Dead Rising (11 page)

“Dario, this is my Mom and Dad, my brother Roman, his wife and two kids, my sister Athena with her husband. Over there are my cousins Bran and Cesare. And this is Great-grandma Essie.

“He’s a fucking vampire,” Essie announced. She seemed rather cheerful about the whole thing, as if I’d brought a much needed bottle of Jack Daniels to Sunday church service.

“Yes he is,” I responded.

Essie walked around him, inspecting him as though he were a horse at auction. Dario looked appropriately terrified.

“Can I kiss him?” she asked. Actually, she shouted. Essie was somewhere over one hundred years old, and although she walked around like she was a spry eighty, she was losing her hearing. Thus, she assumed everyone else was losing their hearing, too.

“Later, Gran.”

“Welcome, Dario.” Finally someone besides my crazy great-grandmother spoke up. Mom had obviously felt the silence had gone on long enough to get her point across and it was time to once again be the gracious hostess.

“Well, it’s pretty late,” Dad chimed in. “Time we were all in bed. Early start tomorrow, you know.”

It was just past one in the morning. Dad routinely stayed up until three and had always seemed to thrive on a mere four to five hours of sleep per night. Either there was something especially exciting planned for tomorrow, or Dad felt everyone needed to go to bed and process the fact that I’d brought a vampire to our home for family weekend. Yeah, probably the latter.

Everyone chimed in their good-nights as if we were the Waltons, and made their way up a staircase so wide four could walk abreast. I waited, knowing what was to come.

“Aria. A word with you in the kitchen, please?”

Mom. Dario raised a questioning eyebrow at me and I waved for him to follow. The kitchen was in the rear of the house, through a maze of rooms and hallways. If I hadn’t grown up here, I would have been tempted to leave a trail of breadcrumbs to find my way back.

The house layout may have been for the convenience of a lifestyle long ago, but the kitchen had been remodeled for modern needs. I’m sure it was huge two hundred years ago, but it was even bigger now that two of the old servants’ rooms had been demolished in the expansion. One pantry had been converted into a walk-in fridge, two others retained their original use. A fireplace big enough to roast a horse took up one entire wall. It was totally impractical, but Dad adored it and refused to see it walled in. I adored it, too. The brick had chips, patchwork, and tiny carvings where Ainsworths of old had etched charms and, no doubt, curses. A heavy black metal arm on a hinged pole was still in place inside the fireplace, its hook holding an antique cast iron pot. I used to sit at the kitchen table eating my cereal and imagine that I was a witch with potions boiling away over the fire. In reality, that pot hadn’t seen use in close to fifty years. And the housekeepers we’d had over the ages always complained about having to clean the thing of cobwebs and dust.

I waved Dario to the huge butcher block we used as a kitchen table and grabbed a couple of beers out of the fridge. Dad may be a wine kinda guy, but he always had a good supply of beer for us kids.

“When are you taking your Oath, Solaria?”

I totally expected this. Mom never pulled her punches. “I’m not ready. Should I show Dario to the dragon bedroom? I’m assuming that’s where you’d like him to stay?”

With twelve bedrooms, we’d taken to naming them by décor. The dragon bedroom had tapestries on the walls showing Saint George’s legendary battle. It also was north-facing with electronic privacy shutters. Perfect for a vampire, or for guests who had been partying very late and wanted to sleep the day away undisturbed by sunlight.

“Of course. Your Oath, Solaria—”

“I’m not discussing my Oath. Can we please change the subject, Mom?”

We weren’t always this way, my mother and I. There was a time when I’d cuddled in her lap while she sang me songs of Charlemagne and Genghis Khan. She’d taught me swordplay at three with a red plastic Excalibur. She’d bandaged my cuts and scrapes, kissed my boo-boos. She’d held me as I cried in her arms over some boy. Something changed between us and I wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened. All I felt from her now was pressure. And disappointment.

Her blue eyes, so like my own, were steely as they met mine. “For the sake of your guest, who I’m sure is uncomfortable with this discussion, I will change the topic. But be aware, Solaria, we will speak of this again.”

Dario didn’t look uncomfortable. Actually he looked intrigued at the tension between us. I drained half my beer and nodded. I was starving, cannoli didn’t make for a very filling dinner, but I wasn’t willing to hang around my mother long enough to raid the refrigerator.

Mom chatted about family news, careful not to discuss anything too personal around Dario. I was saddened to hear we’d lost one of the mares to colic last week, and excited to hear Sasha had a litter of puppies two months back. Knowing my family, there would be time carved out of this weekend for riding. I was looking forward to getting out to the stables to see the horses and cuddling with a bunch of rowdy pups.

“I know you are both are eager to head to bed. You must join us for brunch tomorrow, Dario.” My mother smiled, her teeth perfect and white, her eyes guileless. “Solomon makes the most wonderful French toast.”

Here we go again. I rolled my eyes. Not that Dad’s French toast wasn’t something to write home about, but Mom was baiting Dario, and thus me, in her usual passive-aggressive manner. “Is brunch now at five in the morning, Mom? How kind of you to offer to accommodate my vampire boyfriend with a time change but I would hate inconvenience everyone else.”

Dario started at my titling him “my boyfriend”. He was normally so controlled that the expression on his face nearly cracked me up.

Mom’s eyes met mine. “Touché,” they said. “We’ll be sure to schedule a late dinner and leave plenty in the fridge. I’m assuming Dario has the means to take care of his other needs?”

Ah yes. Dario, addressed in the third person as if he were not standing right in front of her. The chilly tone of her last sentence was just as much about the “ick” factor of the vampire’s other needs as the disapproval she felt that my “boyfriend” must surely be slaking his needs by means of my veins.

“Not to worry, Mrs. Ainsworth. I fed before I left town and should be fine for a few days. If such activities are not allowed in your home, I’ll be more than happy to pop down to the neighboring village each evening.” I choked back a laugh at Dario’s cheerful tone. It was as if he were discussing a tobacco habit. “Just to ensure I’m not seen, I’ll make sure I fly there and back as a bat.”

Shit. I tried to hide my laughter as a coughing fit, but Mom knew better. “That won’t be necessary, Dario. As long as you are discreet, we will tolerate your taking care of these things within the home.”

We barely made it upstairs before I collapsed on the bed laughing. I knew Mom would put me in my old bedroom, the one that hadn’t been redecorated since I was twelve. I’d rebelled against all the jousting and hand-to-hand combat lessons by painting my room bubble gum pink. Fuzzy kitten pictures lined the walls, side by side with sparkly unicorns. My bed sported a million lace pillows and a lace draped canopy. The joke had been on me, though. Mom had refused to let me change it back, and I’d been in girly-girl hell ever since my teen years.

“Did you see her face? Sucking lemons couldn’t be more appropriate a term.” I started laughing again. This guy was hysterical. Maybe hanging with a vampire wasn’t so bad after all.

Dario tossed a few lacy pillows to the floor and sat down on my bed. “I’m beginning to prefer the rest of your family’s icy silence.”

I snorted and sat up. “Except for Essie. Better lock your door. She’s pretty spry for her age and I think she fancies you.”

“I’m worried
she’d
bite
me
. Can you loan me a sword or a javelin or something? I wouldn’t be surprised to wake up tonight with her on top of me.”

I fell back onto the pillows laughing at the image of my great-grandmother, naked and sexually assaulting a vampire. The beer on an empty stomach was getting to me, and I found myself in a happy buzz-land place, where it was perfectly okay for me to be sprawled across my bed next to a vampire. There was one of those odd moments where his eyes met mine and the silence held all sorts of meaning.

Dario cleared his throat. “So where is this dragon room? I’m assuming there aren’t actually dragons there. Surviving your great-grandmother is going to be difficult enough without having to fend off fire-breathing reptiles, too.”

“It’s early. What are you going to do all night?”

I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, that I really didn’t want to go there, but I couldn’t help myself. Blame the beer, or sexy vampire come-hither magic, or the tension of being around my family, but I didn’t want to be all alone in this pink bedroom.

The vampire gave me an odd look. “Read a book or something. Maybe prowl around your gardens if you’ll assure me that there aren’t any spells to set me on fire, or launch a stake through my heart.”

I rolled around on the bed, knocking pillows to the floor. “Nah, you’ll be safe. Although I’d rather you stay here.” I looked upside down at the wall beside my bed and began to laugh uncontrollably.

Dario had that look on his face. The same one he’d had when Essie had been eyeing him up. “What’s so funny?”

“The pictures,” I gasped. “Can you imagine having sex and looking up to see some unicorn smiling benignly down on you? Would you be able to keep it up with all these fluffy kittens staring at you with their big eyes?”

I looked up at Dario, my grin fading. There was no doubt he’d be able to keep it up, and he was indeed imagining the very thing I was. I held my breath. Waiting.

“How are you drunk on one beer?”

Guess that was a “no”. Not that I was really sure I wanted a “yes”. Sex with Dario sounded really good right now, but I had a feeling that activity and drinking blood went hand-in-hand with this vampire. I wasn’t about to head down that slippery slope.

“All I’ve eaten today is six cannolis and an apple spice donut.”

Dario swore and stood up. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

I was half asleep when my door opened again. Dario set two plates and a bag of chips on top of my bed, and a huge glass of water on my bedside table.

“Here.” He stuffed a sandwich into my hand. Crumbs rained down on my lacy pink comforter. “Eat. Drink. Then show me where this dragon room is before you go into a food-induced sleep coma. This house is huge and I’m worried if you don’t show me which room is mine that I’ll fry come morning. Or worse yet, climb into bed with your great-grandmother.”

I giggled with my mouth full. I was coming down off my one-beer buzz but still feeling silly. Dario joined me, eating the other sandwich and sharing the bag of chips. It was fun. More fun than I’d ever thought I’d have in this god-awful pink bedroom.

We tiptoed down the hallway and up one more set of stairs to the upper floor which had once housed servants and provided storage for generations of crap. The dragon room was at the end of the hall, next to the wooden door that led to the attic. I flicked on the light as we entered and admired what had been one of my favorite rooms as a child.

Each wall boasted a huge tapestry, hanging ceiling to floor from sturdy brass curtain rods with gold embossed pineapple-style ends. They made the room cozily warm on damp, chilly winter nights, and provided a perfect spot to hide. Many times I’d snuck between a tapestry and the wall, avoiding Latin lessons or the dreaded herbal identification quizzes our tutor insisted on torturing us with. The old fabric smelled of dust and incense, and I’d always pressed my nose against them, trying to hold my breath until our tutor gave up his search.

“Nice,” Dario commented. “Not many humans enjoy sleeping with scenes of beheading and fatal gut wounds surrounding them.”

“Would you rather have the kitties and unicorns?”

“No.” He shot me a quick smile. Guess Dario wasn’t as expressionless as I’d thought. Maybe he was warming up to me. Maybe I shouldn’t think about that at all.

“Here’s how you work the blinds.” I showed him, then flicked off the lights to illustrate the completely light-proof nature of the room.

“I’ll admit I thought I’d be down in the wine cellar,” he confessed. “Judging by your family’s greeting, I didn’t assumed they ever had vampire guests.”

“Uncle Beo,” I told him. “He gets out-of-his-mind drunk and goes on a rampage if there’s a hint of sunlight in his room before late afternoon.”

“Part vampire?”

I didn’t know someone could
be
part vampire. I’d always read it was an all or nothing kind of thing. I made a note to research further. And remember to take my birth control. Just in case.

“Nope. Just an old Knight who hits the scotch rather hard, especially during the equinox. He’s been a bit off ever since that sand
wyrmm
incident in Egypt a few decades back.”

Dario nodded. “Well, I think I’m good. Thanks.”

I winced at the dismissal, lingering just a second longer than I should. “Goodnight.”

Idiot. I cursed myself the whole way back to my Pepto-Bismol colored room. Yeah, Dario was mighty sexy, but he was a vampire. I’d had no problem keeping myself from doing anything but ogling and mild flirtation back in Baltimore, but here among my family I was grabbing at him like a drowning woman clinging to a buoy. Luckily he hadn’t been the type to take advantage or I’d probably be showing up to breakfast claiming a curling iron mishap. Then moving in with him once we were back in Baltimore, never to be seen alive again.

And I was clearly insane that the thought of a vampire related death seemed more sexy than terrifying. I needed to snap out of this, get the information I needed, high tail it back to Baltimore then stop indulging in this death-fetish fantasy I had going on.

And find a boyfriend. Or at least some guy willing to participate in regular booty calls. Because curling up in bed thinking about what sort of other facial expressions I could coax from Dario wasn’t healthy.