Dead Perfect (13 page)

“Do you think…?”

“As I said, I have to go.” She rose, indicating the interview was over.

“Of course.” Hewitt’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you for your time.”

“Yes,” Overstreet said, rising, “thank you.”

She watched the two men descend the stairs and get into the Honda parked at the curb. She wished suddenly that Ronan had been there. He would have known what to do. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, but doubts assailed her. Had she said something wrong? Did they know she was a fraud? Would they reveal it to the whole world? What would Ronan do if Hewitt and Overstreet splashed the truth on the front pages of their respective newspapers? And did it really matter? She didn’t understand why he wanted to remain anonymous, or why he had arranged such an elaborate charade.

Well, there was no sense worrying about the consequences now. It was over and done and whatever happened now, she’d had a wonderful time in New York. She’d had a chance to experience life as a celebrity, and she liked it. She had been wined and dined by Ronan’s editor and agent, and she had liked that, too. And she’d had the opportunity to see a play on a New York stage. Humming the
Beauty and the Beast
theme song, she picked up the cake plates and went into the house to help her mother with dinner.

Ronan appeared just as her mother was serving dessert later that night.

“I’m beginning to think you’re afraid to try my cooking,” Verna said with a pout. “You’ve missed every meal since you got here, but you’re not getting away without trying my Dutch apple pie. Now you just sit down and try this and tell me if it isn’t the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted.”

Ronan sat down beside Shannah and forced a smile. “I don’t eat many sweets, so I’m really not much of a judge.”

“Go on with you now, I’ve never met a man yet who didn’t love my apple pie.”

Ronan glanced at Shannah, but no help was forthcoming in that direction.

“Mom really does make the best apple pie,” she said, her voice filled with pride and affection. “I think you’ll like it.”

“She won’t stop nagging until you try it,” Mr. Davis said with an affectionate glance at his wife. “But you won’t be sorry. She does make the world’s best pie.”

Ronan nodded helplessly. He hadn’t eaten solid food in centuries, but there was no way to avoid it now without hurting Verna’s feelings. Still, the very thought of ingesting mortal cuisine made him cringe.

“We missed you today,” Shannah was saying, unaware of his growing unease. “Where did you go?”

“I had some business to take care of,” Ronan replied. But he wasn’t looking at Shannah. He was watching her mother as she cut a huge slice of apple pie.

“Do you want some vanilla ice cream with that?” Verna asked.

He shook his head, his nostrils filling with the scent of apples and cinnamon, sugar and flour. His stomach clenched.

“A slice of cheese, perhaps?” Verna asked.

“No, thank you.”

Verna set the plate before him, then stood beside his chair, her arms crossed over her chest. “Just try that,” she said, “and tell me it isn’t the best pie you’ve ever tasted.”

Feeling like a man about to knowingly swallow poison, Ronan picked up a fork and took a small bite. He chewed the disgusting mess and forced himself to swallow. It was all he could do not to gag.

“Well?” Verna asked expectantly.

“It’s…” He swallowed again. “It’s very good.”

Verna cut a slice for Scott, one for Shannah, and one for herself. “Would you like a glass of milk or a cup of coffee, Ronan?”

“No,” he said, his voice sounding oddly strangled. “Thank you.”

“Shannah?”

“Milk, thanks.”

“Coffee for me,” Scott said.

“Ronan, we had company today,” Shannah said.

“Oh?” Feeling Verna’s expectant gaze, Ronan choked down another bite of pie.

“Jim Hewitt and Carl Overstreet came to see me.”

Ronan coughed into his napkin. “What did they want?”

“I’m not sure. Mostly, they asked about you.”

“Me?” He was going to die, now, tonight, he thought ruefully. He had survived for centuries, only to be done in by a slice of homemade apple pie.

Shannah nodded, thinking that he looked rather odd. “They wanted to know where you were and when we were going back home.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That you were in the city on business. You don’t think they suspect that I’m a fraud, do you?”

“You’re not a fraud,” he said, his voice tight. He took another bite of pie, then pushed away from the table. “Excuse me,” he said, and fled the room, and the house.

“Oh, dear,” Verna said, “I hope he isn’t sick. You don’t think it was the pie, do you?”

Scott shrugged. “I don’t think so, Mother. This is my second piece and it tastes fine to me.”

“I’ll just go make sure he’s all right,” Shannah said. Leaving the table, she went in search of Ronan.

She found him in the furthest corner of the backyard on his hands and knees being violently ill. Chewing on her lower lip, she waited until his nausea subsided, then handed him a couple of tissues she found in her pocket.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Sitting back on his heels, Ronan wiped his mouth. Unless he missed his guess, he had just discovered a new method for destroying vampires, one that was right up there with sunlight and beheading. Instead of driving a wooden stake through his heart, all you had to do was stuff him with homemade apple pie.

“Ronan?”

“I’ll be all right,” he said, but it was a lie. It felt like a thousand piranhas were eating away at his insides.

“Was it the pie?” she asked. “Are you allergic to apples or cinnamon or something?”

“Yes, something.” He closed his eyes. He hadn’t eaten solid food in five hundred years, though he had wondered, from time to time, what it would be like. Now he knew.

“You shouldn’t have eaten it then.”

“Your mother didn’t give me much choice,” he said glumly. “Besides, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Shannah laughed softly. “That was mighty sweet of you.”

“Yeah, sweet,” he muttered, “that’s me.”

“Are you ready to go back inside?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, come on,” she said, offering him her hand, “we can sit in the swing until you feel better. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

He grunted softly, certain that he would never feel better again.

The next evening, at dusk, Shannah and Ronan bade her parents good-bye.

With tears shining in her eyes, Verna begged Shannah to move back home. Her father, too, tried to persuade her that it was for the best.

“Maybe later,” Shannah said, “but Ronan needs me right now. Isn’t that right, Ronan?”

“Yes, of course.”

Shannah hugged her mother and her father. “I’ll call you soon,” she promised.

She was quiet on the way back to the Waldorf. She loved her parents and she knew she would miss them, but she couldn’t stay, didn’t want them to watch her get weaker and weaker, couldn’t abide the thought of seeing the sadness in their eyes, didn’t want them to feel guilty because they couldn’t kiss her hurt and make it better.

When they reached the hotel, they packed their bags, then took a cab to the airport, and now they were on board the plane. Shannah glanced out the window, knowing she would never see her parents again. Earlier in the day, she had gone to see Judy. It had been a bittersweet visit. But her good-byes had all been said.

“So,” she said, turning away from the window to look at Ronan, “where were you this afternoon? Never mind, don’t answer that,” she said irritably. “I know what your answer will be. You went into the city on business, right?”

He looked at her, his expression mildly amused. It only served to annoy her more.

“Just what kind of business were you taking care of? It can’t be book business, since you don’t want anyone to know who you are.”

Ronan lifted one brow. “Feeling a little testy this evening, are we?”

“I’m just tired of being kept in the dark, that’s all.”

Kept in the dark
. He had to laugh at that. If she only knew.

The plane hit some turbulence. Shannah’s hands grasped the arm rests, her knuckles white.

“Take it easy,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. And she didn’t relax her grip on the seat.

“Your folks wanted you to stay with them,” he said, hoping to distract her.

“I know, but nothing’s changed. They worry about me too much, you know? I can’t stand to see the hurt in their eyes, or the pity. Or the guilt. I know they feel like it’s their fault that I’m sick.”

“What do you want to do when we get home?”

“I don’t know. I guess I should go back to my place…”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Well, I really don’t want to, but I can’t go on living with you.”

“Why not? You’ve been doing it for the last few months.”

“I know, but…well, you needed me to be there, you know, so you could coach me, and now…”

“I still need you there.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “You do?”

“I’ve lived alone most of my life. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“But…”

“Get rid of your apartment and move in with me.”

It was so very tempting. And so very wrong. It had been one thing when it was business, but to move in with him now, just because he wanted her to…What would her parents say? Nowadays, a woman moving in with a man was no big deal to most people, but her parents were old-fashioned in some respects. They still believed in honesty and fidelity and chastity before marriage. And they had instilled those values in their daughter.

“I’m not asking for anything more than your company,” Ronan said. “Anything beyond that will be up to you.” He took one of her hands in his. “Say yes, love.”

It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. “If I say yes, will you tell me where you go during the day?”

“I will, when you need to know.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Then my answer is yes, love…oh!” She shrieked as the plane shuddered.

She wasn’t the only one. Several other women screamed as the plane began to lose altitude.

A flight attendant appeared, her voice quivering as she assured them that everything was all right, and then instructed them to fasten their seat belts.

Shannah clutched Ronan’s arm. “We’re going to crash, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know. Shannah, look at me.”

“What?”

“Shannah, whatever happens, I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t want to die now, not like this!”

“Shannah, listen to me, you’ll be all right.” His gaze caught and held hers. “Whatever happens, you’ll be all right. Trust me, love, there’s nothing to fear. I won’t let anything hurt you. Do you understand?”

She stared at him, her eyes unfocused. “Nothing to fear,” she murmured.

“You will sleep now,” he said quietly, “and you’ll stay asleep until I tell you to awake.”

“Sleep.” Her eyelids fluttered down. The tension left her body and she slumped down in her seat.

Slipping his arm around her waist, Ronan lifted her onto his lap and held her tight while the plane plummeted toward the ground.

Ronan cradled Shannah to his chest, speaking softly to her mind while pandemonium erupted all around him. Cries of alarm and screams of panic were underscored by a tremulous voice murmuring the Lord’s Prayer.

Feeling an unexpected sense of regret that he couldn’t save them all, Ronan summoned his preternatural powers and transported himself and Shannah out of the plane and onto the ground, well away from the airplane’s trajectory.

Standing there in the dark, holding Shannah in his arms, he watched the nose of the plane hit the ground. It balanced there for a moment and then, as if it was moving in slow motion, the aircraft flipped over and broke in half. Even before it burst into flames, he knew there would be no survivors.

He glanced at Shannah, still spellbound in his arms, and wondered how he would explain the fact that they had survived the crash when no one else had. And then he shrugged. There were countless stories of people who had made miraculous escapes from accidents where no one should have survived.

He glanced at the night sky. No doubt the pilot had sent out a call for help before the plane crashed. How long would it take for rescuers to arrive on the scene? And what should he do until then? Should he wait here for help to arrive, or should he transport himself and Shannah home to California? If he left the scene now, there was a distinct possibility that it could cause questions that might be hard to answer later. For instance, if asked, how would Shannah explain leaving the crash site and getting home? They were miles from the nearest city. Damn! It would be an easy thing to transport them to his house but it seemed wiser to stay. He hadn’t survived this long by drawing attention to himself.

Carrying Shannah further away from the wreck, he found a cleared grassy area. He would wait with her as long as he could, and then he would have to seek shelter from the sun.

Sitting down, he stroked Shannah’s hair while he spoke quietly to her mind. “Shannah, listen to me. The plane crashed. We managed to get out just before it caught fire and ran to safety. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“If they ask you any questions, you don’t remember anything else. If I’m not here when you wake up, you’re to tell anyone who asks that I went looking for help. Is that clear?”

“We got out of the plane before it caught fire,” she said, her voice flat. “If you’re not here when I wake up, I’m to tell anyone who asks that you went looking for help.”

He kissed her cheek. “Good girl.”

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew all the cash he had and stuffed it into the pocket of her slacks.

For a time, he stared at the flames, his thoughts filled with death. He had seen much of it in his time, most of it needless. Mankind was a violent race. He had seen wars, large and small. He had seen mighty kings and rulers rise and fall. He had seen fathers and sons turn against one another, arguing over a scrap of land or a difference in politics or religion. He had seen men ride off to war, certain of victory, seen those same men lying dead on the field of battle. Death. The world was full of it.

He held Shannah in his arms, content to do so until he sensed the coming of dawn. Though he hated to leave her out there, alone, he had no other choice.

He trailed his fingertips over her cheek. “Shannah,” he murmured, “you will sleep until someone awakens you. You will not be afraid to get on another plane for the trip home. If I don’t find you before you get home, I’ll meet you there. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Dammit, I don’t want to leave you out here alone!”

Even as he said the words, he felt the first rays of the sun on his back, heard the whirring of a helicopter overhead.

Dropping a quick kiss on Shannah’s brow, he dissolved into mist and disappeared into the deep shadows of the woods.

Shannah woke feeling groggy and bewildered, with no memory of what had happened between the time the plane started going down and a uniformed police officer woke her up.

The area around the crash site was crawling with people and they all asked her questions, questions for which she had no answers.

“All I remember is running away from the plane. I don’t remember anything after that.” If she said it once, she said it a hundred times. But did she really remember running away from the crash? Even though she had said it dozens of times, she had no clear memory of running from the plane, no lingering sense of fear at coming so close to a fiery death.

Finally, an ambulance drove her to a hospital in La Porte City where a doctor checked her over from head to toe, declared, in amazement, that she didn’t have a scratch on her, and released her. The airlines put her up in a hotel and gave her a ticket home that was good any time she felt like using it.

When she reached her room in the hotel, she went straight to bed, only to lie there wondering where Ronan was. Why had he left her alone and gone for help when there was no need? Where had he gone? And where was he now?

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. Why had the two of them survived when everyone else on board had perished? She wasn’t anxious to die, but it seemed unfair that she should survive when she was dying anyway. Suddenly overcome with guilt, she burst into tears. She wept for all the people who had died, wept for her own life, which would end all too soon, wept for the husband and the children she would never have, wept for the pain her death would bring her parents, wept until she had no tears left.

When she woke several hours later, the sun had set and Ronan was sitting on the foot of the bed, watching her.

“Ronan! How did you get here? How did you find me? Where have you been?”

“So many questions.” Rising, he moved to the side of the bed and sat down beside her. “Are you all right, love?”

Sitting up, she brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “Yes, but…”

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes, but…”

“No questions now.”

But she couldn’t wait. “Why didn’t we die with everyone else? Why didn’t I die? It doesn’t make sense…I should have died, too.”

“Shannah, hush, love.”

“I can’t help it. I feel so guilty for being alive when everyone else was killed. Why me? Why us?”

“Perhaps we had the most to live for?”

She shook her head. “No! I’m dying. There were people on that plane who had long lives ahead of them! Young mothers, children. It isn’t right…”

“Ah, Shannah.” He drew her into his arms and held her tight. “There are no answers to questions like that. It’s normal to feel guilty when you survive something like this, but there’s no need. It isn’t your fault the others died. It isn’t your fault that you survived. It’s just Fate. The luck of the draw, the turn of the wheel.” He smiled down at her. “Just be glad that you’re still alive, love, and make the most of whatever time you have left.”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” he suggested. “I’ll go down to the gift shop and see if I can find you something to wear.”

“All right.”

She thought about what Ronan had said while she showered. His words made sense. They even made her feel a little bit better. And yet she couldn’t help feeling that she was forgetting something that had happened just before the crash, something important that remained just out of her reach. Something to do with Ronan…

With a shake of her head, she turned off the water in the shower, dried off, and wrapped herself in a towel.

A moment later, there was a knock on the bathroom door. She opened it a crack to see Ronan on the other side, a large plastic shopping bag in his hand.

He handed her the sack. “I think you’ll find everything you need inside.”

“Thank you.”

After closing the door, she delved into the bag, removing a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a sweatshirt, a black bra and a pair of matching panties, a pair of low-heeled sandals, a nightgown, a comb, a brush, a toothbrush and toothpaste.

She dressed quickly, combed out her hair, stepped into the sandals, and went into the other room.

Ronan turned away from the window when she entered the room.

“I can’t believe you found all this in the gift shop,” Shannah remarked.

“I didn’t.” His gaze moved over her. “Everything fit all right?”

She felt a flush burn her cheeks. “Yes,” she said, “everything.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” she admitted, frowning. “But there’s something bothering me and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something I should remember. It seems important…”

“I’m sure it will come to you, in time, if it’s important.”

“I guess so,” she said doubtfully.

“Would you like to go out for a while?” he asked.

She nodded, thinking some fresh air and a walk might do her some good.

“Have you had dinner?” he asked.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat.”

“Not now.” The very thought of food make her sick to her stomach.

He didn’t argue.

After leaving the hotel, they walked in silence for a while. Shannah felt numb inside, as if a part of her had died in the crash. Maybe she should have died, she thought glumly. At least it would have been quickly over. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her. What if it took her months and months to die? She didn’t want to suffer for a long time, to lie in a hospital bed and slowly waste away.

“Hey,” Ronan said, “why so quiet?”

She shrugged. “I was just thinking about…” Her eyes narrowed and she turned to look at him. “On the plane, you promised me that whatever happened, you’d keep me safe.”

He shrugged. “What did you want me to say? I was trying to make you feel better.”

“But there was more…why can’t I remember?”

Taking her by the hand, he said, “Come on, let’s get a drink.”

They found a quiet night club on the next block. Shannah ordered a virgin strawberry daiquiri and Ronan ordered a glass of red wine.

He studied her over the rim of his glass, wondering what he would say if she suddenly remembered everything that had happened before the crash. He told himself there was nothing to worry about and yet he wasn’t so sure. No one else had ever recalled being hypnotized by him. Perhaps it was the result of the blood he had given her. Perhaps it had weakened his power over her and, at the same time, strengthened her will to resist his telepathic suggestions. If she remembered everything he had said on the plane before the crash and after, it would require a great deal of explanation.

Jim Hewitt looked up at the small television set that was located on a shelf in a corner of the bar.

“Hey, Overstreet,” he called, “look at this. Bartender, can you turn up the sound?”

“What’s going on?” Carl Overstreet looked up at the screen where a television reporter was standing in front of the smoldering wreckage of a plane.

“Remember when we followed Black and her publicist to the airport? Didn’t they leave on Flight 271?”

Overstreet snorted. “If he’s her publicist, I’m Jane Pauley.”

Hewitt jerked his chin toward the TV. “That’s Flight 271. Good thing we couldn’t get tickets.”

“Yeah,” Overstreet muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Good thing.”

Hewitt grunted. It hadn’t seemed like a good thing at the time. Once Eva Black had boarded the plane, she had been lost to them, at least temporarily. Now it looked like she was gone for good, and with her their only link to her companion.

“Do you think he was killed?” Overstreet asked.

Hewitt shrugged, his gaze intent on the screen. “I don’t know. Vampires are susceptible to fire, just like anyone else. Maybe more so.”

“Yeah, but…wait a minute,” Overstreet said. “Listen to this.”

“…. Miss Eva Black and her companion, Mr. Dark, were the sole survivors when the plane’s engine malfunctioned and crashed in this barren stretch of Iowa countryside. Neither Miss Black, a well-known author who resides in Northern California, nor her companion, Mr. Dark, were available for comment. In other news…”

Hewitt grinned. He’d bet his last dollar that Mr. Dark was none other than Ronan.

“What’s so funny?” Overstreet asked.

“Just thinking that this is our lucky day. So, what do you say, Carl, you up for another trip to sunny California?”

“Sure, I’ve got nothing else to do.” With a shrug, the reporter tossed off his drink. “But how do we find him when we get there?”

“As it happens, I know how to find him.”

Using the ticket the airlines had given her, Shannah booked a flight home for the next night. Ronan was able to get a seat on the same flight. He watched her carefully as they boarded the plane, but she did so without fear.

The flight was uneventful. When they arrived at the airport, Ronan hailed a cab.

Shannah sat beside him, silently staring out the window.

It was after midnight when they reached Ronan’s house. Shannah felt a sense of homecoming unlike anything she had ever felt before as she stepped across the threshold.

Funny, that this big old house that wasn’t even hers felt more like home than her own apartment.

She waited for Ronan to lock the door and switch on the lights. “Do you still want me to live here, with you?” she asked.

“Yes. Why? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

“No.”

Murmuring her name, he drew her into his arms. The plane crash had reminded him anew of how fragile human life was, how quickly it could be snuffed out. He wanted to spend every moment possible with the woman in his arms. He wanted her with him forever.

Shannah leaned against him, her head pillowed on his chest, her eyes closed. The sound of his heartbeat soothed her. His arms were strong around her, protective, comforting. She was safe here, with him. Nothing could hurt her while he was there…

Trust me, love, there’s nothing to fear. I won’t let anything hurt you.

The words echoed so loudly in her mind she looked up to see if he had spoken.

“Did you say something?”

“No, why?”

“I thought…never mind. It’s late,” she said, smothering a yawn. “I think I’ll go to bed.”

“All right.”

“Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?”