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Authors: Michele Drier

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My anger and hurt were growing and when he wanted to talk, I thought “OK, buddy, let’s talk!” I was ready to launch into a tirade when a niggling thought started poking at me. Had he ever said anything about a personal interest in me? Had he ever indicated that he wanted me around forever? Even for a while? In fairness, I was the one who’d built all of this up, who was thinking subtly about the next step closer. When we walked into the library, I was still coldly angry, but now I would use it to erect a wall.

 

“I wanted to talk about what’s going on here,” Jean-Louis began.

 

“It’s become clear to me that nothing is going on here,” I snapped.

 

A wave of incomprehension spread over his face. “What do you mean? You were attacked last night. Sandor told me the pigs are running. The Huszars and their pals are nosing around, testing our defenses. They’re after you and we don’t know why.”

 

I bristled. “And that bothers you because I’m valuable to the Baron, right? At all costs, let’s keep his investment safe!” Watch it, I told myself. If this kept up I was liable to cry out of sheer embarrassment and frustration. And Jean-Louis would probably read that as weakness or game-playing.

 

I looked up at him and stopped myself. His face was stern, no tract of a glimmer now.

 

“Is that how you think I see you? As an asset to the Baron?” he demanded.

 

I recoiled at his tone and wondered at the wisdom of pissing off a vampire. “Well, I was beginning to think we had some commonalities,” my voice was low and I fought to steady it. “That night in L.A. when we danced, and later when you took me home. But Sandor set me straight yesterday when he said you’d escort me to keep me safe...”

 

“I do intend to keep you safe,” Jean-Louis’ voice was cold and controlled. “As to anything else, well ...” He’d been holding my arm and now he practically threw it back at me as he stomped out of the library.

 

e’d been jolding my arm and he all but threw it back aty me as he turned and stopmed out of the library.

“Hmmm, that went well,” I said to myself, rubbing my arm. Vampires are strong; I’d have a bruise in the morning. I tossed the silk wrap around my upper arm to hide Jean-Louis’ finger marks and took myself into the salon, looking for Carola.

 

I spotted her on a sofa, deep in conversation with Francois and Pen so I moved over to the French doors and pulled the drape back. I screamed when I saw eyes looking back at me.

 

That was enough to break up the bridge tables. Carola came rushing over to see what I was making a fuss over. “Oh, no wonder,” she announced to the room. “Maxie looked right into one of the guard’s faces and it must have startled her.” She turned. “Francoise, be a dear and go ask Sandor to turn on the terrace lights so Maxie can see there’s nothing out there.”

 

Francoise swanned out of the salon in search of Sandor and Carola said, “Maxie, maybe you’d like to go to your room. Make is an early night of it. I can come up in a bit and check on you.”

 

I nodded. What with Jean-Louis’ angry words, my disappointment at my botched assumptions, the information from Sandor, weird dreams and noises and several very late nights, a quiet room and a book sounded wonderful. “Thank you Carola,” I smiled and turned to the room. “I am so sorry that I acted like that. I’m not normally one to let things frighten me, but I guess I am tired. Please excuse me.” With what little dignity as I could gather to wrap around my bruised arm and battered self-esteem, I headed up the stairs.

 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
 

 

Lisbit had already been there. The bed was turned down, a fire glowed on the hearth and one of my new nightgowns was across the chaise. The vampires must have some sort of telegraphic powers. I didn’t plan to be upstairs this early.

 

Then I realized that I’d read it wrong, like I was reading much wrong lately. When I left to go down to dinner, Lisbet got the room ready. A couple of times during the evening she’d check in and add to the fire, otherwise it was done.

 

Like a lot of things in the past few days, I hadn’t seen the facts and lost all sense of proportion. It was making me skittery. I screamed when I saw a face in the window, I almost cried talking to Jean-Louis, I blurted out interest in him to Carola at dinner. God, at the rate I was going, I’d be of no value to SNAP because I’d mess up my job all by myself. Stop. I had to stop. Just grab my book and get into bed. A good night’s sleep was going to give me more balance.

 
I was about to drift off when something tapped at the door. I sat bolt upright and stifled a scream.
 
“Yes?” came out in a long low moan.
“Maxie, are you alright?” Carola’s voice was followed by her head peering around the door.
 

“I’m fine. I was almost asleep,” I managed to get out. I threw the covers off and started to the door but Carola was already inside, headed for one of the chairs before the fire. I quick changed course, pretending I was headed that way too. Settled in front of the fire, I looked at Carola. It was the middle of the night, but she looked groomed and sleek with a low glimmer and faint hum.

 

“I told you I’d come up. I think we need to talk about a few things,”
she said. “And I think Jean-Louis is high on the agenda.”

 

This was awkward. I was titularly her boss and functioned as that in LA. We weren’t close friends but did share camaraderie. Here, she had a role as one of the owners of SNAP. How should I play this?

 

“You’re looking confused. Maybe I can clear a few things up,” Carola smiled.

 

“The relations between us and regulars is a bit odd. We have employees who are donors, so that’s a pretty straightforward role. Many of them aren’t sure who is and who isn’t a vampire, but they know that the company is owned by us. Probably the largest part of our employees doesn’t know they work for vampires, and there’s no reason for them to. They work standard shifts—granted, there’s always somebody at work somewhere 24 hours a day—and get paid well. Working for SNAP had cachet so we never have many complaints.

 

“You’re an anomaly and an elite member of our upper management structure. There are a little more than a hundred of you in the company—regulars who know they’re working for vampires, but aren’t donors. And they’re in positions where, on the job, they may supervise the owners.”

She’d gotten to the crux fast. I appreciated her conciseness and waited for an answer as to how this worked.

“I don’t know how it works,” she went on. “It’s different in every case. Our legal staff is regulars because we do business in so many countries. It isn’t feasible for family members to go through law school; laws are different and they change. We can hire experts to advise us. The same with some of our money people. They work with the legal staff to keep our assets in the right place at the right time.” She laughed with that silver sound.

“We’ve been around for centuries, but we’re always aware of the times we live in. SNAP, and the other companies and enterprises, didn’t get where they are without a lot of care, work and professionals. We can hire the best Yale, Harvard, Sorbonne, Oxbridge graduates we need.”

Good Lord, Vampire Business Studies 101. She was right. All of the people I worked with were tops at their jobs. They were up on current trends and technologies, knew their markets and worked hard. A lot of patience went into hiring the best people and training them so that the company hummed like a beehive, everybody knowing their job and functioning with very little supervision.

“I don’t think you really wanted to talk about the company, though,” she looked directly at me. “I give you this so that you know how special you are in the company and the eyes of the family.”

“Thank you. If the Baron has allocated so much of Jean-Louis’ and the demons’ time to watch me, I should stop thinking of it as protective custody.”

This time the laugh was real, a guffaw of mirth. “Oh Maxie, you’re so funny! You’re not in any custody! And you’re not being ‘watched’.”

“Then why was Jean-Louis assigned to bring me over here? And why is he always talking to the demons? And what were he and the Baron talking about after dinner? It seems as though he’s completely ignored me today and tonight.” I had to stop, I was getting emotional and this wouldn’t do with one of the vampires.

Carola face was bemused. “I think you’ve misread many things,” she shook her head. “The Baron, and all of us at SNAP, do think you’re valuable. Your experience is what we needed to have. You had all the contacts and publishing knowledge. You’re a workaholic, so we’re getting our money’s worth out of you. And you’re at your best during the day, when we’re not.

“So yes, you are valuable. We’re concerned because the Huszars think so, too. We’re not sure why they’re after you. That’s what Jean-Louis and Stefan were talking about after dinner. They’re going to pick up one of the Huszars and see what they can get out of him.”

The room was silent. Suddenly a log fell, shooting sparks and making me jump. “Isn’t that dangerous? I thought there wasn’t any interaction between the families?”

“There’s very little,” Carola nodded. “It seems like over the years the more we’ve tried to work with them, the worse things get.”

“This is just wonderful. On top of all my other fears, am I going to be the cause of a war between vampires?”

“I hardly think it’s a war,” she said, looking at me like I was a slightly stupid child. “I don’t think it’s worth all of that.”

Damning with faint praise. I was worth a slight confrontation? Some angry words? A kidnapping? What? This conversation was heading down the wrong freeway ramp and I wanted off.

“I don’t know what this has to do with Jean-Louis,” my voice was harsh with anger and frustration. “It’s clear that I’ve misread him as well. Maybe I need to rethink my involvement with you guys and SNAP.” I scrubbed my eyes, burning from incipient tears and exhaustion.

“You need to stop and listen,” Carola eyes narrowed. “All that juvenile hurt and drama queen anger isn’t going to help your cause a bit. We’ve been there, seen it. We’re not impressed.”

I rocked back. Her words and tone were like a glass of ice water in my face. My perspective was just a ripple to those who’d been around for so long. The depth of experience gave them a view beyond petty emotional outbursts and hurt feelings. They knew the passage of time would make all of this go away.

“OK, I’ll listen,” I said in a begrudging tone.

“Your heeding better be better than your tone,” Carola was miffed. “I’m not going to waste much more time on this.”

Damn, I pushed her buttons. If I wanted any information, I had to stop the spoiled brat attitude. “I’m sorry, Carola. I am listening.” I put on a contrite tone. “And I appreciate your taking time to talk with me.”

She nodded. I didn’t think my conciliation would erase my earlier idiocy, but she was willing to give me a chance.

“Let’s start with Jean-Louis. That’s what or who you
really
wanted to talk about, right?”

“Yes. I’m attracted to him and it just scares me. I can’t see how there could be anything between us.”
“You mean because he’s a vampire?” the vampire asked.
That pretty much hit in on the head. All I could do was nod.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
 

 

“Once upon a time...” Carola laughed out loud. “I’ve always loved that we can start stories like that.”

 

“Once upon a time, Jean-Louis fell in love. This was about, I don’t know, maybe 250 years ago. He was from Sopron, and had been visiting in Vienna. He was taking a boat to Budapest and for some reason got off in Esztergom. I don’t know why he got off the boat, but he did and he saw Magda.

 

“She was a regular. Jean-Louis fell, hard. He spent about five years coming back to Esztergom, trying to convince her to become one of us.”

 

Carola paused. “You must remember that we’d been living in the midst of frightened regulars for years and years. This was a different approach. No vampire they’d ever heard of asked the peasants if they wanted to die. They were prey, and they acted like it. So when Jean-Louis asked Magda if she’d be an acolyte and live with him forever, it took her a while to say yes. Finally, she watched herself getting older while he never changed and realized that she would lose him. Either she’d be old and ugly or she’d be dead. He would continue on.

 

“We were happy for him, for them, and they enjoyed life. They traveled to much of the world over the years, and particularly liked the United States. Although, I think Magda was pretty fond of Paris, too,” she gave a sly grin. “Most of us are fond of the shopping.”

 

“That all sounds idyllic,” I said, doing my best not to be peevish. Having Jean-Louis and shopping in Paris? My idea of heaven.

 

“I think it was, until the Huszars came around,” Carola went on. “They’d started digging up trouble again. A couple of raids on villages, then the people began hunting. Magda was coming home late one night, alone in her carriage, when a mob of villagers came roaring down the road. They dragged her out and forced her to open her mouth. When they found fangs, they went into a frenzy. Several held her down, some of the men hacked down a tree and whittled a huge stake. They drove the stake through her and left her pinned to the ground. The driver escaped and got Jean-Louis, but by the time he found her, Madga was gone. He blames the Huszars and hates them. That’s when he and the Baron started making plans for survival and safety.”

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