They made the front page of the Daily News.
"That weasel of a reporter swears he didn't give it to his editor, but I don't know who else could have," Kathryn Falk said in a disgruntled tone. She had called Kate and Luc first thing in the morning and requested they meet her in the main restaurant for breakfast. Kate had immediately suspected the worst. And she'd been right.
She stared miserably at the newspaper photo. There was Lucern, half-standing and looking all handsome in his froufrou costume, and there was she, looking like some cheap wench crawling out from under the table to grab him by the She sighed miserably and read the headline again. "Medieval Moments?" it screamed in big letters.
Roundhouse Publishing Editor Kate C. Leever grabs all the gusto she can from vampire romance author Luke Amirault, as Kathryn Falk, Lady Barrow, CEO and founder of the Romantic Times Magazine, looks on at the Renaissance Ball last night.
Kate groaned and started to slam the paper down, but paused to reread the byline. She looked more carefully at the picture.
"When I get my hands on that man, I'm going to" Lady Barrow began.
"I think he's telling the truth," Kate interrupted wearily. "It seems to me that newspaper man's flash went off just as I came out from under the table. You were still under there. But you're in this picture."
Lady Barrow took the paper and peered at it, a frown forming on her face. "I think you're right. But who else could have taken it? Cameras weren't allowed. We had hired a photographer to take photos of people. The only guests with cameras were reporters and" Her voice trailed off, her eyes narrowing. "Why, that" She cut herself off, clearly displeased. "If you'll excuse me, I have something to take care of."
She stood, then paused and forced a smile. "Don't worry about this. It's all a tempest in a teapot. It'll pass quickly if you don't give interviews about it."
Kate and Lucern nodded, then watched Lady Barrow leave the restaurantno doubt to skin a certain photographer.
Kate sighed. Lucern did too. They avoided looking at each other. They had been avoiding looking at each other ever since last night. Jodi had helped untangle Kate's sleeve from his codpiece, after which he had promptly excused himself. Kate had then settled at the table where Jodi and the other writers had tried to cheer her, while Chris had tried valiantly not to laugh. Chuck had come by twice to talk to the writers and toss glares her way. Allison had come by at least three times to reassure her that everything would be fine. Chris had again tried not to laugh.
When Lucern hadn't returned after half an hour, Kate had excused herself and gone back to their suite. Lucern had just been coming out of his room. His gaze had touched hers, then shifted quickly away as he asked if the ball was over. Kate had told him it wasn't, but she had a headache and wanted to lie down. He'd made a sympathetic comment, told her that he'd just come upstairs for a drinkfrom which she gathered that he'd had some bloodthen had said perhaps he'd just relax in the suite, too.
Kate had merely shrugged. She felt depressed and miserable, a gigantic failure at life and wondered how everything had gone so wrong.
And that had been before her folly was plastered all over the newspaper.
She sighed again.
"I guess we should head to the hospitality suite," Lucern finally suggested.
Kate grimaced. She'd had to drag him to the blasted thing that first day; now he was all eager to go. And she wasn't. The last thing in the world Kate wanted was to go anywhere she might have to face Chuck Morgan. If the publisher hadn't been pleased with her last night, today, after seeing the headlines, he would be livid. If she still had her job by noon, she'd be a lucky woman.
But, she told herself, there was no sense in dragging it out. She might as well go learn the awful truth.
It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. In some ways, it was worse. Kate still had a job. In fact, Chuck was terribly pleased with the publicity. Lucern had made the front page, after all. As had Roundhouse Publishing. The man kept congratulating her as if her public humiliation was some sort of grand promotional scheme. Kate would have liked to choke him. By the end of the day, she decided that if he patted her in that congratulatory manner one more time, she was going to.
It was more than a relief to Kate when they closed up the hospitality suite and everyone was freed to prepare for the night's Rock 'n' Roll party.
Her gaze went to Lucern. The man had come out of his shell with a vengeance. Every time she'd looked his way today, he'd been talking to a fan or another writer. Kate couldn't be sure, but she suspected he'd done more talking since arriving at this conference than he had in the past several decades. He'd become more loquacious with each passing day, and today had been no exception.
Of course, there wasn't a single solitary conference attendee who hadn't seen the headlines. The news of the situation had also made the rounds, and while most people were terribly sympathetic with both her and Lucern, there were a few who still snickered. They offered their "You poor dears" or their "How embarrassing it must be for yous," while they chuckled nonetheless. Of course, Lucern wasn't suffering those little snickers. Everyone seemed to feel great sympathy for him, saving all their amusement for her.
Which was usually the way of it, Kate thought wearily as she walked toward the table with Lucern and the other writers; the woman always suffered the scorn and humiliation, while the man walked away with the glory or sympathy. Unfortunately, try as she might, Kate couldn't be angry at Lucern for the way other people acted. He had apologized repeatedly while Kate and Jodi had worked to untangle her sleeve from his codpiece, and she knew he really felt bad about the whole thing. But it hadn't been his fault. It had just been one of life's unfortunate incidents.
Lucern glanced at her as she approached, and Kate managed to pull a smile from the depths of herself.
"Time to go?" he asked.
"Yes." She smiled at him, then the table in general. "Time to get ready for the Rock 'n' Roll party."
Lucern stood and took her hand, his gaze moving over her face with a tinge of what she thought might be concern. "You look weary."
"It was a long day," Kate agreed with a small shrug. They left the hospitality suite. They didn't speak again until they reached their own. Chris hadn't returned yet, and the suite was empty and silent.
"What does one wear to a rock and roll party?" Lucern asked as he closed the door behind them.
"Well, I gather it's an oldies type party. Fifties. Jeans and T-shirts will do. I brought a leather jacket and boots for you to wear," Kate explained. She had said she would take care of everything, and she had to the best of her abilities.
"A leather jacket?" Lucern asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes. You know, the Fonzie look."
"The who?"
She frowned at his bewildered expression, then recalled he didn't watch television. He'd missed loads, she realized with amazement. "He's a cool fifties character from a series. Leather jacket, jeans, leather boots and greased back hair. Very cool."
"Ah. Yes, I recall a couple characters like that from those days." Lucern nodded. "But how did you know what boot size to get?"
Kate flushed and shrugged, then turned toward her door. She was slipping through it when she admitted, "I called your mother and asked."
She didn't wait for his response, simply closed the door on his startled expression. Then she went to pull out the bagged clothing from the costumers. She set the bag holding the leather jacket and boots on the bed, then held the see-through bag with her own costume up for inspection. This was certainly going to be an adventure. The costume didn't look at all appealing. She'd bet anything that those crinolines were going to itch like crazy.
Actually, she'd been wrong, Kate admitted sometime later as she surveyed herself in the mirror. She wore saddle shoes, bobby socks, the pink poodle skirt and a cream sweater set. She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail and gone light on the makeup, and she looked about sixteen. She shook her head at her reflection, then decided she was ready and walked out to collect the bag with Luc's costume.
Chris and Luc were both watching television when Kate joined them in the living room, and her gaze slid from one's oil-slicked head to the other. She gaped. "What have you two done to your hair?"
Chris turned and grinned. "Isn't it great? Luc helped me with it. I didn't bring a leather jacket, but he said if I stuck a pack of cigarettes under my T-shirt sleeve I'd look just as cool."
Kate looked at Lucern. Great. Now she had two grease-slicked Fonzies on her hands. Still, other than the hairstyle, they were very different. Chris's hair was light, while Lucern's was as dark as midnight. Chris was tall and wiry, his body lanky rather than having the muscular breadth of Luc's. Chris's T-shirt was plain white; Lucern's was black and pulled tight across his chest, showing every ripple of his muscles. God, he looked hot. Even with enough grease in his hair to fry donuts.
"Is that for me?" Lucern stood and walked over, his gaze sliding across her in a slow caress.
"Yes." Kate handed him the bagged clothing, aware her face was flushing. She not only looked sixteen, she felt sixteen at the moment.
"You look lovely," he said in a whisper-soft voice. "Sweet and cute. The picture of youth."
Sweet and cute. Kate chewed over those words as Luc unwrapped his boots and jacket, then donned them. Puppies were cute. And who wanted to look like "the picture of youth"?
"A perfect fit."
Kate glanced at Lucern where he stretched, testing the fit in the shoulders of his jacket. Her gaze didn't settle on his shoulders, though, but on his chest where the muscles bunched. Cute and youthful. She sighed.
"Looks great." Chris got to his feet and joined them at the center of the room. "Let's get going. I have to stop and pick up a pack of cigarettes to stick under my sleeve."
Kate managed to tear her gaze from Lucern's chest. She nodded, then turned to lead the way out.
The Rock 'n' Roll party was in full swing when they arrived. Kate took one look at the dancersmostly womenand winced. Some of them were very good. Some obviously didn't have a clue what they were doing. Kate very much feared she would fall into the latter category.
"I suppose you know the dances?" she asked Lucern. At her pained expression, he grinned one of his rare grins and nodded.
"Very well, actually." Then he added, "I'll teach you." To Kate, who was of the considered opinion that she had two left feet, that sounded very much like a threat. But Lucern was a very good teacher and, being one of so few men, he was much in demand. He took everything with a good grace that nearly sent Kate into coma from the shock. She watched him dance with twenty or so women at a time. He lined them up in rows, patiently teaching them steps amidst much giggling, then twirled the women about in the air with the strength and stamina of a bull. The women thought he was marvelous. Kate did, too. She couldn't believe this was the same surly man who'd once slammed a door in her face. This man smiled. This man had the patience of Job. This man was every woman's dream. She even let him teach her how to dance.
The party was great fun, but Kate had suffered a stressful day and she found herself growing tired early. Lucern apparently noticed the yawns she was trying to hide. "You have to leave," he said, coming over and collecting her. He then lectured her all the way back to their suitemostly about not eating enough. He had apparently noticed she'd been too busy talking to her writers to eat more than a few bites from the buffet.
"I don't like it. You have to take better care of yourself," he insisted firmly. "You expend far too much time and energy on behalf of your writers, myself included," he complained.
Kate tried to defend herself, pointing out that this was only one week a year.
Luc wasn't fool enough to fall for it. "Jodi mentioned many other conventions that are held throughout the year," he said. "And I hear you frequently work nights and even weekends, editing and reading books from your 'slush pile.' "
Kate made a mental note to block Jodi from her Windows instant messenger after hours, if the author was going to go and tattle on her. She always kept her instant messenger signed on while she was in the office, in case one of her writers had a question. Jodi often berated her for working so much, but the last thing Kate needed was Lucern knowing she had absolutely no social life.
Of course, he had apparently lost interest in pursuing the passion they had briefly shared. He hadn't tried anything since that first night and the morning after. That had been Tuesday and Wednesday. It was now Friday night, and other than holding her hand in a calming manner, Lucern hadn't done anything to initiate another such occurrence.
Of course, neither had she, Kate admitted to herself. She eyed him consideringly. Perhaps
"You're going to bed the moment we get back in the room. And I don't want to see you again until at least seven a.m. That means ten hours of sleep. You need it," Lucern said firmly, interrupting her thoughts as they stepped out of the elevator.
Kate sighed inwardly. There was no "perhaps" about it; the man wasn't interested in bedding her any longer, and he had just made sure she wouldn't get the idea herself. Had those first two passionate encounters been caused purely by his need for blood? Perhaps he had deliberately seduced her only in an effort to "have a nibble." Perhaps she hadn't noticed his lack of true interest the first two times because she had been so overwhelmed, hadn't been aware of the fact that he might deliberately excite her only to bite her. She had certainly been aware of it the third time and noticed it then, but only until his practiced, deliberate assault on her senses had overwhelmed her. Perhaps he wasn't at all interested in her as anything but dinner.
Why had she thought otherwise? And when had it started to mean so much?
Kate sighed unhappily as they entered their suite. It was rather disheartening to be nothing but a snack.
"Sleep well." Lucern gave her a gentle push toward her bedroom door, and Kate went without comment. She managed to murmur good night before slipping inside, but that was just for pride's sake. Her shoulders slumped, her heart sore as she began to undress.
Lucern watched the door close behind Kate and frowned to himself. The woman worked too hard, ate too little, and was killing herself to keep everyone happyincluding himself. She needed rest. She needed to eat more. And, above all, she needed to relax. He could think of many ways to help her do that. Unfortunately, most involved both of them naked, and he wasn't at all sure she would welcome that now that she knew the truth about him. It had been his experience that most women were repulsed by his being a vampire. Kate certainly wasn't the first woman who had learned his secret over the years, and he had found, more often than not, they became afraid of him upon learning the truth. To keep himself and his family safe, he had often had to exert himself to veil their memories, or persuade them the revelation was just a dream.
Kate hadn't appeared frightened, though. She'd seemed to look at his vampirism as just a problem. Luc was a vampire, but he was also one of her most successful writers, and he needed blood. She had had to find him some. She had even been willing to indulge in intimacies in the men's washroom to accommodate him. Other than that, however, she had shown no sign of interest.
He recalled, his first night here and the first morning, when they had found themselves in passionate circumstances. But that had been before Kate knew he was a vampire. She might very well find him repulsive now.
Suddenly aware of tension in his neck and shoulders, Lucern removed his leather jacket and tossed it over a chair. He rotated first one shoulder then the other, then his head as well, trying to ease the muscles there. It was Kate's doing. He wished he knew what she was thinking and where she stood on the matter. He wanted her to want him. He wanted her. He grimaced. It was a foolish want. Kate was a modern woman with career aspirations and a life and home in New York. She had left life in sleepy Nebraska to pursue a job in the publishing industry. She would hardly give that up to move to Canada to carry out an affairand Lucern didn't know her well enough to be sure he wanted a life with her. For the average human, a bad marriage was only a forty- or fifty-year sentence; it could be much much longer for him.
His gaze slid to the small bar in the corner, and he considered a Scotch before bed. He decided against it. He wasn't much of a drinker and didn't want to start relying on it. Alcohol had done serious damage to his father, Claude, even killing him in the end.
Shrugging, he decided he might as well go to sleep.
The first thing that struck him when he entered his room was the sweet smell of blood heavy in the air. Then he realized that the bedside lamp was on, and he stiffened. He had turned the light out before leaving for the ball. It was now on. His body began to pump adrenaline even as his gaze swept the room.
The partially open fridge door, and the slashed bags of blood lying before it, explained the scent in the air. Other than that, nothing seemed disturbed. There didn't appear to be anyone around. Of course, the scent of blood was so thick, his usual ability to sense anyone nearby was hampered.
He took a step toward his looted blood supply, in-tending to see if anything was salvageable. But even as he did, he heard the whisper of the bedroom door swinging closed behind him. He whirled just in time to feel the stake slamming into his chest.
Kate had removed her clothes and was debating whether to shower or simply go to bed when she heard a crash. She paused, her head tilting as she listened. When something slammed hard into the wall separating her room from Luc's, she snatched for her robe, dragged it on, and tied the sash as she ran into the living room.
The door to Lucern's room was closed. Kate didn't bother to knock, but thrust it open and rushed inside. She nearly crashed into two men locked in combat. At first, all she saw were the two men grappling with each other; then she noticed the stake, its tip buried in Lucern's chest and blood seeping out. She shrieked in horror, though she didn't know it. She heard the yell as a distant sound.
At last, breaking out of her shock-induced paralysis, she glanced wildly around. The only weapon she could see were the bedside lamps. She ran to grab one, cursing when the damned thing didn't move. It was fastened to the bedside table. Her gaze shot back to Lucern and his assailant. There was more blood, and it seemed to her the stake had gone deeper. Lucern appeared to be weakening. Yet there wasn't a single damned thing around to use as a weapon. Desperate, she grabbed a pillow and ran over, batting at the stranger, then slamming the pillow into his head and shoulders. Her attack had little effect on the man. He didn't even glance around.
Letting loose a howl of rage as her gaze shifted to Lucern's pale face, Kate caught the pillow at each end and swung it over the attacker's head and slammed it into his face. Pulling it tight, she proceeded to try to climb the fellow's back. Much to her relief, he released Lucern and stumbled backward, trying to grab wildly at her. She managed to avoid his flailing hands, and held on to the pillow with all her might. He couldn't possibly breathe like this, and she was praying he would pass out before he managed to get her.
She released an "oomph," but managed to stay on his back as he staggered back into the wall next to the closet. Kate held on, knowing both she and Luc were lost if she didn't.
Kate glanced desperately at Lucern. He was on his knees by the bed, his hands weakly gripping the stake in his chest. She recalled him saying that a stake would kill him if left in too long, and she knew she had to get to him fast. Her thoughts were scattered as the man she was riding slammed backward again, this time propelling them into the closet. Kate grunted as her head slammed into the clothing rod.
The pain was like an explosion inside her head, blinding her with searing white flashes behind her eyes. She wanted to grab her head and hold it in her hands until the agony passed, but she couldn't let go of the pillow and so hung there blind and in agony, clinging to consciousness by a thread.
When the pain finally began to wane, Kate wasn't sure how much time had passed. It took a moment before she realized her view had changed. She was lower to the ground. She turned her attention to the man she clung to, and she saw that he had sunk to his knees, taking her with him. She let her feet drop to the floor, her gaze returning to Lucern. Alarm again coursed through her. He was slumped forward, his head down. Realizing that she couldn't wait any longer for her assailant to pass out from lack of oxygen, she released one end of the pillow to search around the floor of the closet.
She tried to keep the pillow in place over the man's face with her one hand, but she was aware she was failing. She heard him taking great gasps of air, and she knew it wouldn't take long for him to recoup enough to become a serious threat again. That thought had barely managed to panic her when Kate's searching hand bumped something. She snatched it up, recognizing it for a shoe, and without a thought slammed it down on her attacker's head. He didn't immediately fall forward under the blow, and she realized she was holding the shoe by the heel. She gave up on holding the pillow in place, turned the shoe around and this time slammed the heel down on the back of her enemy's skull with all the strength she could muster.
Much to her satisfaction, the blow workedthe man fell soundlessly forward on his face. Leaving him where he lay, Kate struggled to her feet and stumbled over to Lucern.
The first thing she did was grab him by the shoulders and urge him up. He fell onto his back without a sound. His head slammed against the floor, hard, and his knees bent, his lower legs caught under him. Kate peered at him unhappily. He was gray. She had never seen him this color. But there wasn't much blood lost that she could tell. The stake still protruded from his chest, allowing only a bit of seepage. But she recalled his saying the heart couldn't pump with a stake there, and she knew that if she didn't remove it, he would die.
The stake was made of the light wood usually found at do-it-yourself places, and it looked like a dowel or something. Lucern's attacker had bought and sharpened a dowel to a point so that he could stake Lucern. Now she would have to unstake him or he would die.
She didn't waste time thinking about what she was doing; she knew that every second counted. Reaching out, she grabbed the dowel firmly and pulled it freewhich wasn't as easy as she'd expected. She hadn't really thought about it, but if she had, Kate supposed she would have expected it to pull free like a knife from butter. Lucern's body wasn't butter. There was some resistance to the removal, and she had to exert some strength. The sloppy squelching sound as she removed it made what little food she'd managed to down at supper threaten to make an encore appearance.
Kate swallowed determinedly. Tossing the stake aside, she quickly covered the wound in Lucern's chest as blood began to pour out in great gushes. She applied pressure in an effort to keep him from bleeding to death, praying all the while that his blood would repair the damage. As she sat there, she wondered if she was really helping to save him or killing him.
She sat like that for several minutes, just pressing down on his chest, until a moan from Lucern's attacker warned that he was coming around. She felt torn between staying to hold in Lucern's blood, or somehow incapacitating the man again. It seemed to her that if the man came around, she and Luc would probably both be dead. Surely he would finish Lucern off, then kill her as a witness. On the other hand, she would risk Lucern's bleeding to death if she left him.
Her gaze slid back to Lucern's face and she hesitated, then cautiously removed her hands from his chest. Much to her relief, blood didn't come gushing out as before. His body was repairing itself. She hoped so, or he was dead.
Banishing that thought, Kate got to her feet and peered around the room for something to tie up their enemy. She spotted the black backpack with all the burglary paraphernalia, and relief soaked through her. She had handed it to Lucern to take the blood with him and never bothered to ask for it back. Hurrying to it, she found the rope, but tossed that aside and snatched up the duct tape and the knife instead. She wasn't very good with knots. Besides, she suspected the tape would be harder for the man to get free.
Another groan from her attacker made Kate rush to his side. She pulled his hands behind his back and quickly began wrapping tape around his wrists, running the roll between his lower arms and hands for good measure. Once satisfied that he couldn't free himself, she moved to his feet and bound his ankles the same way. Then she rolled him onto his back so that he lay on his bound hands, and began to wrap tape over his mouth and around his head. It would be a bitch to get the tape off his hair, but she didn't care. He deserved that and more.
Kate was just finishing when the attacker's eyes suddenly blinked open. She gave a start as he jerked, trying to break free. Hatred blazed from his eyes. She met his gaze for a moment, then finished with the tape, ignoring his useless struggles.
Had Lucern been a normal man, she would have called the police. But Lucern wasn't a normal man. How could she explain the situation? Kate's gaze swept the room, falling on the partially open fridge door and the slashed bags of blood. She couldn't explain any of this to the police. No, she was on her own.
Pushing herself to her feet, Kate moved almost reluctantly back to Lucern's side. Then she hesitated, unsure what to do. There still didn't appear to be a great deal of blood loss. On the other hand, she suspected it would probably take a lot of blood to repair the damage done to Lucern. He would need blood.
Her eyes went to his mouth. He didn't seem to be breathing, let alone in any shape to drink from her. On the other hand, she saw that the wound in his chest was not gushing. It wasn't bleeding at all. If anything, she was sure the hole was smaller and there was less blood present.
Kate recalled that Lucern had said that something in his blood used blood to repair injuries. Was it using that blood even now? Could it repair him and keep him alive if he was still alive.
Kate leaned forward and grabbed the ragged edges of Luc's T-shirt where the stake had torn it. She rent it open, pulling one long strip of cloth free. Setting it on the floor next to her, she shifted her head over Luc's chest for a closer look at his wound. Yes, there was definitely less blood. Surely, that was a sign he still lived?
Biting her lip, she glanced down at the knife in her hand. He couldn't feed off her. But could she feed him?
Acting before she could think about it and change her mind, Kate slashed her wrist, then she held it over his wound, allowing her blood to drip freely into it. She stayed like that, stopping only when she started to feel a little lightheaded. Then she quickly grabbed the slip of T-shirt she had ripped free. Using that, she tightly bandaged her wrist. It was an awkward procedure, but she managed.
At last, Kate sat back and cast a glance at the man who had attacked Lucern. He was where she had left him, still tightly trussed. If he had fought the binding, it was holding fast. Noting that with relief, she turned her attention back to Lucern. His eyes were still closed, his face pale and still. He didn't open his eyes or smile at her as she had hoped. The wound wasn't closing miraculously. It wasn't anything like the movies. She wished it were.
Kate resolved herself to a long vigil. She wasn't at all sure he would open those silver eyes again, but she wasn't going to give up either.
Weariness overtaking her, Kate shifted to lie beside him and rested her aching head on his uninjured shoulder. She lay there in silence for a moment, listening, but no heartbeat met her ears. The stake had stopped his heart. She just wasn't sure if it had stopped it for good.
"Come back to me, Lucern," she whispered, closing her eyes to shut out the light. "Please."
