Sex And The Single Vampire Part 10

"I admit nothing. If there is a sympathetic connection between us, it is nothing of my doing."

I looked at him suspiciously. He looked me dead in the eye. I couldn't see any signs that he was lying, and I'm a pretty good judge of that. "Well, okay," I said grudgingly. "But you just make sure you stay out of my mind unless I invite you in!"

His thumb commenced back-of-hand rubbing. Three more people trooped down the aisle, but judging from their matching black T-s.h.i.+rts, they were all ARMPITs.

"You have to explain a few more things to me, too. For one, I don't understand why people interested in proving the existence of ghosts would keep a vampire prisoner. I mean, it's like apples and oranges."

"You are operating under the a.s.sumption that the goals of the trust are as Guarda stated. In reality, I believe it has a much more sinister purpose."

"Really? What would that be?" I asked.

"Allegra Telford? You have been chosen. Would you come to the stage, please? Steve Ricks, you have been chosen; please come to the stage. Arundel Roget, please come to the stage."

The list of people called to the stage continued as the miniskirted woman trotted up to Christian for a bit of praise and to shoo me toward the stage. I half expected her to beg to be petted, then decided that was too catty a comment for even me to be thinking, and surrept.i.tiously sketched a protection ward on her as penance.

Christian stood to let me pa.s.s, pressing my hand in a manner that more gave strength than asked for help. I gave in and squeezed his in return, more than a little rea.s.sured by the warm solidness of his presence.

I shook off the odd sense of reliability that his touch had inspired, and followed the miniskirt to the stage, where I was handed a piece of colored chalk.

"No, thanks, I have my own," I said, pulling out the chalk that, with the dead man's ash, I'd made a habit of keeping on me while I was in a city filled to the brim with historic sites, and even more historic ghosts.

I was pointed to a chair. I walked across the stage, neck-p.r.i.c.klingly aware that someone was watching me intently. I glanced to the side and saw that Guarda had me in her sights as she spoke to one of her flunkies. I gave her a weak little grin and took my seat. A short, balding man with a serious perspiration problem took the seat to my left, while a young, c.o.c.ky woman with a thick cap of curly blond hair sat on my right.

"I'm Diane," she said, introducing herself. I shook her hand, told her my name, and turned to the man on my left.

"Peter Dunwich." He had a soggy hand, but I managed not to let him see me wipe it off on my pants. I fervently hoped Guarda wasn't the type who liked to form circles made with physical contact between the partic.i.p.ants. Holding Peter's hand did not promise to be a pleasant experience.

Guarda and the tall, olive-skinned man she'd introduced as Eduardo joined the table. The lights clicked off in the theater, leaving only the one spotlight on us.

"Showtime," I murmured, then took a deep breath and focused my attention on calming myself and preparing for the ritual of Summoning.

Chapter Eight.

Guarda looked around the table slowly, eyeing each of us intently before she spoke. I blessed my dark gla.s.ses as she studied me, since they allowed me to present an unintimidated and tranquil expression.

At last she clasped her hands in front of her and addressed the table, her voice picked up by one of the six microphones scattered around the table. Lights clicked on as three women and a man in ARMPIT T-s.h.i.+rts fired up their digital video cameras, all trained on us. "As you probably know, we chose this building because of its unusual spiritual activity. There have been at least six separate ent.i.ties identified here. Three have already been Summoned. Three remain. Usually we begin the circle by clasping hands and combining our power to bring forth any spirits who might be residing in this building, but as we have two experienced Summoners with us to-night, I believe we will instead work individually. We will start with a supplication to the spirits. If you all will please place your hands flat on the table, your fingers touching those of the person on either side of you, we will begin."

I've always thought the supplication was a bit of nonsense, a silly, showy bit of fluff that impresses the uninformed, but serves no real purpose to Summoners. Still, it was better to just have the tip of my little finger touching Peter's rather than having to hold his entire hand, so I spread my hands out in front of me, joining them with Peter's and Diane's. Guarda went through the supplication while I tried to get a feel for the building we were in, opening myself up to any of the three spirits who remained, I caught a faint impression of one very close, in the theater itself, but no others. I tried to focus on the spirit, but couldn't do more than pinpoint the location to a small room behind the stage.

"As Allegra and Steve are the experienced Summoners, perhaps they would care to take the first circles, and allow the rest of us to watch and learn from them."

It was an order, not a question, with Guarda's pale blue eyes resting on me in something very like a challenge. An odd wave of hostility rose in me in response, an emotion I quickly squelched. There's no room for any negative thoughts when you are trying to Summon a ghost.

Steve, a young man in a black turtleneck and pants who in no way came close to achieving the das.h.i.+ng figure that Christian had made wearing a similar outfit the previous evening, chose to make his circle right there at the table. I was uncomfortable being the focus of so much attention, so I walked over to the dimly lit far side of the stage until I found a spot I liked. I sat down, cleared my mind, ignored the couple of volunteers and two of the camerapeople who'd followed me, and, using my piece of chalk, made a circle.

The actual Summoning procedure was the same as the other times I'd performed it, but this time I had barely spoken the words over the ash when the air in the circle started to thicken and move in an agitated way. I waited, my mind focused on the spirit I'd felt in the back room, willing it to come forward. The s.h.i.+mmering started to die away.

"Oooh," someone directly behind me breathed in disappointment. She was quickly shushed, but the damage had been done. My concentration was broken. I rubbed out a bit of the chalk, breaking the circle, and looked over to where Guarda sat at the table.

"I'm going to give this another shot. I don't need to have absolute silence, but I'd appreciate it if everyone kept from breathing down my neck."

A small woman with a birthmark on her forehead made a grimace. "I'm terribly sorry. It was so exciting there for a minute, I thought you were going to do it. I promise I'll be quiet."

I smiled at her, then glanced out at the audience, but couldn't see anything between the combination of the darkened house and my gla.s.ses. I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, drew the circle, made the wards, and intoned the words over the ash.

Bits of it drifted on the currents of air on the stage, some floating to land on a man who sat on the other side of my circle, other bits floating toward me (it always seemed to float straight for my nose). The air started s.h.i.+mmering again, thickening and twisting around itself as if it was trying to form. Suddenly my nose twitched and I sneezed. Twice.

"Wooo-hooo!" The birthmarked woman leaped up and shouted, pointing at my circle. I stared up, stunned by what I saw. Standing in the circle was not one, but two ghosts. One was a small, unhappy-looking young man in black breeches and a dirty cream-colored s.h.i.+rt with a black coat cut in eighteenth-century fas.h.i.+on, wearing a dingy powdered wig; the other was a really ugly old white-haired woman, her face crumpled up like an ancient apple gone bad. She had on a tight, s.h.i.+ny black floor-length dress and ap.r.o.n that emphasized every bulge and protuberance, and there were a lot of protuberances.

"Glory hallelujah," I said softly.

"Amen," someone said behind me. I stood and looked at my ghosts. Two! I'd Summoned two! By... sneezing?

"This is amazing, absolutely amazing," Guarda said as she hurried over to my side, walking around the circle as she examined the ghosts. "I have never seen two spirits Summoned at once. I have never even heard of such a feat! This will go down as a momentous day in the history of psychical studies!"

I rubbed my nose, feeling it tickle again. There was no need to show off and Summon a third spirit.

"You must ground them quickly, so we might take readings and ask them questions." Eduardo pushed his way past a couple of people and eyed the ghosts critically. I got a bit annoyed at that. They were my ghosts; I wasn't going to put them on display for anyone. I didn't mind people taking a few readings, but I was not going to have them treated like freaks at a freak show. I'd Release them just as soon as the readings were taken.

Somewhat reluctantly I grounded them. As soon as the last word left my lips, the old woman started in with a harangue, snaking her finger at me and complaining in an annoyingly scratchy voice.

"What's she saying?" I asked Peter, standing next to me.

He scratched his bald spot. "I'm not sure. I think it's Welsh."

"Welsh? Whatever would a Welshwoman be doing in this building? How old is it, anyway?"

"Approximately two hundred and fifty years old," Eduardo answered as he scooped his hand through the sour old woman. She turned on him and gave him the rough side of her tongue. Although she had no physical presence, just her appearance and demeanor were enough to make him back up a couple of steps.

I stifled a snicker.

"What is your name?" Guarda asked the young man's spirit. I looked closer at him. His face was marked by pimples, and his clothes had a hand-me-down look about them. His powdered wig, once probably white but now stained yellow and rust with age and who knew what, didn't quite fit his head, listing to the left and leaving a swatch of black hair uncovered.

The ghost looked at Guarda with a surly frown and shoved his hands in his breeches pockets. "Don't 'ave to answer."

"Now look here, you-"

"That's right," I interrupted Eduardo and smiled at the ghost. I judged him to be about fifteen. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. I'm here to help you, to Release you from your bondage and send you on. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He stuck out his lip. "Mebbe. Mebbe not. Who're you lot?"

I introduced the few people I knew names for, and explained that we'd like to take a few readings, and then would be happy to send both him and the old woman on.

"A moment of your time, if you please, Allegra," Guarda said as she pulled me aside, away from the cameras. "This is a very exciting and important moment in the history of paranormal research. While I applaud your intention to Release the spirits to their reward, I feel that much good can come of a continuing, ongoing study of them. Just think of the research grants that will be available to us if we are able to show sponsors actual proof of spirit ent.i.ties!"

"But at what cost to the ghosts themselves?" I asked. "As a Summoner, it is my job to Release them just as soon as adequate readings have been taken. Keeping them hanging around indefinitely while a bunch of corporate sponsors stare at them is hardly my idea of a worthy reason not to allow them to move on."

"Think of the research you and others will be able to do," Guarda said smoothly. "Based on your expertise, I am most happy to offer you a position on the trust team. There is a generous honorarium, of course, and you will find yourself working with the keenest minds in paranormal research. In addition, think of the fame you'll achieve as you write definitive paper after paper on every aspect of the spirits' life after death. You'll be famous both in and out of paranormal circles! There will be books, television shows, lecture tours, sponsors.h.i.+ps-all of that will be yours, and for only the highest and purest of reasons: research. You can see why it is more important that we resist our natural inclination to Release the spirits, and instead use this unique opportunity to gain as much knowledge as we can from them."

"Um," I said, not wanting her to realize that with every oily word she spoke, I became more and more sure something was extremely rotten in Denmark. I slipped my hand into my pocket and felt around for what I had in there that could be used as a keeper. There were only a few coins, and somehow I had a hard time imagining binding a spirit to a coin. A couple more bobbles would have to be sacrificed.

The question was how I was going to create two keepers without someone noticing what I was doing.

"I knew you would see reason on this," Guarda said suavely as she turned back to the ghosts. The old woman had stomped away and plumped herself down in a chair, and was glaring at everyone. The young man was staring openly at one of the ARMPITs who had a spiky hairdo, a pierced eyebrow, and tattoos covering both forearms.

"Just a second-what happened to the other three ghosts that were Summoned? Are they being studied now, too?"

Guarda smiled and patted me on the hand. "One is, yes. The other two, unfortunately, were lost to us."

"Lost to you?" The only way a Summoned spirit could be freed was if the Summoner Released them... or if the Summoner died. "Lost how?"

"It was an unfortunate accident; it won't happen again, I can a.s.sure you," she answered before turning back to the circle. "And now, please, everyone, if you would stay back, the trust members will take some preliminary readings."

"I haven't completed my circle," the Summoner named Steve whined.

"Yes, yes, you must do that, there is one spirit left unaccounted for," Eduardo said.

I decided I needed a distraction to make the keepers, but before I could do that, I had to find out my ghosts' names. Names, as I've mentioned, have power, and I didn't blame them for not wanting to let everyone know their names. As I was their Summoner, however, they were obligated to answer any questions I put to them. I moved back until I was in the darkest part of the stage (several of the stagelights had been turned on as soon as my ghosts appeared) and locked my eyes on the old woman. I focused on her, opening a tiny part of my mind to her and asked softly, "What is your name?"

Her head turned to look over to where I was standing. Her mouth moved. "Alis Owens."

Guarda looked over to her with a frown. I crossed my fingers that she hadn't heard what the old woman had said.

I looked at the teenage ghost, focused, waited until he turned his back on one of the camerapeople who'd rudely shoved her camera in his face, and asked my question.

"Jem Hopkins."

Guarda heard him; I'm sure she did. She oiled over to Eduardo and tipped her head toward him, speaking urgently and shooting occasional glances my way.

Rats. I'd have to act quickly, before it was too late. I moved out to the front of the stage, then pushed a hand away from me and swayed, moaning soft little moans and trying my best to look like someone who was about to pa.s.s out.

"Christian?" I mumbled pitifully. Several of the volunteers turned toward me, but Christian could move very fast when he wanted to. He was there in an instant, one arm draped around my back to support me. I swayed into his chest.

"I just feel a bit faint. All that power used Summoning," I said weakly into his neck, thoroughly enjoying being held against his body. I couldn't help breathing in the faint spicy scent that clung to him, a scent that seemed to permeate me and sink into my blood.

Christian repeated my words to the people who had come to see what was wrong with me. Someone pulled a chair over for me, but I shook my head and remained clinging to Christian. He brushed his lips against my forehead.

What is it you want, mal valeenik?

I stiffened in his arms as I quickly checked the guards on my mind. They were all in place, all solid and firmly set up against intruder, and yet Christian had managed to slip by them and speak to me.

I ground my teeth for a moment before deciding there was nothing to be done at the moment about the breach in my mental security. I'd have a little chat with Christian later. Right now...

I need you to distract them while I make keepers, I said without lowering my guards, wondering if he would hear me.

It will be my pleasure, he answered with a warm chuckle.

A sudden loud crash at the back of the theater made everyone, including me (but excluding Christian), jump.

"You could have warned me," I grumbled to him.

"Poltergeist!" someone shouted, and a half dozen people went running for the back regions of the theater. Christian turned us so his body was s.h.i.+elding me from the remaining people's view, allowing me to tug two more bobbles off my sweater and covertly turn them into keepers.

I'm going to faint, I thought at Christian. Lack of consciousness is the only way I could lose the spirits and still remain alive. I'd appreciate it if you could catch me in a suitably dramatic manner, and raise a fuss about me doing any more Summoning tonight.

I could hear the amus.e.m.e.nt in his words. Can it be that you will now find it useful to have a domineering and forceful man in your life? One who will give orders and demand everyone follow them?

"There's nothing back there!" one of the ARMPITs appeared at the stage and announced with a dramatic wave of his arm. "Nothing at all! It's absolutely clean!"

I used that moment when everyone's attention was on him to bind Alis's and Jem's spirits to my keepers, quickly tucking them away in my pants pocket.

Listen, bucko, you're in enough trouble for being able to get past my guards. If I were you, I'd just do as you're asked and keep the wisecracking to a minimum. Now catch me; I'm going to swoon.

I took a few tottering steps away from Christian, put the back of my hand to my forehead in the best fainting-woman manner, blinked rapidly, swayed, and let myself fall forward. Strong arms caught me before I hit the floor, cradling me to an equally strong chest as Christian's eloquent voice spoke over my head, thick with concern and worry. "Allegra has fainted! It must be the stress of the double Summoning. Quickly, does anyone have water?"

This is ridiculous.

You wished me to be forceful and demanding. I simply complied with your wishes.

I did not wish for you to insist on bringing me to your house. Nor did I wish for you to tell everyone that c.o.c.k-and-bull story about us being engaged. What on earth were you thinking?

Guarda White was being obstinate about releasing her most promising team member to a mere acquaintance. I felt a more intimate relations.h.i.+p between the two of us would ensure that you remained in my protection.

Yeah, right. Why do I have the feeling you're enjoying all this?

His laughter echoed through my mind. I have a beautiful woman in my arms, and am taking her back to my home, where she and I will be alone and able to indulge whatever fantasies we choose. What is there not to enjoy?

I had a horrible sense of control slipping through my fingers, and did a double check of all the protective barriers I'd set up to keep my mind from being invaded. Everything looked solid.

You know I would never do anything to harm you.

"I believe she is coming around. She's making odd snorting noises. Perhaps if you removed her gla.s.ses, Mr. Dante, she would be more comfortable."

"Allegra has sensitive eyes. Bright lights make her uncomfortable. She will be more comfortable with them on."

Christian's breath teased my ear. I turned my head into his neck briefly. I don't know what sort of cologne you wear, but it has my full approval.

His laughter filled my mind again.

"Yes, she's definitely coming around. She's smiling. Can you see?"