Vampire, Interrupted (20 page)

“I wish I knew,” Julius muttered.

“What are—?”

“Leave,” Julius interrupted wearily, and then slid into the immortal’s mind to make sure he did so. He needed time to think without Tiny’s worried and angry questions, so he sent him to his bed to remain there for the rest of the night. Julius knew the man would just ask his questions again in the morning, but hoped by then he’d have answers to offer him, or at least a good lie.

Sighing as the door closed behind the mortal, Julius retrieved a fresh bag and switched it for the empty one, then waited patiently as Marguerite’s body drew it in. She didn’t look quite as pale as she had been, more the color of parchment than porcelain now. She would need another three or four bags, but should be okay for a little bit after that, he thought. Of course, the healing would probably continue through the night. Even after the wound itself was no longer visible, the body would be busy repairing the internal damage and she’d need two or three more bags of blood before dawn, and then again when she awoke before she would be back to normal.

“The doors and windows are locked and there’s no
one in the house but us,” Marcus announced as he and Christian returned to the room.

Julius nodded as he switched bags again.

“This was the same attacker as at the hotel, wasn’t it?” Christian asked quietly, moving around the bed to sit on the other side and peer down at Marguerite.

“I’m pretty sure it was, yes,” Julius admitted.

Christian nodded. “And you still think my mother was behind it?”

“Her people most certainly,” he answered and frowned at the guilt that swept over his son’s face. “It is not your fault, Christian. Had I handled the matter differently at the time, none of this would have happened.”

“What do we do now?” Marcus asked quietly, changing the topic. “Stay here and wait for Martine Argeneau to return from London?”

Julius hesitated, his gaze shifting to Marguerite. He wanted to show her more of York in the hope that she might remember something, anything of the past that she seemed to be missing from her memory, but wouldn’t risk her being attacked again to do so. Next time, they might not be lucky enough to escape with her life.

“What time is it?” he asked suddenly rather than answer.

“Almost one o’clock,” Christian answered. “There won’t be any trains running now.”

“No,” Julius agreed. He was silent for a moment, and then said, “We’ll discuss it tomorrow when we wake up. Marguerite can have an opinion then as well.”

“I suspect she’ll want to stay,” Christian said. “So
long as we don’t let her out of our sight she should be safe enough. Whoever it is who’s attacking her seems to try to get to her when she’s away from us.”

When Julius glanced at him in question, he shrugged and said, “Otherwise why risk such a public attack? A public washroom with mortals in the room? The only benefit was that there were no other immortals in the immediate vicinity to help fend him off. That’s probably the furthest you’ve been from her since we arrived.”

“He’s right,” Marcus commented. “The man obviously followed us from London, and you two were out walking around the first night. Why didn’t he attack then? He’s avoiding attacking her when there are other immortals nearby.”

“So if we keep her close, she should be safe.” Julius’s gaze slid back to Marguerite. If that were the case, he wouldn’t leave her side for an instant until all of this was resolved. It wouldn’t be a hardship. The hardship would be not trying to keep her in bed…naked for the duration.

Marguerite stirred as Julius took away the last empty bag, her eyes blinking open. Her gaze slid over the three of them with confusion, and then her memory of the attack apparently returned and she glanced down at herself.

“It’s all right,” Julius said. “You’re safe now and almost completely healed.”

Giving a slight nod, she raised her eyes to his. “Did you—?”

“He got away,” Julius interrupted quietly.

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“No,” he assured her and she closed her eyes with
a little sigh and seemed to drop back off into a healing sleep.

Julius watched her for a minute, and then glanced at the other two men. “You may as well take the other two coolers of blood back to wherever you got them. There are still a couple bags in here and more is being delivered just before dawn.”

Nodding, Marcus lifted the cooler he’d set on the foot of the bed, and Christian stood and walked around to the dresser to retrieve the one he’d carried in.

“Take a key and be sure to lock up behind you,” he ordered as they left the room.

When they assured him they would and pulled the door closed, Julius stood up and started to undo the buttons of his shirt, grimacing when he realized that the cloth was sticky with blood and clinging to his chest. He glanced down at Marguerite, and then turned away. The blood had soaked into his pants as well as his top and he’d need to shower before slipping into bed next to her.

Julius left the bedroom and bathroom doors open, glancing through to Marguerite every few seconds as he turned on the shower and quickly stripped off his tacky clothes.

Unwilling to leave her alone for longer than necessary, he took the fastest shower he could manage, leaping under the cascade of water, splashing water on his chest, tugging the shower curtain aside to lean out and peer into the bedroom at Marguerite, then ducking back under the water long enough to soap up before sticking his head out to check on her again. The next duck under the water was his last and it was just long enough to wash away the soap, then he
was out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist as he headed back into the bedroom.

Julius pushed the door closed behind him, and dried himself as he walked to the bed. He then dropped the towel and pulled back the sheet and blanket to slide into bed next to her.

Marguerite opened her eyes the moment she felt the bed depress beside her. She hadn’t really fallen back to sleep, she just hadn’t felt like talking while the other two men were there. She’d opened her eyes after she’d heard the door close, but had seen Julius undoing his shirt and the sight of her own blood staining the white top had been rather distressing. Marguerite had quickly closed her eyes again and simply listened to his movements, but had opened them with surprise when she’d heard the shower turn on. Realizing he was washing away the blood, she’d closed her eyes once more and waited patiently for him to finish and return. Now, he was back.

“You’re awake,” Julius said, stilling in surprise when he saw that her eyes were open.

“Yes,” she offered him a smile.

Julius hesitated, his gaze concerned. “Do you want more blood?”

Marguerite shook her head. “Not right now, thank you.”

He smiled faintly at her prim words, but asked, “A drink then? Or food?”

Marguerite shook her head. Despite not having gotten the chance to have their meal, she wasn’t hungry. All she really wanted was for him to hold her close just then. She wanted his warmth and his strong arms around her to help her feel safe again.

Julius hesitated and she suspected he was searching his mind for something else he might offer, but apparently not coming up with anything, he finally lay down beside her, easing onto his back, careful not to jostle her. Marguerite waited until he was still, then rolled over and curled up against him, resting her head and arm on his chest.

“Don’t hurt yourself, you’re still healing,” Julius said with concern even as he slipped his arm out from under her to wrap it around her back.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s mostly healed I think,” she assured him snuggling into his chest.

They were silent for a minute, his fingers running lightly through her hair, her own toying with the hair on his chest, and then Julius suddenly asked, “Marguerite, will you tell me about your marriage to Jean Claude?”

She stiffened in his arms, her fingers stilling. Her marriage was not a topic Marguerite enjoyed thinking about, and while she’d revealed some of it to Tiny during the first three weeks here, it wasn’t something she wanted to share with Julius. Marguerite was afraid if she revealed the humiliating details of her marriage, it might affect how Julius saw her. He might lose respect for her or see her as weak, or a victim because of how Jean Claude had controlled her. He might even begin to look at her with the same disgust Jean Claude had.

No, she wouldn’t risk it, Marguerite would rather just leave her marriage as dead and buried as her husband was.

“Marguerite?” he queried softly.

Finally, she shook her head. “I would rather not.”

Julius was silent for a moment, then sighed and said, “Marguerite, in another time and another place I would have respected that wish. I realize now it would have been a mistake. It would have left me at a disadvantage when—if anything happened.”

“Anything like what?” she asked curiously.

Rather than answer, Julius seemed to change the subject, or at least shift it to the side. “Tell me about Jean Claude’s death.”

Marguerite breathed deeply, drawing in a great lungful of air. The question had taken her by surprise.

“I don’t ask out of mere curiosity, Marguerite. There is a reason for the question.”

When she tilted her head on his chest, to glance at him he stared solemnly back. Marguerite lowered her head again and began to pluck at the hair on his chest. “He died in a fire.”

“How?” he pressed and she frowned, knowing that to explain how he had died she had to explain at least some of their marriage.

“Please, trust me,” Julius said quietly.

Marguerite met his gaze, saw the pleading there and closed her own eyes on a sigh.

“Jean-Claude was…troubled,” she began, and then glanced up through her lashes to see Julius nod. Swallowing, she continued, “I think he secretly loathed himself for marrying me, for the weakness in doing so when we weren’t true lifemates.”

“You knew you weren’t true lifemates?” Julius interrupted quietly.

“Not at first. I knew nothing about immortals or…anything at the start. But I soon learned there was something wrong and that was what it was,”
Marguerite explained, and then said, “The first hundred or so years after we married weren’t so bad. He wasn’t cruel at least. He was just selfish and cold, indifferent to my feelings and needs. If he wished to go to a ball, or to travel here or there, I wasn’t allowed
not
to want to go. He would insist and if I refused he would slip into my mind and make me compliant.”

“I suppose it wasn’t just restricted to attending balls and things,” Julius said carefully. “Did he enforce your compliance in the bedroom too?”

Her expression must have been answer enough. Marguerite could feel the anger tightening his muscles. “It was just an occasional thing the first ten or twenty years. I was young and eager to please then, but…” She shrugged. “I grew up and became less so and the more I resisted, the more he took control, but there was no real cruelty. Just an indifferent determination for him to have his way no matter my thoughts or feelings.”

“What changed that?” Julius asked, and she could feel his tension increasing.

Marguerite shook her head against his chest with bewilderment. “I don’t know. It all followed our tour of Europe.”

“Your tour of Europe?” he asked and something in his voice made her look at him sharply, but his expression was unrevealing and he prompted, “When was that?”

“It was a long tour, more than twenty years. It started somewhere around 1470 or so and went on until 1491,” she admitted. “We left England and toured around Europe.”

“Tell me about that.”

The tension had entered his voice now, Marguerite noticed, but admitted, “It’s all rather vague to me, although I recall it was pleasant.”

“Pleasant?”

“Yes. I just remember having a good time. I know we visited country after country, city after city constantly moving, never really staying long enough anywhere to see anything.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I know it sounds silly to say that we spent twenty years of touring and not really seeing anything, but…” Marguerite shrugged against his side. “That’s how I recall it.”

Rather than seem confused by her words Julius nodded solemnly. “Go on.”

Sighing, she began to pluck at the hair of his chest again. “To this day I don’t know what happened to change things so suddenly. It just seemed like, overnight, Jean Claude became another person. He began to take to feeding off people who had imbibed too much, and people who had ingested drugs. He even hired servants who were alcoholics so that he could feed from them.” She shook her head. “And the more he fed from such people, the more cruel he became.”

Marguerite paused, and then admitted painfully, “And he couldn’t even seem to look at me anymore without loathing in his eyes. He wouldn’t allow me to leave the house alone, wouldn’t allow me to have friends. Jean Claude said I was to be a mother to his children, and that was all I was to do.” She shook her head with despair. “And yet for the longest time he refused me children.”

“Refused you children?” Julius asked softly.

Marguerite nodded. “I wanted to have another
child. Lucern was a little over one hundred and I began to ache to hold a child in my arms again.” She paused suddenly and realized, “In fact that too started directly after the European tour,” she admitted with a little sigh. “I guess it somehow changed both of us.”

“And you wanted a child,” Julius prompted.

Marguerite nodded. “It was more than want. I needed a child in my arms, they felt empty. I felt as if…” She stopped and shook her head, knowing how ridiculous it must sound.

“Tell me,” Julius said, and somehow she knew the answer was very important to him. The problem was, she didn’t know why.

After a hesitation, Marguerite admitted, “I felt as if I had lost a child. As if there was a child who should be there, but wasn’t. I yearned for a baby…So much so, I pestered him constantly.” Marguerite flushed as she admitted that she’d begged her husband to share his seed and get her with child. “I had never begged for anything before that. I had too much pride. But I did then.” She managed a smile and shrugged against him once more. “And eventually he did. It took a long time, but a hundred years later he came to me and Bastien was born.”