Much Ado About Vampires

“So, you’re Alec’s friend,” Pia said as both she and Kristoff examined me again.

“Was a friend,” I growled, “if he keeps up pulling this sort of stunt on me. Look, I’m sorry to have bothered you and interrupted your meeting. We’ll just be on our way.”

I started to turn from the door but stopped when Kristoff said, “We?”

You didn’t tell them we were coming, did you?

Why would I do that?

“Oh my god,” I said, mortified to the tips of my toes. “He didn’t tell you we were coming. I’m so sorry. I’ll yell at him later on your behalf, all right?”

“He who?” Pia asked, stopping me when I would have marched away to give a certain vampire a very large piece of my mind.

You are in so much trouble, buster!

I’m well aware of that. The Moravian Council is not going to be happy.

Not with them, with me! I could die of embarrassment! These people think I’m a pushy interloper! And I am! “Alec.”

“Alec is in the Akasha,” she said slowly, as if I were a nutball.

Great, and now they think I’m crazy, too! “No, he’s not. He’s right there.” I waved a hand toward the tree.

Pia moved out of the doorway to look, her hand shading her eyes against the sun before she gave a whoop of happiness and ran toward the tree.

“Er . . .” I looked from where Pia had flung herself on Alec, who was spinning her around in the shade, to the vampire standing very close behind me. Alec had told me a little of his history with Kristoff, including the fact that he was the one responsible for Kristoff being a vampire in the first place. “Your . . . um . . . Beloved seems to be happy to see him. I’m confused.”

“No more so than am I,” he said, his voice rich with an Italian accent. He pushed past me and strolled toward the tree, not running through the sunlight as I assumed he would. I stood in the doorway and watched as he and Alec sized each other up for a moment, then embraced in a bear hug that looked like it should have broken at least one rib.

OK, I guess I was wrong.

About many things, love, but I try not to point them out too frequently.

Stop being smug. I thought they were pissed! How come your friend isn’t affected by sunshine?

He is, but Dark Ones who are Joined have more of a tolerance to the sun. I’m sure Kristoff still avoids it when possible.

“This is . . . oh, my. We never expected you to get yourself out. That’s why we . . . oh, dear. Is Cora . . . um . . . Kristoff, maybe you could . . . ?”

Something was wrong with Pia. She looked uncomfortable, and slightly distressed, and she kept shooting little glances past me toward the house.

“Come into the house,” Kristoff said with a dark look. “There is much we have to . . . explain.”

What’s up? I asked Alec as Pia bustled past me, her gaze curious as she sized me up.

I have no idea, but it can’t be too bad. Despite your concerns, they are happy to see us.

I said nothing to that, but the uneasy feeling continued.

“Who was that man?” Alec asked Kristoff.

“Brother Ailwin? He’s a lichmaster. We’ve been negotiating with him to steal Ulfur from whoever the Ilargi is who has him.”

“Alphonse de Marco,” Alec said, nodding.

Pia and Kristoff stopped and stared as Alec pulled me into the house after him.

The inside of the house was even more attractive than the outside, long, cool rooms with stone floors and arched entryways giving way to a columned loggia. Through a large set of French doors, I could see outside to where a small tiered garden rose into the hillside.

“You know who the Ilargi is? Alphonse de . . .” Pia sucked in a huge breath. “Al! Al from the tour! Oh my god, he is the Ilargi? Holy cow!”

“Interesting, but not, I think, of utmost importance at this moment,” Kristoff said, his hand on Pia’s back as they escorted us into the house proper. “Alec, we need to talk.”

“This is so lovely,” I couldn’t help but say, wondering how many people it took to keep up a house and grounds of this size. The room we were in was clearly a favorite, the walls a dappled oatmeal color, bearing a number of small, brilliantly colored, but obviously quite old paintings of the Renaissance style. Antiques mingled with more comfortable furniture, a blue and cream rug on the floor mimicking a mosaic. Outside, the garden was dotted with red and amber flowers, along with a thousand different shades of green. “And the views are outstanding.”

“Perhaps you and I should have our discussion in the library,” Kristoff said slowly, his speculative gaze on me.

“There’s nothing you can say to me that you can’t say in front of Cora,” Alec said in an even tone. “For lack of a better phrase, we are bound together.”

“Temporarily,” I said quickly, giving him a look that should have melted his hair right off his head. “We’re temporarily bound together.”

“Cora is in denial,” he told the two of them. “There’s nothing temporary about our bond.”

“Er . . . bound together how?” Pia asked, her face rigid with some strong emotion.

“It’s a long story. What did you have to say to me?” Alec asked.

Pia swallowed nervously, glancing over at Kristoff.

“Maybe I should leave,” I murmured, moving toward the door. “I think I’m in the way.”

“You’re not—” Alec started to say at the same moment that a shadow moved in front of me, and a woman stood in the doorway, pinning me back with a glare.

“Yes, you should leave. You’re most definitely in the way, and I, for one, don’t appreciate you trying to steal my man.”

Alec spun around to stare at the woman, a stupefied expression on his face. “Eleanor?” he said, looking as if he had just taken a kick to the gut. “It can’t . . . Eleanor ? ”

“Who exactly are you?” I couldn’t keep from asking, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

“I’m Eleanor of Riger,” she said with a venomous look and toss of her head. “And I’m Alec’s Beloved.”

Chapter Nine

I stared at the woman, stunned beyond anything in my experience. She was shorter than me, barely over five feet, with dishwater blond hair, shrewd black eyes, and a sharp, angular chin that was raised as she looked down her nose at me. This was me? The past me? But how could that possibly be? I shook my head, so confused I just wanted to walk out and leave it all behind me.

“Eleanor,” Alec repeated, finally pulling himself together as the woman—I couldn’t think of her as me, since she was nothing like me—walked over to him, and without a glance at anyone wrapped her arms around him and damned near sucked his face off.

“Yes, my darling, it’s me. I’m back.”

“But . . .” My fingernails dug into the flesh of my palms as I struggled to keep from yanking her off Alec. “But I . . . er . . . Alec’s Beloved is dead. She was run over by an oxcart several hundred years ago.”

“How do you know that?” Kristoff asked, giving me a long once-over.

“I . . . uh . . . I had a vision of the event.”

“Ah.” He didn’t look convinced, but let the matter drop as Eleanor came up for breath. I noticed Alec didn’t seem to be fighting her very much, although his expression was anything but overjoyed to see his longlost Beloved.