"You were supposed to convince her that she wasn't dreaming, son."
"I know," Etienne said soothingly. He'd never seen his mother so annoyed. She had been sweet and nice to Rachel, ignoring the wet-dream comment and acting as if she hadn't just walked in on an awkward moment. Presenting Rachel with a tote bag filled with clothes collected from her apartment, Marguerite had then suggested Rachel might be more comfortable in them than Etienne's cast-offs. Then she had asked Rachel to come below when she was ready.
Next, she had ushered Etienne out of the room, her silence along the hall and down the stairs warning him that she was more than a little peeved. Now, in the living room, he tried to defend himself. "I tried to convince her it wasn't a dream. I really did."
"Well, you apparently failed," Marguerite snapped. "The girl thinks she's having an erotic dream, for God's sake!"
"An erotic dream?" Bastien echoed. His tone was half-amused, half-horrified.
"Fascinating." Lucern--a carbon copy of Bastien, except taller--pulled a pen and pad out of his pocket and jotted something down.
Etienne glared at his older brothers, then took a deep calming breath. Turning back to his mother, he said, "She's really resisting the idea of being a vampire. I mean, really resisting, Mother. She's twisting her brain and contorting her thoughts in the most convoluted ways to avoid accepting it."
"Perhaps you haven't presented it properly."
That deep male voice drew Etienne's attention to the bar, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise at the couple standing there. The man had spoken, but Etienne's gaze found his sister first. Except for the fact that she was blond, Lissianna was an exact replica of their mother. She always looked beautiful, but now, as she crossed the room toward him with a drink, she positively glowed. Being engaged obviously agreed with her.
Etienne glanced at the man following her. Gregory Hewitt. Tall, dark-haired, and good-looking, Lissianna's fianc¨¦ smiled at him in greeting.
"I didn't realize you two were coming over," Etienne said. "I thought you were busy with wedding preparations."
"Never too busy for family," Lissianna murmured. She hugged him. "Besides, I had to meet your life mate."
Etienne slumped. His life mate was fighting him tooth and nail--when she wasn't doing completely outlandish things like insisting this was all a wet dream and jumping him.
"As I said," Gregory reiterated, slipping his arm around Lissianna. She released Etienne and stepped back. "Perhaps you simply haven't presented it in the right light."
"Of course he hasn't," Lissianna agreed, smiling. "Once she knows all the benefits, she'll take to it fine."
"I told her the benefits," Etienne insisted.
"Bet you didn't tell her all of them." Lissianna's grin somewhat soothed his irritation at her questioning his abilities.
"Bet I did," he countered.
"We shall see."
Lissianna shrugged and smiled, but the smile was aimed over his shoulder, making Etienne aware of someone else--Rachel, of course. He turned, his eyes widening as he took in her outfit. She had been wearing dress pants, a blouse, and a lab coat both times he'd seen her in the morgue. She had been naked, wrapped in a sheet, or wearing one of his shirts here in his home. Now he found himself gaping at her in a pair of tight, faded jeans and a T-shirt that barely reached her midriff. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face was makeup free. Altogether, she looked about eighteen. A very sexy eighteen. Etienne was wowed.
"Umm, these aren't... er..." Rachel shifted on her feet, tugging nervously on the bottom of her T-shirt in an effort to draw it down to hide her belly. "I don't suppose you brought any other clothes back from my apartment, did you?"
"I'm sorry. No, dear. Are they wrong?" Marguerite asked. Getting to her feet, she approached. "Aren't they yours? I got them out of your closet. They were the only casual clothes I could find."
"Yes. Yes, they're mine," Rachel said quickly. "But they're old. I mean, I haven't worn jeans since graduating University, and I've obviously outgrown them." She frowned down at herself and tugged on the top again. "I should have thrown them out, really, but I'm something of a packrat."
"No, you look wonderful." Marguerite took her hand and drew her to the couch. Once she was seated, the woman patted her hand and said, "From what Etienne has told us, you appear to be a little confused."
"I'm not the one confused," Rachel said, though she was no longer sure that was the case. This dream had taken a surreal twist. She wasn't sure what was happening. Dream? Nightmare? Feverish imaginings? Was it all just bad drugs?
"Ah. Well." Marguerite smiled widely. "Perhaps if you tell me the last thing you recall before waking, we could work from there."
"The last thing," Rachel pondered. The logic was comforting. Marguerite wasn't claiming to be a vampire or insisting Rachel was, either. Maybe this would all work itself out.
She ran her tongue over her upper teeth, relieved to find them perfectly normal. This all had to be the result of bad drugs. She rubbed absently at her chest where the ax had severed skin but left no scar. She was probably comatose right now and a bad morphine drip was giving her weird dreams. Not necessarily bad dreams. Those few heated moments in the bedroom hadn't been bad at all. In fact, the only bad part to her mind was that it had ended so abruptly--and without satisfaction.
"The last thing I remember..." she repeated, pushing other thoughts aside. "I was at work for the first time after being sick for a week."
"Uh-huh." Marguerite nodded encouragingly.
"Tony was off, and Beth was late." She glanced up and added, "Car trouble."
Marguerite made a murmur of possible sympathy for the unknown Beth and her car.
"Fred and Dale, a couple of EMTs, brought in a crispy critter."
"A crispy critter?"
Rachel glanced at the man seated across from her. He, like the man from earlier, looked a lot like a brunette Etienne, but a little grumpier. And he had a pad he seemed to be making notes on. She stared curiously at the notebook on his knee and answered, "Burn victim."
"You call them crispy critters?" Bastien, the first brunette, asked in distress.
Rachel heaved an inward sigh. It was difficult to explain such seeming coldheartedness to people not in the industry, but she gave it a try.
"Death can be pretty grim. Sometimes we use such terms to... well, basically, to distance ourselves from the tragedy. And every case is a tragedy, whether burn victim or heart attack. Every individual is loved by someone and will be grieved over. We're aware of that, but we have to push it to the back of our minds or we simply couldn't do our jobs." She could tell by the expressions of those around her that they didn't really understand. She supposed no one really could. Her job was difficult work, both technically and emotionally. She and her co-workers did their best to respect the dead, but some of their coping mechanisms...
"So this Fred and Dale brought in a burn victim," the young blond woman prompted.
"Yes." Rachel glanced curiously from her to the woman who'd collected her clothes. The two could have been twins but for the difference in their hair colors. Then Rachel's gaze slid to Etienne again, and confusion filled her. "Yes, a car explosion victim. Fred and Dale left, and I started to process the burn victim and noticed that the burnt skin seemed to be coming away as if it wasn't burnt skin at all but something blown onto him by the explosion. Then I thought I saw his chest move. So I tried to take a pulse, but as I did..." She hesitated. This was where things got murky. Not because she couldn't recall--Rachel would never forget that ax entering her body--but because there was no wound now and nothing made sense.
"But as you did..." the man with the pad prompted.
"The door to the morgue slammed open." She forced herself to continue. "A man was there, dressed in khakis and a trench coat. He whipped the trench coat open and had a rifle hanging on a strap from one shoulder and an ax from the other. He yelled at me." Her gaze flicked with uncertainty to Etienne again, then away.
"He yelled to get back, that the burn victim was a vampire. Then he rushed forward, raising the ax as he came. I realized he meant to cut off my burn victim's head, but I couldn't let him. I wasn't sure the man was really dead. I moved between them, hoping to stop him, but he was already committed. He couldn't stop, and the ax..." Her voice trailed off, and she reached absently to rub below her collarbone.
Silence reigned for a moment, then Rachel cleared her throat and finished, "He was horrified by what he did. He tried to help me, but I was in shock and scared, then I think someone started to come into the morgue. He spooked, told me help would soon arrive, told me to stay alive, then turned and fled."
"Bastard," Etienne breathed. He turned to the others. "I definitely say we call the police and claim he kidnapped her. Let them lock him away."
"But he didn't kidnap me," Rachel said.
"That doesn't matter," Etienne claimed. "It'll be your word against his, and someone saw him enter the hospital with weapons. They'll believe you."
"But he didn't kidnap me," she repeated.
"No, he just tried to kill you," he replied sarcastically. Turning back to the others, he added, "We can have her call the police from a phone booth near his house and claim she just escaped, then--"
"I'm not doing that," Rachel interrupted. "I'll tell the police that he accidentally hit me with the ax while aiming for you, and that he seemed to regret it at once, but I will not claim he kidnapped me. That would be lying."
Her host huffed with exasperation. "Rachel, he tried to kill you."
"Actually, no, he didn't," she argued. "That was an accident."
"Okay. So he tried to kill me," he snapped.
"Well, if you're a soulless bloodsucker like you claim, who could blame him for trying to kill you!"
Everyone gasped. Then Marguerite burst out laughing.
Etienne gaped at her. "Mother! How can you laugh at that?"
"She's so delightful, dear," she excused, then turned to pat Rachel's hand. "He isn't soulless, child. None of us are. Neither are you."
Rachel looked mutinous. Marguerite apparently decided not to convince her, but to take a different approach. She said, "Let me introduce my children. You've met Etienne, of course."
Etienne offered an encouraging smile, but he doubted Rachel noticed it. Her gaze skated nervously to him, then away as she nodded and blushed.
"And this is my daughter Lissianna, and her fianc¨¦ Gregory." Marguerite smiled as she gestured to the pair, then waited for Lissi and Greg to shake Rachel's hand and welcome her. She next turned to her elder sons. "And these are my oldest boys--Lucern and Bastien. Stop grinning like that, boys. You'll make Rachel uncomfortable."
Etienne's head snapped around. A glare covered his face when he saw the way both men were leering.
"Umm, excuse me," Rachel interrupted, her confused gaze on Marguerite. "Did you say your children?"
"Yes." Marguerite smiled.
"But you're far too young to--"
"Thank you, dear," Marguerite interrupted with a laugh. "But I am much older than I look."
Rachel's eyes narrowed. "How much older?"
"I'm seven hundred and thirty-six."
Rachel blinked, then cleared her throat. "Seven hundred and thirty-six?" she echoed.
"Yes, dear." Marguerite nodded.
Rachel nodded.
They all nodded.
Then Rachel shook her head, closed her eyes, and Etienne distinctly caught the words, "I'm still dreaming. But it's turned into a nightmare again."
Much to Etienne's surprise, his mother burst out laughing again and patted her hand. "It's not a dream. Or a nightmare. Or even a wet dream," she explained. "This is all really happening. We are--though we don't much care for the term--vampires, and I really am seven hundred and thirty-six years old."
"I see." Rachel nodded again, then closed her eyes and shook her head.
Her eyes blinked open and she cried out in surprised pain as Marguerite reached over and pinched her. "You aren't dreaming," the woman said. "That pinch would have woken you up. This is all really happening. We are vampires. And you are now, too."
"You say that like it's a good thing," Rachel muttered. Then she added, "This whole family is loony."
"Perhaps if Bastien were to explain the scientific basis of it," Greg said suddenly. He wore a sympathetic look that reminded Etienne he had only recently dealt with all of this himself.
"Yes." Bastien stood and moved to join Rachel on the sofa. Etienne watched Marguerite get up and move to the bar to poke around in the fridge. He suspected his mother was having a little drink from his private stock of blood. He doubted if any of them had stopped to feed before coming over. They were all concerned about this matter. Pudge's knowledge and obsession was a threat to them all.
"You see," Bastien began, taking Rachel's hand and smiling at her in a way Etienne didn't care for." 'Vampire' is a term that we didn't choose. It was applied to us, and we accept its expediency when dealing with mortals--er... non-vampire types, I mean. But it isn't quite correct."
"It isn't?" Rachel sounded wary.
"No. At least not in the way that vampires have come to be known. We aren't this way due to any curse," Bastien explained, "or because God shunned us. Hence the reason religious symbols have no effect on us."
"I see," Rachel said slowly.
"We are not possessed by demons who contort our facial features and who feed on or delight in torturing people."
"Uh-huh."
"There is a scientific explanation and basis for our state."
That caught her attention. She was listening, Etienne noted with relief.
"You see, our ancestors are very old," Bastien explained. "They're from before Roman times, before the birth of Christ. Before recorded history, actually."
"Oh?" Rachel was looking uncertain again.
"Yes. Our original home was a place some people refer to as Atlantis."
"Ah." Etienne knew from Rachel's tone of voice that Bastien was losing her again. She had that skeptical look on her face once more.
"Our scientists there were quite advanced. They developed... well, the easiest explanation is a sort of nano."
"Nanos?" She relaxed, back on sure scientific footing again.
"Yes. And they combined it with some tricky bioengineering to create specialized nanos that act as a sort of benign parasite."
"Parasites?" Bastien definitely had her interest now, and Etienne felt his hopes rise that she would finally accept what was happening.
"Yes. They feed off the blood we produce."
"So it's a science experiment gone wacko," she clarified, relaxing a little when Bastien nodded. "But how did these nanos get into your people?"
"They were deliberately introduced," he admitted. "You see, they were engineered to reside in the bloodstream and to help repair damage done by injuries--rather like microscopic surgeons working from the inside, so to speak. But once these nanos were introduced to the bloodstream of our ancestors, it was found that not only did they repair tissue, they regenerated it as well, and fought illness."
"I see. So they repair and regenerate your body, in effect keeping you young and healthy, and in exchange then feed off blood?" she asked slowly.
"Exactly." Bastien smiled.
Rachel seemed to consider for a moment, then she commented, "I imagine it takes a good deal of blood to constantly repair and regenerate tissue."
"Yes," he admitted. "More than a normal human body can possibly produce."
"Hence the need for sucking neck," Rachel guessed.
Etienne cleared his throat, and everyone in the room gave a start.
"Well, don't look at me," he said irritably as they turned toward him. "That's not my phrase."
"We don't 'suck neck' anymore," Lissianna said soothingly. She moved to take up position on Rachel's other side. "It's true that in the past there was some necessity, and occasionally health issues or... er... phobias"--she glanced at Greg and the couple exchanged smiles--"have made one or two of our kind revert to the old ways. However, biting people has been frowned upon since the advent of blood banks."
"Blood banks." Rachel's eyes widened. "Jeez, they'd be like fast-food restaurants, a McDonald's for vampires."
"More like a deli than McDonald's. All cold cuts." Lissianna grimaced with distaste. She had been forced to "suck neck" up until recently due to a bad case of hemophobia. There was nothing more debilitating to a vampire than to be unfortunate enough to faint at the sight of blood--something Lissianna had suffered since childhood. She was cured now, but Etienne knew she was still trying to get used to cold bagged blood.
Rachel was silent, a look of distaste clear on her face. "And now I'm like you?"
Lissianna took her hand so that both she and Bastien held one. "Yes," she said solemnly. "Etienne turned you to save your life. You are now a vampire."
Rachel's shoulders slumped. "But I don't even like blood pudding or rare steak. If it's even the slightest bit pink, I gag. I'll never be able to--"
"That can all be worked around," Lissianna assured her. "If necessary, you can continue to take your blood intravenously as you have been."
Rachel didn't look much impressed. "My dentist is going to love this. The first time he does a set of X rays, he'll freak."
"That won't be a concern. You won't need to visit the dentist anymore," Bastien assured her.
"I won't?"
"No," Lissianna answered. "Or a doctor, either. You are now cavity-and illness-proof. The blood will see to that."
"No more flu shots or dentist drills?" Rachel asked.
Lissianna turned a triumphant smile on Etienne. "I knew you hadn't presented it properly. I bet you didn't tell her about the orgasms, either."
"I told her she'd live forever and never age. That should hold more sway than dentist or doctor visits," Etienne said irritably.
"Maybe to someone who's never had to suffer them," Rachel said distractedly. Then she asked, "Orgasms?"
"Well, that's my cue to leave." Greg picked up his glass and turned to the door. "When women start talking sex..."
Bastien patted Rachel's hand and stood as well. "Yes, this part is best left to the women, I should think."
"Hmm." Lucern grunted in agreement, but he really looked as if he would rather stay and take notes. He got reluctantly to his feet and headed for the door, approaching Etienne at the same time as Bastien. As if it were a shared thought--which it probably was--they each took him by an arm and dragged him to the door.
"Come along, little brother. You can show us the latest additions to your new game," Bastien said.
Etienne didn't protest. There was no use in doing so. Even being a vampire didn't help dealing with two overbearing brothers like Lucern and Bastien.
"Orgasms," Marguerite said as the door closed behind the men.
Rachel glanced at Etienne's mother. The woman--the much older woman, if she was really seven hundred and thirty-six years old--was smiling with wicked glee as she came to take Bastien's vacated seat. "You won't believe it."
Lissianna chuckled at her mother's enthusiasm, then explained, "Marguerite can explain better than I. I was born of vampires and never experienced a mortal sex life. But Mother started out human and was turned like yourself. According to her, the difference is mind-blowing." .
"I'll say." Marguerite ran her tongue over her front teeth and made an appreciative sucking noise. "I fainted every time for the first year."
"Fainted?" Rachel gaped. "The whole first year?"
"Oh, my dear!" Marguerite patted her hand. "The difference just can't be explained. It's overwhelming. You connect with your partner and experience his pleasure as well as your own combined."
"So, it's like twice the pleasure?" Rachel asked.
Marguerite shook her head. "More like twenty times. Somehow the blood increases sensitivity. Your sense of smell will be ten times better than ever, you'll be able to hear more, see farther, and you'll be extra sensitive to touch."
"Sex, twenty times better?" Rachel tried to wrap her mind around the idea but just couldn't. Perhaps it would have helped to have had more experience to draw on. Rachel hadn't expended a lot of time or effort on her social life the last few years. She had been engaged at University, but after catching her fianc¨¦ in bed with her roommate, she had concentrated most of her attention on work.
"Being more experienced wouldn't help, dear," Marguerite said sympathetically. "You'll understand once you've experienced what I'm talking about."
Rachel stared at the woman, uncertain, then cleared her throat and asked, "Did you just read my mind?"
"I'm afraid so." Marguerite bit her lip. "I am sorry. It's a bad habit. I'll try not to intrude on your thoughts in future."
Rachel shrugged. She'd just have to guard her thoughts. And she was more interested in other things at the moment. "Can I read minds now too?"
"Not yet. You'll have to learn to do it. There are many things you will have to learn."
"Like what?" she asked curiously.
Marguerite pondered. Rachel suspected she was trying to decide what wouldn't overwhelm her. Finally, the older woman said, "You'll find you're much stronger than you used to be. Quicker, both in body and mind. You'll be able to see better in the dark too."
"Like nocturnal predators," Rachel said.
"Yes. Your eyes will shine when light hits them in the dark, like those of a night animal."
Rachel raised her hand self-consciously toward her face and glanced from Marguerite to Lissianna. They both had silver-blue eyes. Etienne did too. "Are my eyes like yours now?" She hadn't really noticed when she'd looked in the mirror upstairs.
"More a silver-green color, dear," Marguerite judged. "The original color was green?"
"Yes." Now Rachel was curious to see.
She'd barely had the thought when Lissianna stood and moved to a purse resting on the bar. The blonde dug through it briefly, then turned back, a compact in her hand. Opening the compact, the young woman walked over. "I'm two hundred and two years old," she said, handing Rachel the mirror.
Rachel managed an embarrassed smile at having the unasked question answered, reminding herself she'd have to watch her thoughts around this family. Then she peered into the mirror to examine her eyes.
"Wow," she breathed. The concern over guarding her thoughts was quickly forgotten. Then she frowned. "This will be interesting to explain to my family."
Glancing up, she was just in time to catch the exchange of glances between mother and daughter. "What?"
Lissianna shook her head, but her smile was a little strained. "Claim they're contacts."
"Good thinking," Marguerite said. But the words were suspiciously hearty, and she got to her feet. "Now you should rest. You're tired."
Oddly enough, the moment the other woman said the words, Rachel did feel tired. She also had the inkling that reading minds might not be the only thing they could do.
"You can control minds," she accused.
"It's a useful trick that helped in the old days of hunting," Marguerite said calmly.
At least she didn't lie, Rachel thought with resignation. Then another thought struck her. "Was Etienne controlling my mind earlier?" She didn't specify those passionate moments in the bedroom, but she didn't have to. Marguerite could read her thoughts, after all.
"Luckily enough, Etienne is unable to either read your thoughts or control you," Marguerite said.
"Why is that lucky?" Rachel asked. She thought it was, but why did Marguerite?
"Because good life mates can't read or control each other. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a partnership. It would be a master and a puppet."
The comment was slightly confusing to Rachel, since she had just met them all and wasn't anyone's life mate, but another question came to mind. She asked, "How old is Etienne?"
"Three hundred and twelve."
"Three hundred and twelve," Rachel echoed. Her distress returned. The man was three hundred and twelve years old. She'd tried to jump an old man. He was a serious geriatric.
"Do not fret," Marguerite said. This time her voice was soft, whisper soft. Almost as if she hadn't spoken at all but breathed the words. Or merely thought them. "Ease yourself. Things will be less distressing after you rest."
"Yes." The word slipped from Rachel's mouth of its own accord. Not that Rachel much cared. The only thought in her mind was that she was weary and needed rest.
"Come," Marguerite said, getting to her feet. Rachel did as she was told.
"Brilliant!" Bastien grinned and slapped Etienne on the back as Etienne shut the program down. "This one will be an even bigger hit than the first." Lucern and Greg nodded.
"That good is it?"
All four men turned to the door in surprise at the sound of Lissianna's voice. Greg smiled at the sight of her and moved to her side, his arm slipping around her in welcome. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"All done explaining the delights of vampire sex to Rachel?"
"Hmm." She smiled and kissed him back, then turned to her brother. "She's enthralled, Etienne. We may have increased your chances."
"Ha ha." Etienne turned off the computer and stood. "Where is Mother?"
"She took Rachel upstairs to put her to bed."
Etienne laughed. "Tucking her in like a child?"
"She is a child," Lucern commented, leading the way out of Etienne's basement. "She's barely twenty-five."
"Nearly thirty," Etienne corrected.
"Still a child," Lucern said with a shrug.
"Everyone's a child to you, Lucern," Lissianna joked.
"Not everyone. Just everyone under four hundred."
"You mean everyone but you, Mother, Bastien, and maybe a hundred of the more ancient vamps in the world," Etienne said with disgust. At three hundred and twelve he was growing tired of being called a child. He even sometimes yearned to be human, to have a normal lifespan and family. But that feeling always passed.
"Well, what are we going to do about your friend Pokey?" Greg asked as they returned to the living room.
"Pudge," Etienne corrected.
"Your mother said his name was Pokey."
"She seems to have a mental block when it comes to his name."
"I've been thinking about it," Bastien spoke up. Everyone listened. When Lucern had chosen to pursue writing and other creative pursuits upon their father's death, rather than run the family businesses, it was Bastien who had taken on the mantle. They all respected him for it, and for the effort he went to on everyone's behalf. "As we discussed, since the hospital officials and police already think Pudge carried Rachel away with him, it would be expedient if we could persuade her to claim such. They would arrest him and put him away for kidnapping. Etienne must convince her to do this."
"A sound idea," Lucern commented. Arching an eyebrow at Etienne he asked, "Do you think you can?"
"I can try," Etienne decided. Then he smiled. "I'll have plenty of time to convince her while she's here."
"If she agrees to stay," Lissianna pointed out.
"She will."
"She isn't a stray dog, Etienne," Marguerite said dryly, entering the room. "You can't just keep her as you like."
"No, she isn't a stray dog," he agreed. "But she is one of us now."
"So?" Lissianna said. "Her being one of us doesn't mean you can keep her chained up. She'll most likely want to return to her own life."
"But she'll need to feed," he protested.
"Yes, she will," Bastien agreed. "And certainly we will make our blood bank open to her, if she needs it."
Etienne's head snapped in his brother's direction. "If she needs it? Of course she'll need it."
"Not necessarily," Greg commented. "She works in a hospital. She can probably take care of herself."
Etienne said nothing but felt his mouth tighten with displeasure. He didn't at all like the idea of losing her, and briefly struggled with the reasons behind it. He was thoroughly confused by his passion, for he hardly knew the woman and shouldn't feel so strongly about this--but he did. He'd like to think it had nothing to do with his body's passionate response to her when she had kissed him, or the pleasure he had felt when she'd crawled on top of him.
His gaze drifted to the door and the stairs visible beyond as his family continued to talk. Rachel would be asleep in his bed at that moment; his mother would have seen to that. It was for the best. Her body had suffered a good deal of trauma of late--a mortal wound, the turning, healing. And mentally she had been through the ringer as well. It couldn't be an easy thing to accept that your whole life had changed so abruptly.
Etienne frowned. His own life had taken a sudden unexpected turn along with hers, and he was feeling rather traumatized himself. Suddenly, he was faced with the care and concern of another being. The closest he'd felt to this was the protective nature of an older brother when Lissianna had been a child, but that hadn't been nearly as strong. He felt a connection to the woman sleeping in his bed, one he couldn't define or really understand. Perhaps it was because he had turned her, and that had created a bond he hadn't been warned of. Regardless, he felt his life was now interlaced with hers on many levels.
On the other hand, perhaps he simply needed to look into more of a social life. It couldn't be good for him to have gone celibate for so long.
"How long has it been?"
"Two or three decades," Etienne answered before he could catch himself. Then he glared. "It's rude to read other people's thoughts, Mother."
She merely smiled sweetly at him. Marguerite had a bond with each of her children, perhaps from birth. She had always been able to read their minds and such--a talent not reciprocal to her children. Each of them could read the thoughts of humans--or usually they could, Etienne corrected himself, recalling that Rachel's mind seemed sealed against him. They could also read each other's thoughts when they weren't guarded, which they usually were. But none of them could read Marguerite's.
"It's getting late and I have things to do," the woman announced, getting to her feet. "Besides, we should leave Etienne to consider how to convince Rachel to go along with the plan. We can meet to discuss this matter further tomorrow night."
Much to Etienne's relief, everyone else concurred. He saw them out, closed and locked the door, then made his way upstairs to his room, unable to prevent himself.
His houseguest slept with the innocence of a babe. As she lay there curled up under his blankets in his bed, there was absolutely nothing about her to suggest the mischievous, even lusty woman who hid beneath. Etienne smiled slightly at his recollection. Rachel was a firecracker, as her red hair suggested, and Etienne was very much enjoying the show. He could hardly wait for sunset to come and a new night to begin.