my life. I have everything I’ve ever wanted: a great job … well, great now that I have evidence of two successful Summonings … a nice apartment, a couple of friends—”

She tipped her head to the side. “And what of Christian?”

I tried to smile, but was just too tired to make the muscles of my mouth work properly. The lightening of the perpetual gray outside indicated that dawn had come. “Christian doesn’t fit into my life picture. He’s just an acquaintance. So you see, much as I’d like to keep you with me just for the pleasure of your company”—a little white lie never hurt anyone—”it would be greedy and selfish of me to keep you from the reward that waits for you.”