Confessions of a Vampire's Girlfriend (32 page)

She paused for a moment at the mention of Tibolt, sighed heavily, then shook her head and reached for the electric teakettle she had plugged in earlier. “I wouldn't quite call myself a queen of dating—just someone who has learned a few good tips over the centuries. First, you naturally want to ensure that your date worships you as is your due.”

“Uh . . .” I thought about Ben arguing with me.

“That is not a problem with Benedikt, as you are his Beloved.”

That had me laughing a little as I sipped the cup of Earl Grey she set down in front of me. “I may be his Beloved, but I don't think
worship
is the word I'd use about his feelings. More like pushy and bossy, although admittedly really, really hot.”

“That aside, you must remember what you are owed. Allow him to open doors for you, and pull out your chair. Beyond that, just smile. If something doesn't please you, don't ruin the evening by whining—just keep smiling and ignore the problem. And above all, don't resist if Benedikt wishes to give you a memento of the evening.”

I opened my mouth to tell her there was no way I'd do half the stuff she said, but stopped because I knew she was trying to be helpful. “Memento?” I asked, instead. “What sort of memento? Like a picture or something?”

“Oh, goodness no. Something sparkly,” she answered, absently turning the sapphire tennis bracelet on her wrist. “Benedikt has excellent taste in jewelry. You may trust him to pick out something that will be in style for many, many years.”

I choked on my tea at the thought of letting Ben buy me jewelry. He'd already given me his mother's ring, and my mother just about had a hissy at that. I couldn't imagine what she would do if he gave me anything sparkly. Not to mention I wasn't a sparkly kind of girl.

“Well, thanks for that advice. It's very helpful,” I said without even giggling, getting up to set my cup in the tiny sink. “I have to run now. I'm hoping to catch Talullah before she goes to town. Let me know if you need help with Ben.”

“You'll remember what I said?” she asked, coming to the door as I hurried down the couple of steps.

“Absolutely. Sparkly. Smile. No whining.”

She beamed back at me. “It'll be a lovely date, Fran. I just know it will.”

I was a bit less optimistic, but I still waved cheerily to her as I trotted toward Talullah's trailer. Soren was still busy, so I was on my own with Talullah.

Even though she was older than my mother, Talullah had a little blue Vespa that she used to zoom around wherever we were staying, strapping Wennie the pug into a basket on the front of the scooter so he wouldn't fall out and get run over.

I found her just leaving her trailer, her shopping bag tucked under one arm, Wennie in his lightweight travel jacket in the other.

“Good morning,” she said, her black eyes carefully looking me over. “I see you have your ghosts under control at last.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't know they were going to cause any trouble.” I'd given up trying to get everyone to realize the ghosts didn't belong to me. Evidently everyone, including the Vikings themselves, thought they did. “I'm sorry you were attacked with peaches.”

She looked at me silently for a moment, then turned back and opened the door to her trailer. “You wish for me to conduct a reading.”

“Yeah, if you don't mind. I know you're about to leave, but I promise it won't take long.”

“I am happy to help you,” she said primly, and sat on a bench couch that was almost identical to ours. “You have been troubled of late. I have not been pleased to see that. You are young, too young to be burdened with the cares you have.”

“Like Viking ghosts?” I asked, taking a seat when she waved toward the opposite end of the couch. Tallulah was a Gypsy queen—at least, that's what my mother said—and looking at her I could believe it. It was hard to tell exactly how old she was, although her jet-black hair had a streak of white slightly off center. It wasn't her appearance that always made me feel slightly uncomfortable, like I'd been called into the principal's office to find out what I was in trouble for . . . it was the natural dignity and grace that she wore almost as an aura that made me believe the rumors that she had been a powerful queen in a Romany tribe, but had abdicated to lead a quieter life.

“Pfft,” she said, pulling out a small flat black bowl. Its surface was mirrored, so shiny I could see the details of every line in her face as she set it down before her. “The ghosts are not what is troubling you. Your auras are muddy, but I can see that at least one thing is giving you much concern.”

“One?” I would've thought there'd be two—Ben and Tesla—but then I realized I wasn't really worried about Ben anymore. I knew he would recover just fine. “Yeah, I guess just the one thing. But—auras? Plural? I thought I just had one?”

“That is a common misconception. You can manifest up to five auras under the right circumstances, but most people only show three. Have you never been to the aura photography booth?”

I shook my head. “I never really wanted to know.”

One of her eyebrows rose in question. “I see. Well, I will save you the trouble by telling you now that your inner aura is white, indicating purity and chasteness, your middle aura is blue, indicating dissatisfaction with something in your life, and your outer aura is a sharp red, all of which tells me that you have a pure heart, are on the beginning of a path to enlightenment, but your energies now are focused on the problem which troubles you.”

“Tesla,” I said, sighing.

“Ah, your horse that was stolen?” She nodded and tilted the shallow black mirror bowl so she could look into it. “Let us consult Sir Edward and see what he has to say about Tesla.”

When Mom first dragged me to the GothFaire a month ago—committing us to traveling around with them for half a year—I made the big mistake of asking Tallulah why she didn't use a crystal ball like a normal medium. Her response still made me squirm uncomfortably—she had pinned me back with a glare and said in a voice that had the faintest touch of an accent, “I am
not
normal. Normal is for lesser people.”

Although I didn't diss normal the way she did, I couldn't dispute the fact that she seemed perfectly happy the way she was. I watched her now as she hummed softly to herself, swaying slightly, her eyes fixed on the bowl. It never failed to amaze me how normal everyone looked on the outside, but inside they had some really jaw-dropping abilities.

“Sir Edward is with us,” she said suddenly in a singsong voice.

“Oh, good. Hi, Sir Edward.”

A little breeze whispered by me. I got goose bumps from it even knowing that Sir Edward was a good spirit.

“He is pleased to see you, although he, too, notes that you are troubled, and is displeased by that.”

“Sorry about that. I'll try to be less . . . er . . . troubled.”

The Sir Edward breeze gently touched my face. “He wishes to help you with your troubles. What do you wish to ask him?”

“I want to know where Tesla is. I want to know who took him, and why, and whether Tesla is OK.”

The breeze caressing me stilled for a moment, then went whipping past me with enough velocity to ruffle my hair.

“Oh,” Tallulah said, her eyes distant and unseeing as she maintained her trance by staring into the bowl.

“Uh . . . oh?”

“Yes. Sir Edward is distraught. He is not making sense. One moment while I commune with him.”

I sat quietly while she stared into the bowl. The only sound in the trailer came from Wennie as he snored, stretched out on his belly next to her.

“Ahhhh,” Tallulah said on a long sigh, blinking as she came out of the trance. She set the bowl down and gave me a long look.

Despite my best intentions, tears pricked behind my eyes. Something was wrong with Tesla. I just knew it. “He's hurt?”

She shook her head.

I swallowed back a big lump in my throat and croaked out the next word. “Dead?”

“No. Fran, do not weep. I do not know how Tesla is—Sir Edward could not see him.”

“He couldn't?” I sniffed and used the back of my hand to wipe off a couple of sneaky tears. “Why couldn't he see him? I thought Sir Edward was a scout or something.”

“Guide, he is a spirit guide, which means he exists in the Akashic Plain and can see all, but this even he could not divine.”

“Why?” I felt slightly better, although my worry level increased a few hundred notches.

“He said the vision of Tesla was blocked, hidden by a being much more powerful than he had seen before.”

My skin crawled. I swear it positively crawled up my arms. “What sort of a being?”

“Sir Edward did not know. It was not a being he has encountered before.” The look she gave me was long and full of unspoken warning. “But he did say the being seems to have great power, and it would be the sheerest folly for you to pursue it. I'm afraid for all intents and purposes that your horse is lost to you, Fran. To attempt to regain it from this being would likely result in your death.”

T
here's nothing that ticks me off more than being told I can't do something. I'm not talking about obviously stupid things like walking out in front of a moving semi truck, but things like “Don't stay up late on a school night,” “Don't go swimming right after eating,” and most of all, “Don't try to get your elderly horse back from the weirdo being who stole him from you.”

I'm not an idiot, however. “If Sir Edward was scared by Mr. Laufeyiarson—assuming he was the one who stole Tesla, and it's not likely he is a coincidence—then that meant Mr. Laufeyiarson isn't what he appeared. Then again, who
is
around here?”

Soren nodded. We were perched on a fallen tree, watching Bruno graze by the light of the afternoon sun. I had a few painful minutes when I had a little pity party about Tesla not being there, but one thing I've learned—crying about something seldom makes it change. Therefore, it was up to me to find Tesla, and get him back.

“That's true.” Soren chewed one of the curried chicken sandwiches I'd made for us both, picking out the bits of celery, which he didn't like. “But if a ghost is scared of him . . . well, that says something, right?”

“Kind of. It says I'm going to need some help getting Tesla back.” I popped a couple green grapes in my mouth and wondered whether Ben really was going to be well enough to go on the date tomorrow night. I'd already done the angsting over my wardrobe—I had exactly one skirt—and managed to beg a little spending money from Mom for a trip into town. “But that's one of the benefits of having a vampire for a boyfriend. Ben will help me tackle Mr. Laufeyiarson. They had something going on earlier, when he tried to buy Tesla. Ben never did tell me what Laufeyiarson said to him.”

“Maybe Benedikt is in on the theft,” Soren said, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe that was a setup.”

“Why do you insist on calling Ben by his full name?” I asked, tipping my head to the side to look at Soren. “Imogen does, but she's his sister, and you know how it is with family. But no one else calls him Benedikt. Well, OK, my mom does sometimes, but she has that whole mom thing going on. Why do you do it?”

Soren shrugged and looked away. “When are you going into town?”

“As soon as Imogen is ready.” I smiled to myself about the quick change of subject. “You want to come?”

“I should give Bruno another bath, but he had one three days ago,” Soren said, looking indecisive for a moment. “Meh. I will go with you two. If Papa is mad, he's mad. It's not as if he can fire me.”

“
Vive la résistance
,” I said, having watched an old black-and-white movie called
Casablanca
the other night with Imogen.

“
Ja
. What did Tibolt say about the necklace?”

I stuffed the last bit of sandwich in my mouth and dusted off my hands before pulling out the pendant from where it lay beneath my T-shirt. “He didn't. I couldn't find him this morning. Ramon said he was off communing with the gods, which Mikaela snarked meant he was working on his tan. I didn't want to disturb him, so I'll just catch him tonight.”

“Snarked?” Soren's face wrinkled as he tried to figure out the word.

“It means said snarkily. You know, kind of smart-ass. Not quite mean, but not nice, either. Snarked.”

“Ah. You are good for my vocabulary.” He tossed a couple of grapes in the air and tried to catch them in his mouth. They bounced off his face and rolled into the grass. “If all he is doing is lying in the sun, you could ask him to take the necklace back.”