© Copyright 2005 A. Fraser and Jean Hontz. All rights reserved.
Adele awoke with a start. She was in Alex's bed. His corpse lay beside her.
She must have fallen asleep, and he hadn't awakened her.
She wasn't revolted over this development. But she was a bit shocked. If it were
her, she thought, she'd feel the need to barricade the door, and have it
chock-a-block with large locks and guarded by ... well, something! Here he was,
totally out of it. She could jump on the bed, scream, invite men in for an orgy
and there he'd lay. Not merely out of it, but entirely vulnerable. She
shuddered.
Maybe he had been fearful when he'd just been turned. Maybe he had needed safety
and cried himself to death each night. Maybe he had lain in terror when people
were more actively hunting down those who were different, when he didn't live on
Cliff Road with the Brotherhood to watch his back. Or...Or was there still some
dark part of his mind that drew him to leave himself vulnerable because he
didn't care if he died - really died? She shuddered at that thought. She hadn't
missed the worry the Brotherhood had for him. She knew that he did have bouts of
darkness and despair. Who didn't? But ... But what?
She looked at him as he lay there. He truly was handsome. In a cold sort of way.
It was his eyes that enlivened him for her. Grey. Moody. They were what she'd
first noticed about him. What she saw when she thought of him. What she ached to
see happy.
Was she using him? She'd been drawn to him because his mind was dead to her,
unlike the minds of most other beings. Was that why she was here? Taking secret
advantage of him? Yes, she decided, as a tear trickled down her cheek.
But then she hadn't expected to really care for him. She hadn't expected him to
care for her. He said he did. Did he? Really? Or was that just his way?
She'd expected this to be a bit like her relationship with Francis. Fun. No
complications. No hearts intertwined. No fear of betrayal or jealousy or too
much caring. Especially not that last. After all, he was a vampire. A totally
different beast. She a mere mortal. Surely he wouldn't want to tie himself to a
chit of a girl who was barely out of diapers.
"Oh, yes, you're that brat that tags around after Julian, I remember."
He'd said it in jest as she was teasing him, but it was, after all, true. More
tears.
She got up and found the moose robe. She wrapped herself in it pulling herself
into it as if she were a turtle hiding in her shell, as she stood there looking
down on him. This was a mistake. Wasn't it? What was she thinking? What was he
thinking? How could this work? It was fine to have a fling, to even have planned
weekends for light sex and fun. But a relationship?
"Oh, God."
She let herself out of his room and slowly climbed the stairs to her own room.
It was a sunny if cold day, the brilliant sunshine bouncing off the glistening
snow making her a bit light-headed and dizzy. The tears, she told herself, the
tears were refracting the sunlight even more than normal. But she'd never share
a sunrise with him... "Stop it," she told herself aloud and headed for the
shower.
It was Monday morning, Monday afternoon in Paris. She had to leave. She could
wait until after he wakened though. She hadn't even told him when she had to
leave. "Oh, God." She needed to talk to someone. If only Gen were in Paris.
Well, she might be. She might be visiting Jean. Was that a good idea? Maybe Gen
would tell her she was a fool and discourage her from seeing Alex. Maybe she'd
even be angry. Maybe she'd tell Adele to leave Alex be; that she was a foolish
little girl.
She was a fool! More tears.
She dressed in her jeans and sweatshirt, pulled her boots on (why hadn't she
thought to buy a pair of trainers), and walked glumly downstairs to breakfast.
Mrs. Jenkins didn't say anything this morning; just served breakfast. Adele
wondered if the old stick had gotten an eyeful last night. The housekeeper was
definitely not someone you could confide in.
"There's not one person in the Brotherhood who wouldn't help you if you were in
trouble or needed someone to talk to. And you don't have to hide what you are
with us."
Alex had said that, but Adele wasn't sure who exactly was the right person to
talk to. Definitely not Francis. Bess was back at school. Mary would be at work.
She put those feelings aside for the moment. She needed to go over to Fairlawn
and talk to Guy--and she felt she should apologize to Michael for her behaviour
the other night.
When she'd finished what breakfast she could manage, she asked, "Mrs Jenkins,
I'd like to go to Fairlawn. Is there a car I could borrow? I'd rather not
attempt the walk again in these boots."
"I'll drive you," Mrs J replied.
"No, I can drive."
"I have to go out anyway. I'm sure someone will bring you back when you want
to return."
Adele didn't have the energy to argue. She meekly put on Mitch's jacket as Mrs J
held it out for her. She meekly climbed into the passenger side of the car, and
she reluctantly climbed back out when Mrs J pulled up to the back door at
Fairlawn.
She turned to watch as the car crunched away toward town.
The back door opened and a blond head emerged. "I thought I heard a car,"
said Michael. "Good to see you wearing a few more clothes, though." His eyes
were twinkling.
"Michael, I'm so sor..."
He shook his head. "Don't bother," he smiled. "Come on in, have some coffee. I
take it you came over to speak to Guy?"
"Yes, if he's willing." She came into the warm, cozy kitchen. Ruddigore rushed
up to wag at her. Orlando stalked her footsteps. Fairlawn felt far more like a
real home than Valley Mansion did.
"I think he would be, in a more one on one situation. He's in the shower at the
moment, though, so you're stuck with me."
She made a fuss over Ruddi, briefly wondered where the other Orlando was and
what he was stalking, then sat and picked up the coffee. To her horror, a tear
trickled down her cheek. She was trained to hide her emotions. She'd once been
very very good at it. All the sudden she was a bloody mess.
"Want to talk about it?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Then she said, "No." Then she groaned. "Oh,
Michael. I'm such a fool."
He got up and came over to beside her. "No, you're not." He lifted her chin with
two of his fingers. "Is it Alex?"
She nodded again. "I'm so confused," she said. "I didn't expect... he wants... I
wanted... I didn't know..."
He held up a hand, laughing a bit at her rush of words. "Slowly," he said. "Why
don't I make us some tea, instead of coffee? Just sit here for a moment, okay?"
She nodded yet again, and accepted the box of tissues he found for her. He
slipped out of the kitchen. Probably gone to have a quick word with Guy, Adele
thought. Orlando jumped into her lap, purring. He didn't seem to mind her tears,
or his rather silly name. Michael was back in a moment, putting the kettle on,
reaching for the English Breakfast.
"Now," he said, when they had proper tea and some biscuits before them. "I've
assured us of privacy for as long as you want. Talk to me, Adele. And don't be
embarrassed--I've heard it all."
"It isn't.... He's told me he wants us to be... I mean.. Maybe he says that to
all women and I'm reading far more into this than he means? I mean, why would
he. I'm just... And he's ... And I'm so confused, Michael." Adele was hanging
onto her cup of tea with both hands. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears, her
face pale, her freckles standing out as a result. She looked very young and not
a little fragile.
Michael sighed. He wasn't sure if Adele wanted him to speak as a father, a
priest, a friend...
"Alex," he said, "has been alone for a long time. Loneliness is a chronic
condition among the Brotherhood--among anyone who is Other. I'm sure you've felt
it yourself. I won't deny that Alex has had a lot of women, and that he usually
treats them pretty badly. But most of them have been women who expect that.
You're different. What exactly did he say to you?"
"He wants..." she gulped. "He wants us to be... he wants more than just what I
had with Francis. More than just..." she blushed. "Sex," she whispered.
Michael didn't look embarrassed. "I am a married man, Adele," he said evenly.
"I'm familiar with the word."
"Oh." She squirmed. There were some things you didn't really like to think
about. "Why?" she asked. "I mean, why would he want a...relationship...with me?
I'm not beautiful or sexy like Maggie or Nimue; I'm too young..."
"Well, when you think about it, everyone is too young for a vampire," Michael
said. "And beautiful and sexy are in the eye of the beholder. If he wanted
someone like Maggie, he could have had her anytime. Maybe someone like you is
what he's looking for."
Adele suddenly giggled and wiped away the last of her tears. "No woman is too
young for Francis." She sighed. "I'm not thinking very clearly am I?"
Michael smiled. "No, I'm afraid not."
She looked at him earnestly. "I'm ... I know this sounds rather as if I'm full
of it, but I'm used to being the one in charge of my ... relationships. I can
see things, Michael, in normal men. I know what they expect, what they crave,
what they fear, who and what they hate. I've used that. Sometimes ruthlessly.
Mostly, it terrifies me to see their darkest thoughts. But with vampires, and
with some others, I can't see those things. It is wonderful, most of the time,
but it is terrifying sometimes too. Like now. "
She reached out and took his hand. She smiled, "I can't read you, don't worry.
I'm afraid I care a great deal about Alex. It's too soon to feel that. It's
silly. There isn't any such thing as love at first sight, so it must be merely
lust. Mustn't it?"
Before he could answer she said, "I know what Julian would tell me, so there's
no sense even asking him."
"What would he tell you?" Michael asked, in spite of himself.
She laughed. It was a far calmer and far happier sound than before. "He always
tells me the only way to really learn anything is to make a fool of yourself
about it. That holding back teaches you nothing, that risking yourself is the
only way forward."
"He's right," said Michael. "If you don't take risks, then you will never reap
the rewards. I can't think of anything to say that isn't a cliché; but I think
there's a line in a song that goes 'it's the heart afraid of breaking that never
learns to love.' Every single person who ever found a worthwhile love in their
life had to take that leap." He smiled as if at a fond memory. "And I,
personally, think there is such a thing as love at first sight."
"You and Mary?" she asked, enchanted.
"Straight out of a Harlequin," he laughed. "There I was, flat on my back in a
cast with tubes everywhere, and there she was, the administering angel...talk
about clichés. But I knew the moment she force-fed me Jell-o."
Adele smiled and shook her head. "I didn't know that. Thank you for telling me.
That's lovely. I can see it now!" She giggled. Then sobered suddenly, "Listen,
you won't tell Alex we talked? I mean, I don't want you to lie to him, but I'd
really rather he didn't know I was being such a ditzy airhead about this."
"Oh, I don't know, Alex might find that appealing," Michael said laughing. "But
Alex won't hear a word from me." He gave Adele a hug. "I am a priest, after all.
The rest of the Brotherhood might gossip like old ladies; but what you tell me
stays here." He tapped his heart region.
"Oh, Michael. You've no idea how I've longed for someone I could really talk to.
Thank you so much. You've really helped me put things in a bit better
perspective. Obviously I really need to stop trying to think through this and
just let it happen. I'm not sure I have much choice in it anyway. It all seems
to be moving along on its own, and I doubt Alex feels much more in control. So,
I guess we might as well just enjoy it."
--------
When Alex made his way to the den that evening, he found Adele stretched out on
the floor, surrounded by books. These were right-side up. He wasted a moment to
wonder what Mrs Jenkins would think if she saw this.
Adele had a notepad and was writing some sort of to do list or something.
She looked up at him and smiled happily at him. His heart, if he had a
functioning one, would have turned over.
"What are you doing?" he asked, sinking down on his haunches to look more
closely.
"Oh," she said, using the back end of the pen to curl some of her hair into
ringlets as she frowned in concentration. "I'd forgotten I'd promised to make a
decision this weekend. Oh, goddess, I can't decide."
He moved to sit on the floor next to her and saw that all the books showed
ancient buildings. There was Athens, and Rome, and some buildings he wasn't that
familiar with but that might be on some island in the Med. Another one he
recognized instantly. It was one of the myriad buildings in Venice that were
constantly under restoration.
"I've got to decide what I'm going to do this summer," Adele explained. "I've
been studying Art History without any particular intention of doing anything
with it, but my current professor has been trying to convince me I'd really love
restoring decrepit old things to their former glory." She stopped and giggled.
"Decrepit old vampires aren't included in the curriculum so don't go all Gidsy
on me, okay? Now, where was I... Oh, yes. There are several places he's
suggested I work. These are them. I've never been to Malta, so I'm sort of
leaning that way. But I love Venice too. And of course Athens is so beautiful."
She frowned down at everything.
"And do you have a favourite professor who is doing one of these? Or one you
don't like?" Alex asked.
"Well, that's the downside of Malta. He's a pig. He seems to think a girl can't
wield a power tool as easily as a man."
Alex suddenly had this vision of Adele, dressed in short shorts and a sleeveless
shirt, a bandana around her head holding her hair back, her tongue stuck out of
one corner of her mouth, all sweatily glowing (post coital glows came to mind)
and concentrating on wreaking havoc with a power saw. (Of course, the workplace
safety officer would have had a fit at this vision, but Alex cheerfully edited
out necessities like steel-toed boots and hard hats.)
She interrupted his bemused reverie with, "Anyplace you'd like to go this
summer? I was sort of hoping I could drag you out of Maine to come visit me
whilst there."
"Do you like the professor in Venice?" he asked.
"Yes, she's great."
"Do you think anyone would mind you staying in a luxurious villa on a private
island just outside of Venice?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I own a small island," he said, opening up a book to a map of Venice and area.
"This one." He pointed at an incredibly tiny dot. "I have a villa, La Casa di
Fontani."
"The House of Fountains?" she asked. Then she blinked. "You _own_ a villa in
Venice? And you didn't tell me?"
"You didn't ask."
She laughed and launched herself at him. He caught her in his arms and began
laughing with her. It was hard not to. "Oh, Alex. How wonderful." They were
rolling on the floor, Adele trying to see if she could tickle him (they were
mostly clothed), when Mrs Jenkins came in to announce dinner. She did not look
amused.
Adele struggled to regain - sort of - her dignity as Alex helped her up. She
straightened her sweatshirt and pushed her hair out of her face then took Alex's
proffered arm and they marched funereally behind Mrs Jenkins toward the dining
room. Adele was making sour faces at the back of her head.
As they sat at dinner, Adele did become serious. "Alex, I'm afraid I have to
leave tonight. I've got to be at class tomorrow." She didn't sound very happy to
tell him this.
He didn't look very happy, either. "Well, you did warn me," he said. "But I was
hoping we'd have a bit more time for the getting to know you stage."
"Well, I had no idea when I agreed to come that I was going to ...well..." Then,
looking very mischievous she was saying, "I'd say we know each other pretty
thoroughly in the Biblical sense," deliberately loudly as Mrs. Jenkins brought
in a plate.
The housekeeper sniffed with disapproval as she served Adele dinner--pork chops,
this time--and poured Alex his liquid protein diet drink.
"Permanently on the Atkins plan," he said, taking a sip.
Adele coughed up a piece of potato. But her humour disappeared fairly quickly.
"I'm really sorry to have to leave," she said and meant it.
He smiled and took her hand. "We have time," he said. "And I know that you're
not friendless and alone in Paris. Grandmere will look after you."
"Why do I have the feeling that she'd behead you if she heard you call her
that?"
"Actually, I think she would dump me in the Seine weighed down with silver
chains and a large anchor."
Adele started to laugh, but her lip trembled. "This is harder than I thought,"
she said.
"It's not goodbye," said Alex. "We will see each other again soon. That's a
promise. I have business affairs in France; I may travel there soon. And you are
welcome here anytime. We have a whole summer in Venice to look forward to.
There's _time_ Adele. Okay?"
"O...Okay. But summer seems endless days off. There is spring vacation. Do let
me know where you are. If you're here I'll come..." She hesitated, then added,
"If you want me to. Although my reputation will be ruined. 'Where did you spend
your vacance, Adele? We were at Cap d'Antibes. Where did you go?' 'Oh, I visited
my hunky boyfriend in Maine.' Alas," she finished with a devilish grin. "But
they will ask me about the hunky boyfriend, and I shall only smile
mysteriously."
"You can always say you were investigating old ruins in New England," Alex
suggested.
"That's not funny!"
"Of course I want you to come here during spring vacation. Or I could come to
Paris. Jean has a spare bedroom. Or we could go visit Gen in the Loire. And
there are weekends; although I do appreciate that you might actually have to
study. We can work around this, Adele,"
"How can you be so reasonable!"
"I will miss you," he said. "But if you quit school for me, not only will Julian
have my head, but I would never forgive myself."
She leaned over and put her hands on either side of his face and looked him in
the eye. "For a fellow who's been around as long as you have, you have a lot to
learn about women." She kissed his nose, then removed her hands and went back to
dinner.
"I refuse to stop whinging about things. It is my right and I claim it. And I
shall write you letters, long mournful ones, full of tales of the parties and
the classes and the experiences I have in Paris. But I shall keep my grades to
myself. And when we can we will visit, wherever we can manage. All right?" she
asked with a smile. "But you've got to promise me you won't leave me for Mrs
Jenkins."
"Damn," he said. "Can I at least have a mad, passionate affair with her?"
"No, sorry."
"All right, as long as you promise the same about Jean."
She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass for some time then said, "I
promise. Anyone else?"
Alex met her look, equally steadily. There probably wasn't a right answer, he
thought glumly. If he said that he didn't care if she saw other men, he'd be
lying and she'd be hurt; if he said she couldn't see anyone else, she'd call him
a sexist pig and say he didn't own her.
Women! They should come with some sort of manual.
"Yes," he said, "every single other male that walks the face of this planet. I
fly into jealous rages, you know. Anyone else besides Mrs. Jenkins?"
She flushed and then her eyes narrowed. She replied steadily "Yes. In that case,
all women, alive or undead. I'm a witch, so I wouldn't advise cheating. Bargain?
Shall we shake on it?" She held out her hand.
"Bargain," he said, shaking her hand. Then, as she squealed in mock alarm, he
pulled her up off her chair and into his arms. "Silly girl," he said, just
before locking her lips shut with his. "As if I'd look at another woman after
you."
"Hold that thought," she said. And vanished.
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