Bite. Part 10

"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 d.a.m.n 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. Embarra.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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-b.u.mping. 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, n.o.body 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 s.h.i.+fted 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 una.s.suming, 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-

"Really, that's charming," Marjorie said. Her smirk had widened until she looked like a gray-haired jack-o'-lantern. "If you get tired of this one, Sophie darling, I do hope-"

"You want to step outside and talk about it some more?" he interrupted.

"Liam!" Sophie nearly shrieked.

"What? I'm a feminist. 'Sides, she's probably got six hundred years on me."

"Eight hundred," Marjorie said dryly.

"Anyways, I'm an equal opportunity a.s.s-kicker. n.o.body talks to me that way. I might be a n.o.body from some small town, but I'm not...you know. A n.o.body."

Sophie fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Meanwhile, Marjorie's brow wrinkled as she digested that, and then she smiled, quite naturally. "I don't want to step outside with you. And I apologize if I offended you. I'm just used to things being...a certain way."

"Yes, well, just a simple misunderstanding, we must be going now," Sophie said, almost babbled, seizing Liam's arm so hard he winced. "Thank you for the information."

"You're so welcome." She shook Liam's hand. "So nice to meet you. Please stop by anytime. The library is not restricted to the undead." She said this with such total sincerity, Sophie almost believed her.

"Yeah, well. Guess I got a little hot under the collar."

"Yes, you did." Marjorie's eyes were veiled, and a smoky gray. "It was quite...interesting. As I said. Stop by anytime."

"Say, anybody ever tell you, you're kind of cute? I-ow!"

"Good-bye," Sophie called, and practically dragged him out by the hair.

S OPHIE was still crabbing away at him while they were going up the sidewalk. The gist of it was "Never pick fights with vampires," like any fool didn't know that. But there was a big difference between keeping your head down and letting someone pull it off and hand it to you. Maybe French people didn't get that.

"...so unbelievably arrogant, so completely dangerous..."

He let her sweet, accented b.i.t.c.hing fade out as he stared around at the place. Summit Avenue in St. Paul was pretty famous for big digs, but this! Every mansion on the street was nicer than the last, and the one they were standing in front of was the nicest of all. It was humongous, like something out of an old movie, a ma.s.sive white structure with black shutters. It didn't feel evil, though Sophie told him the queen of the vampires lived there.

"I guess we should go knock," Sophie said timidly, which startled the h.e.l.l out of him. He didn't think she was afraid of anything. Come to think of it, she'd been very deferential to the librarian, too. Maybe she just wasn't used to being around her own kind. Maybe she'd moved to Embarra.s.s for more than a fresh start. "Yes. Let's do that. We'll knock."

"Okeydokey," he agreed.

As they stepped up to the gigantic, wraparound porch, the front door suddenly opened and a good-looking young man in his mid-twenties came out. He was wearing green scrubs and had a hospital ID around his neck with a terrible picture on it. His hair was dark and cut very short, and his green eyes were clear and friendly.

"Hi there," he said, jingling his car keys. "Come to visit? Go on in. I'd stay and, you know, do the polite intros, but I'm late and you're not here to see me anyway. Right? Right. So, 'bye."

He hurried down the steps, throwing a distracted wave over his shoulder, then disappeared around the corner toward the detached garage. They watched him go, bemused, then Sophie turned and looked back up at the house.

"We can just...go in?"

"Guess so," Liam replied and opened the front door. After seeing the outside of the house, he was a little more prepared for the beauty and opulence of the foyer. He could hear voices coming from a large room on their right, and turned in that direction. Sophie clutched his arm, pulling him back. "Sophie, what is with you?"

She was chewing on her lower lip so hard, he expected to see it start bleeding. If she could bleed. "It's just...I met Nostro. And he was horrible. Horrible. And if she beat him.... But we have to bring this to her," she added, seeming to straighten with remembered pride. "It's our-my-responsibility."

"Right," he said. "Calm down, ease up. You look great, don't worry about it." And she did. Her glossy brown hair was piled up on top of her head, being held in place by the miracle of a single hair clip. She was wearing a dark red suit, light-colored stockings, and black shoes. She was pale, but then, she was always pale. He thought she looked like a million bucks. In fact, as he'd watched her pull up her stockings in their hotel room (he didn't know gals even wore stockings and garter belts anymore), he'd been unable to resist jumping her bones again, and they'd had a wonderful time rolling around on the floor.

She hadn't bitten him that time, politely explaining afterward that she was still satisfied from the night before. He knew she was lying; he could tell by the way her gaze kept s.h.i.+fting from his eyes to the bruise forming on his neck. But he didn't push it, figuring she had other things on her mind.

"You look nice, too," she told him, which was a laugh, because he was wearing jeans (clean, at least) and an old blue flannel s.h.i.+rt (also clean). Well, he didn't think the big shot queen would much care what he was wearing.

He gripped Sophie's hand, surprised as always by its pleasant coolness, and practically pulled her into the next room.