* * *

Gavin was kissing me when I woke. "I do not know when I shall return," he said and kissed me again before walking out my bedroom door. I blinked back tears as I watched him leave.

I sent an email to Winkler that evening, telling him that as an honored tradition among werewolves, what he'd done sucked. Of course, I skirted around the term werewolf and didn't describe the incident just in case, but he'd know what I meant. He sent an email back after a few hours, due to the time differences, I'm sure, and told me that usually if a female was involved, they got full sex and not a dry hump.

"Thanks for that, O furry one," I replied.

"Howling with laughter," he sent back. The man was a lunatic in every sense of the word and that's what I emailed back to him.

Merrill and I finally discussed biting in public during my lessons. "It is considered a public bite if there are other vampires around that may become frenzied if they smell blood," Merrill explained. "If they cannot control themselves, humans may be killed as a result. This is not the same as when you bit that young man in the alley. There were no vampires close enough, you took the blood properly and not as a deliberate act of sex, which is what happened the night of the ball. The vampire was not hungry; he merely wanted his escort to experience a climax. He should have taken her outside and away from the others if that is what he wished to do."

"Gavin took me to El Diablo," I mumbled, staring at my hands.

"And I'm sure he explained the differences to you."

"He did. I emailed Winkler and told him his traditions sucked," I lifted my eyes to Merrill.

"And he more than likely informed you that normally, the actual sex act is included instead of what he did."

"He may have mentioned it. I called him a lunatic."

Merrill smiled. "Tomorrow," he said, I will take you and Franklin to London, where we will inspect the building that Sergio Velenci owned which now belongs to you. You may decide whether to keep it or sell it. There is also the matter of the villa in Spain. I have photographs of it." He handed a large envelope over that he'd pulled from a desk drawer.

"I don't need this," I said, going through the pictures. It was a grand estate, no doubt about it, and more than likely still contained Sergio's scent. I had no desire ever to smell that again.

"I can have someone pack up things such as jewelry and the like and have them shipped to you, so you may go through them and decide if there's anything you'd like to keep. Otherwise, a prestigious auction house will be more than happy to offer those things for sale," Merrill said. I nodded. "Do you wish to keep any of the furniture?"

"No."

"There are buyers who would like the villa furnished as it is," Merrill said. "Here is a listing of the artwork, along with photographs." We looked at those for a while. There was some Baroque art, even a few Rococo pieces, along with a Neoclassical piece or two. What really drew my attention was the Vermeer; I drew in a breath at that one.

"Merrill, I want this one," I passed the photograph back to him.

"You have excellent taste," Merrill smiled. "That one is priceless. It probably hasn't seen the light of day since Sergio acquired it—shortly after the artist painted it, no doubt. I'll have it packed up and shipped directly to my business address. Is there anything else you might like?"

"The Rubens. Do you think the Honored One would like the David?" It was a Neoclassical piece, depicting Napoleon.

"I think he would like that very much," Merrill said, smiling slightly.

"Do you want the Rembrandt?" I passed the photograph over to him.

"Are you sure you want to give this away? It is worth millions."

"I know. I'm asking if you want it. If you do, I'd like to give it to you. As an early Christmas gift."

"I would be honored to accept," he smiled. "I have a spot for it in my drawing room."

"Let me ask Gavin if there's anything here he wants; I guess I'll have to call or email," I said, leafing through the photographs again. "Franklin, too."

"You know quite a bit about art," Merrill said.

"I have an MFA in fine art, you know. They don't hand those out unless you take a truckload of hours in art history."

"I see." Merrill's smile deepened.

"So, you can keep Baudelaire and Voltaire," I said. "I can talk art with anybody, including those vampires who painted on cave walls, I think."

Franklin had a hard time choosing between the Fragonard and the Boucher, so I asked Merrill to have both of them packed up and sent to him. Franklin tried to stop me, so I hugged him into submission. Who knew Franklin would want a painting of Louis XV's mistress?

"The prospective buyers for the villa are vampires and have offered a fair amount for the property," Merrill informed me later. "They understand that the art work will not be included and didn't expect it."

"They're not like Nyles Abernathy, with an ax to grind, are they?" I asked. I just wanted to make sure.

"No. I know these personally, and that will not be the case," Merrill hugged me lightly. "Actually, Henri and Gervais, the misters, wish to buy. The countryside is beautiful there."

"Then more power to them," I said.

* * *

"Honey, I just need to know if you want any of the paintings," I spoke with Gavin on the phone later. I'd left a voicemail earlier and he'd called me back.

"You don't miss me?"

"Of course I miss you. I don't miss your temper; you can leave that behind when you come home."

"Amusing," Gavin grumbled.

"I'm teasing you. I don't think a surgeon could separate you and your temper."

"Then I am pleased you realize that."

"Charles wants to see a movie and asked me to go along." I winced, expecting the jealous rage but it didn't come.

"Charles would be a good companion," Gavin acknowledged. "I trust you have only a platonic interest in him?"

"I think of Charles as a friend, nothing more," I said.

"He's not your type," Gavin said, right at the moment I said almost the same thing.

"We say jinx when people do that," I laughed.

Charles and I did go out in early November. We saw a romantic comedy (I guess some vampires actually enjoy those, he and I did). He had a place in London, although he stayed at Wlodek's most of the time. The best part about the outing was the fact that we had fun and it was nice. He knew not to get too friendly; I don't think many vampires would want to tangle with Gavin, after all. The trouble with having Charles as a friend was his job—Charles didn't have a lot of spare time.




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