Cafe in the Park (Siren Publishing Classic) (10 page)

“I already love you. I want you to know that.” He said the words against her mouth.

She kissed him and he closed his eyes.

His cell phone woke him with its distinctive musical ringtone. He reached out a hand to the table by the bed where he’d left the phone and felt around for it.

“Chris Donato.”

“Chris, sound check in one hour downtown at the Paradiso Club.” Art’s voice held a tone of amusement.

Chris blinked. “Didn’t know it was so late. Be down in ten minutes.”

Emily had woken as he spoke and stretched out alongside him, pressed along his body.

He stroked her hair from her face and bent to kiss her cheek. “I have to get going. We have a sound check and then the rehearsal. You’re not going to believe the time. It’s after midday. Emily, stay as long as you want. Flip the lock down on the front door when you leave.” He talked as he stroked her face. “Come to the gig tonight, please. It’s in the Paradiso downtown. We go on at ten thirty, but we only have a short set, there are other bands.”

Emily smiled. “Are you leaving right away? I can dress and go home so that you can lock the place with the alarm. I should go. I have Saturday chores to do. We slept for a long time.” She climbed out of bed.

Chris shook his head. “No, don’t go until you’ve had coffee.” He pulled on clothes, more black jeans, and a T-shirt. He looked around for boots and jammed his feet in them. He saw her hesitate to put on her panties and then pull them on. “I can give you a pair of shorts if you want.”

Emily beamed at him. “You don’t seem to wear any.”

Chris strode over to her. He zipped her dress. He smiled and kissed her neck before he rushed into his bathroom. He checked himself in the mirror as he cleaned his teeth. Dark shadows had gone from under his eyes. He grinned as he threw his toothbrush in the glass on the sink.
This is so great.

Emily was waiting for him. She’d pushed her hair behind her ears. Her dress was crinkled at the hem. She smiled at him.

He took her hand. “Emily, are you sure you don’t want to shower, take your time?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll have coffee if you’re making it and then scat home. I need clean clothes after I shower.” She offered her mouth for a kiss.

Chris crushed her to his chest and kissed her. “Mmm, I’ll miss you every minute until I see you again.”

They found Art in the kitchen.

“Good day. Coffee is made. Chris, there’s a slice of steak in the fridge if you’d like breakfast. I’ll go bring the car round.”

Emily watched him go and then turned to Chris. “You don’t have time to cook steak, surely. Oh, does Art do housekeeper stuff, too? I thought he might have his own kitchen in his apartment.”

Alarmed, Chris tried to cover the mistake. “Art does have his own kitchen. When we’re going out to work, he’ll often come down for coffee. We spend time together sometimes, that’s why there’s cola in the fridge.” He blocked the fridge with his body, hoping Emily wouldn’t need anything from it. He knew the slice of steak would be raw. It would be a little treat to eat as Art drove him downtown. Emily wouldn’t understand that he sometimes ate his meat raw. He panicked…How long could he hide his true nature?

Emily poured coffee into the two squat mugs that Art had left by the percolator. She handed one to Chris. “I saw you take it black like me.”

Relief flooded Chris. She wouldn’t need to go to the fridge. He took the coffee and couldn’t resist kissing her quickly.

They left the house together. Chris held her hand and then kissed her through her open car window. “See you tonight. If you come about ten-thirty, the guys on the door will let you in.”

Emily nodded. “Okay, see you then.” She drove away.

Chris looked at the disappearing vehicle for a moment or two, then joined Art in the SUV. “She’s my dream come true, Art. I’m already in love with her.”

Art grunted. He started the car. “I sincerely hope she loves you back.”

* * * *

Chris had everything he needed in a grip bag. He carried it and a cased guitar into the club through the back entrance. Phil, the other “roadie” met them with equipment in the van. They didn’t need all the usual stuff. There were massive speakers and microphones in situ. The band members already sat around. They greeted Chris as he walked over to them in the main club room. After the sound checks and the rehearsal, they would either go their own way for a few hours or eat together in a nearby restaurant. Chris could eat cooked food. He liked to stick to vegetables. Cooked meat often lay heavy in his stomach and he couldn’t eat dairy. He would join the band that evening to eat out as a friendship gesture, but his heart thrilled when he thought about Emily arriving at ten-thirty.

* * * *

He finally saw Emily in the crowded room. The band was on its second song and Chris had been scanning the audience since he came on stage. His fretting over her arrival lent pathos to his singing in the first ballad and the applause after was so loud the other band members grinned and bowed.

Chris smiled as he and the lead singer shared the chorus in the second song. The two front rows of young women surged forward. He smiled again, at them this time.

Emily stood to one side holding a bottle of spring water.

Chris couldn’t help gazing at her. She looked so pretty. She was his.

She gazed back at him and he could read the love in her expression.

He didn’t have a vocal part in the band’s last song, and he edged toward the exit as he played the guitar, so he could leave the stage as quickly as possible. As the crowd applauded, he brought the strap of his guitar over his head and propped the instrument against the crates in the wings where the band had left stuff.

He walked along the short corridor to enter the main club room and froze in astonishment. There, waiting in the shadows, was Veronique. He’d know her anywhere, even after three centuries. She hadn’t changed at all, except for her modern clothing and hairstyle. She smiled at him. Chris’s heart flipped, not with pleasure, but with anxiety. How could she have survived this long? What did she want?

Veronique smiled at him and came close. She put her hand on his arm.

“Hello, sweetness. This must be a surprise for you. It’s so good to see you.”

Chris tried to shake her hand from his arm, but she clung onto him.

“Surprise is an understatement. How the hell are you still alive?” His voice shook with anger. He recalled his search for her and the pain he’d felt when she just disappeared from his life. That was long gone and she was the last person he wanted to see.

Veronique let out a small sound, something close to a mew. “Oh, Chris, it sounds as if you aren’t pleased to see me. I gained a longer life from you, chéri. Your love bites gave me longevity. Come now, you enjoyed making love with me. We can pick up where we left off. I know you searched for me long ago.”

Cold anger washed over Chris. “I stopped loving you long ago, so very long ago, Veronique. I’m shocked that you lived. Shocked my love bite would do that. Astounded you think we can pick up where we left off. Please, leave me alone.”

He tried again to shake her off and took a few steps onto the dance floor. It was still dark in that part of the club, but colored spotlights swept over them every few seconds. Chris looked around for Emily. He pulled at Veronique’s fingers, trying to free himself from her viselike grip. It seemed she had gained strength, too, from his love bite. The sudden question of if he’d made her a mountain lion froze him in the glare of a blue light, and he saw Emily only paces away. She stared at him with worry etched on her face. He looked away as the light moved on.

Veronique turned to follow his gaze.

Chris saw her smug expression. She must have seen Emily watching.

“Get off me, Veronique. What do you want from me?” Chris looked down at her hand on his arm pointedly. Then his trepidation turned to horror as she leapt on him, held him around the neck, and kissed him. He caught her of course. It was instinctive, but then he dropped her. “Stop it.”

She slid her feet to the floor and stepped back.

He guessed she’d timed her leap when she glanced quickly around at where Emily had been standing.

“Chris, I’ve fallen on hard times. You don’t want me, but can you take pity, spare me a little money to eat, to find somewhere to sleep the night?” she wheedled.

Chris ran his hand over his forehead. “Of course, I wouldn’t see you hungry. I’m sorry to hear this.” He looked around.
Where’s Art?
Art always carried the cash and quite a lot, too. There’d be five hundred dollars he could give to Veronique if he found Art.

He stared around with a heavy heart. Emily was nowhere to be seen. He sighed. “Come with me. One of the roadies carries money for us.” He wasn’t about to tell her who Art was. That might put Art in jeopardy. “You have longevity. You appear strong and healthy. Are you still fully human?” He saw her smile become flirtatious and nausea filled him.

“Why Chris, do you need a mate?”

Chris looked down at the floor rage making him shake.
She knows very well I don’t ‘mate’ that I never make love as anything but a human.
“Just answer the question. Are you human?”

Veronique nodded. “I’m human. I’m just stronger. I don’t age or get sick.” She shrugged.

The relief that she at least wasn’t a mountain lion made him sag against the club wall. He looked past her for Emily.
Where is Art?
Thank heaven, Art was coming toward them…with a thunderous expression on his face. He approached and stood there staring at Chris.

Chris sensed the waves of confusion and worry vibrating from his dear friend.

“Art, I’ll explain later, but do you have cash on you. I need it.” He watched Art’s eyebrows raise and then the man reached into his jacket and took out a thick wad of bills. He offered the lot to Chris.

Chris took it. “Thank you.” He turned to Veronique. “Take this. I hope you get back on your feet soon, but, Veronique, I’m not available. I don’t want to see you again.”

She grabbed the wad of money, turned, and strolled off.

Art watched and then turned to Chris. “Who the bloody hell is that? Emily’s gone. Dashed off. I tried to stop her. She saw you cuddling this woman. She said she couldn’t stay.”

Chris slumped. “Oh no, Art, if I lose Emily I don’t think I can take it. It will kill me. That woman was from long ago. I have no feelings for her, other than shock she found me.” He looked around distraught.

Art sighed. “Go after Emily. Shift on the roof and track her. She’s more than likely gone home. You know where that is. I’ll take care of everything here and pick up your clothes from the roof. The fire escape is on the side of the building to the left. It leads all the way to the roof. This one might be a bit too high to leap.”

Chris hugged Art.

Art was visibly amused.

Chris took off across the dance floor and out the club door. He already scented Emily, in the foyer, on the pavement, and he tracked her to a small square of waste ground that served as a car parking lot. He stood in the space where her car had been and thrust his hands in his pockets.

He’d try her home. He walked hunched over with sadness to the club and down the alley to the left of the building. The fire escape was a wide metal stair that led to two landings and doors in the building, and then the roof. Chris leapt the last few steps and walked into the center of the roof. A covered stairwell provided a way into the club again. Art must have checked this out Chris reasoned. He stripped off his jeans and T-shirt, shucked off his boots, and stood naked for a few seconds before he shifted with a ripple of motion into a pale golden mountain lion.

He sniffed the air. Summer might be on the wane. There was rain in the atmosphere again. The heavy metallic smell of pollution made him cringe and twitch his nose. He took his bearings and then sprang into action.

Chris leapt the rooftops until he was on the route to Emily’s home. He couldn’t enjoy the journey as the lion. His heart ached, heavy with worry that Emily might not want him anymore. He tried to imagine what Emily would have thought when she saw him holding Veronique who’d had her legs wrapped around his waist and her mouth pressed to his. She’d think he was a sexual predator, that he’d got what he wanted from her, and moved on to another woman. He snarled as he ran.

When he landed on Emily’s roof garden with a thud, he knew immediately she was there. Her scent filled his head. He froze and dropped to the tiles. He guessed she’d heard him when she rose abruptly, and stood near the chair she’d been sitting on, looking around. She’d been crying. He could almost taste her tears, the scent was so vivid. His heart contracted in sorrow.
Emily, my love.

He couldn’t shift and reveal himself. He bowed his head low. His chin scraped the tiles. His ears flattened on the sides of his massive head. His tail wrapped around his back legs in submission. He shuffled forward, inch after inch, his stance exuding his sorrow, his body made as small as he could. The roof tiles eased his slide to Emily. He daren’t look at her, only to the side. The scent of flowers mingled with the night air here. Pollution gone, Emily’s scent, and her flowers soothed his ragged breath, and he purred.