Chapter Thirty-one

I hoofed out from Bo and Elena’s alone. No need for Julian to chaperone me. Vampy guys were all dug into snug graves nursing their hangovers. Or wherever v-guys slept when out of town. Was there a vampire motel chain? The Vampada Inn? The No-Tell Motel? Swan-necked Sylvia’s Bed-and-Breakfast?

Even without the threat of gang guys, Bo pressed me to use the limo. I nearly took him up on it, thinking I’d get farewell sex.

But Julian said he had to pack.

I hung around a bit before going. I thought maybe Julian would try to get me to visit Boston again. Even invite me to leave with him tonight. But Julian had phone calls to make.

And he had to pack.

So I left Julian to his packing. I wondered if he would even come say goodbye after sunset. Or if he was eager to just get the hell out of Dodge.

Maybe I should suck it up and visit him on my own. He’d asked once, after all. Visit him in his blue-blood, country-club Boston environs, where I’d see the Stuffius Lawyeranous in its natural habitat. Where both of us would see how painfully I did not fit in. I could go home and we could both move on.

I wiped my strangely wet cheeks. Hell. Maybe I could go to Boston but just hide out in Julian’s bedroom. After all, we fit there well enough. And on the sidewalk. And in limousines…double hell. How would I get along without him? And why hadn’t he at least tried one more time to get me to come?

As I passed each of the festival’s venues the sense of loss deepened. There was Nieman’s Bar, where Logan Steel had tromped everyone at sheepshead. Good Shepherd Church, where Thor and Gretchen “just said no” to a couple vampires and made it stick. The Fudgy Delight where Rocky Hrbek won the beauty contest and Elena got the crown. The Roller-Blayd factory where the music—

Where the music was still going.

I couldn’t quite hear details. Curious, I tried the door.

A saxophone was playing “Take Five”.

“Dirk?” I ran in. “Dirk, it’s Nixie! Oh, Dirk! You can stop now.”

On stage, Dirk Ruffles took his sax from a mouth so swollen it looked like a collagen implant gone wrong. He was wringing wet, sweat and spit both. He tottered to the edge of the stage where he didn’t so much sit as collapse.

“Dirk! The festival’s been over for hours. The bands were done days ago! Why were you still playing?”

“‘Ooo ’old ’ee ’oo ’ay,” he said in a voice thick from disuse. His swollen lips made the consonants into mush.

“What?”

“’oo,” he said, pointing at me. “’old,” making a talking motion with one hand. “’ee,” pointing at himself. Then he just pointed at the sax, lying on the stage.

“Me?” I said, getting it. “I told you to?”

When he nodded tiredly, I thought back. I’d asked him to cover for me, sure. But what exactly had I said that Dirk would still be playing days later…shit.

Wing it until I get back.

I had never come back.

Julian and I had been so busy chasing Lestats, protecting the blood, and protecting the festival that I had never come back.

And Dirk went on winging it.

“Oh, Dirk, honey!” I sat next to him on the stage, put an arm around him. “You must be exhausted.”

He nodded mournfully.

“I know just what’ll take care of that.” I dragged him to his feet. “Let’s go put something cool on those lips.”

“’ere?”

“Nieman’s Bar.” When he perked up, I knew I had a winner. And hell, I could use the amnesia.

 

 

 

I was pleasantly wasted by sunset. When Granny Butt came to dance I barely even noticed. I did swivel slightly on my stool, to watch the door. Sun was down, now. Any moment. Any moment he would come to say goodbye. Maybe he would even come in the limo. We could do a lot of goodbying on the way to O’Hare.

Two hours later I was totally crunk. Julian had not come.

“I don’t care,” I repeated to whoever would listen. “He’s just a stupid shrink-wrapped shark. A vacation fuck. I don’t care he didn’t say goodbye. And I especially don’t care I didn’t get goodbye sex. Buddy, gimme a refill.”

“That’s your fourth pitcher, Nixie.” Buddy was sweeping up after Granny’s latest promenade knocked all the peanuts to the floor.

“So? I’mn-not goin’ anywhere. Gimme a refill.”

“Why don’t you get a little fresh air first?” Buddy gave me a sympathetic look.

Sympathy, because a snarky lawyer stood me up. Skewer me and call me shish kabob, why don’t you? “I wanna refill!”

Buddy’s answer was to quietly take my glass and pitcher and put it in the washer.

“Fine. No tip.” I slapped a few yuppie food stamps on the bar, to cover both me and Dirk, who was still anesthetizing. I swung off my barstool and stomped away.

Only to find out I didn’t have my hoodie and jacket. Nothing spoils a dramatic exit like not exiting. When I finally found them ten minutes later (groping blindly like a Ph.D. in stupid), I left quietly.

It was dark out but no one cared. No one was going to sneak up on me and inform me in that highly aggrieved tone that I should not be out alone at night. I blinked rapidly. I was glad! I was glad oppressive Daddy was gone. I was…fuck.

I fell back against the brick of Nieman’s. My breath huffed out. I was not glad. I missed him. Only a few hours, and I missed Julian Emerson so much it was like a knife in my chest.

“There you are.”

The voice was female. I peered into the wet mists. Wiped my eyes with an angry swipe. Elena strode up to me.

“What are you doing here?” She took a sniff. “Have you been drinking?”

“I was drinking. Buddy cut me off.”

“Just in time. How are you going to enjoy the party if you’re drunk?”

“Party? What party…the mayor?” It occurred to me the mayor must have put together a shindig for the people who worked the festival. Strange that it was on a Monday night. But maybe that’s the only time he could get caterers to come. “No thanks. I don’t wanna drink bad wine and eat pusballs.” I stumbled toward home. My empty home, with no vampires in the basement…or in my bed.

Elena hooked my elbow. We spun like a mini merry-go-round, with me as the tiny pony. “Whoa!” She caught me by the shoulders. “You’re drunk already, aren’t you? Why?”

“Why?” I practically bleated it. “I’ll tell you why. And it has nothing to do with that hoagy lame-ass lawyer you brought in who turned out to be neither hoagy nor lame-ass.”

Elena marched me across the street. “You mean Julian?”

“It has nothing to do with him! Just because not-hoagy not-lame-ass dipped out without even a poke at goodbye sex—”

“Julian hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“But…but…” Finally I managed, “He was packing.”

“Well of course,” Elena said. “That’s what you do when you move.”

“He’s moving?” I blinked, my brain apparently still on daylight saving time. “Emerson’s moving?”

“I thought you knew.”

“You mean…he’s moving in with you and Bo?” Was it possible that Julian was staying in Meiers Corners?

But before I could even get a single hope up, Elena said, “Let me explain something.” She dragged me into a nearby doorway (it was the local comic book shop, closed for the night) and propped me up against the door. Casting a glance around her and apparently seeing no one, she said, “You need to house at least six human donors for each vampire. Our household is full. So Julian’s starting his own.”

“Joy and rapture.” Julian was starting a “household” in Boston. A household with sexy Julian and his human minions. Bye, Nixie. Hello, minions. Minions…and sex slaves too, no doubt. “How kewl. Another nest of vampires.”

“Nest of…certainly not!” Elena looked almost insulted. “A household is more like a co-op.”

“A co-op, uh-huh.”

Elena knew sarcasm when she heard it. “No, really. Good-guy vamps protect humans from rogues. In exchange, humans give the vampires the blood they need.”

“Sure. And sex has nothing to do with it.” I pictured Julian surrounded by his new “donors”. Six lovelies, his mouth at their throbbing arteries…oh, sure sex had nothing to do with it.

“It’s not about sex, Nixie! Good grief, what has Julian been telling you?”

“Come on. Why would anyone want to get bled, if not for the sex?”

Elena’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed dangerously. “I’ll tell you why. Fear.” She ticked up her index finger, directly in my face. “My sister Gretchen was attacked by a vampires. They killed her husband. She feels safer at Bo’s.”

“Oh. That makes some sense. But—”

“Security.” Elena raised her voice and ticked up a second finger. I had to turn my face not to get my nose roto-rooted. “Rogues often raid funeral homes for blood. Josiah Moss has to live with Stark just to stay in business.”

“But—”

“Tradition.” Another finger and a very dirty look. “Daniel Butler grew up in a vampire household. It’s his way of life.”

I couldn’t let that one pass. “Puh-leeze! Butler ‘donates’ blood because his father did? How medieval is that?”

“Householding’s been going on since Victorian times. Earlier. Think castles and manor houses. Hasn’t changed much since then.”

Huh. Daniel Butler really was a butler.

“There weren’t very many households, up until recently. But lately, the number of rogues has skyrocketed.”

“Because…?”

“No one knows, though we have some theories.” Elena shrugged and stepped back, finally out of my face. “But, bottom line, it means we need more protection. So Julian’s starting a new household.”

“In Boston.” I said it out loud this time, surprised by how much it hurt. The beer had pretty much numbed everything else. Why not my baka heart, too?

“No, in Meiers Corners.” Elena looked surprised. “On the southwest side of town. I thought you knew.”

“But…” I should have had a joygasm. Instead I felt awful. Julian was staying. He was staying and he hadn’t told me.

“The housewarming party’s tonight at eight.” Elena tugged on my arm. “C’mon. We need to put a move on or we’ll be late.”

“No!” I jerked away. “Not going nowhere.” Why wouldn’t Julian tell me he was staying, unless he didn’t want me anymore? I was no longer numb, just heavy. My legs, my heart…my head felt like a sixty-seven Chevy. I let it hang. “I don’t think I’m invited.”

“Of course you’re invited.” Elena tugged harder. “Now let’s get going before all the good party eats are gone.”

“The party,” said a cultured baritone, “was supposed to be a surprise.”

Julian! My head rose like a dying plant given a deluge of water. Or maybe my head was just attached to my heart. “What the hell, Law Boy? Where do you get off packing like you’re leaving and not saying goodbye and then not even leaving—” Anger burned off the last of the alcohol.

He grabbed me and kissed me. “I love you too.”

Damn. My lips flapped but nobody was home.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Julian repeated, his eyes intent on mine. “A good surprise.”

“I thought you were gone.” Forever, my heart added.

“I apologize. No, I’m sorry. I thought you knew I couldn’t leave without”—and here he rubbed his delectable hips against me in a blatantly sexy motion—“at least one more time.”

“Well, what do I know? Maybe I wasn’t that special.”

“Not that special?” Julian put me at arm’s length, a flabbergasted expression on his face. “I can’t even begin to explain how much you mean to me.” He shot a look at Elena. “At least not here.” He raised one eyebrow suggestively. Like he would do some explaining later…lots of hot, wet explaining. “Anyway, I have a present for you.”

I perked up immediately. “Present?”

“At home.”

“Okay.” I set off toward Elena’s.

“Our home.”

My stomach dropped. “Um…we have a home? As in, you and me?”

“Yes.”

“As in, four walls and a roof and a yard for the dog to play?”

“Yes.”

“As in, mortgage and responsibility?”

“It’s paid for,” Julian said. “And it’s more of a multi-family dwelling.”

“Oh, goody. All of the responsibilities and none of the conveniences.” Flippantly, I added, “How can we have sex in the backyard with the neighbors looking?”

“Privacy hedge.” The tips of his fangs peeked out. Ooh.

Elena crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Are we going or not? I want to see what you’ve done with the place. And I especially want to see Nixie’s present. Is it sparkly and ring-like?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, then I at least want to see what you’ve done with the place.”

 

The “house” turned out to be two side-by-side townhouses, four units each. A driveway separated them, leading back to a parking lot with garages. The buildings were two-storied, only the second story looked more like a roof. Shingles came all the way down the wall, and only a few small windows clued that it wasn’t actually an attic. Fortunately, picture windows on the first floor made the rest look open and inviting.

Elena eyed the setup critically. “Enough room for at least fourteen donors. That’s good. But if you’re in one building how will you protect the people in the other?”

“The buildings are connected at the basement level. There are a couple more apartments down there.”

“Oh! You’re taking on two lieutenants?”

“Since I’ll be out most nights, yes.”

“You’ll be out?” I thought he’d bought the place, decided to stay here, because he wanted to stay with me. Where was he going?

Julian smiled at me like he knew what I was thinking. “Guns and Polkas’ lead groupie.”

That made my panties twinkle. “Or Guns and Polkas’ lead viola da gamba.”

“Only if you add sixteenth-century bransles to your repertoire.”

“Sure, if you wear your twenty-first century leathers.”

Julian laughed out loud at that, surprising me. “Deal.”

A door banged open. Bo leaned out, a bottle of beer in one hand. “Hey you guys! Your party’s already started. Get in here!”

“Parties wait for no man.” I offered my elbow to Julian.

“Or vampire.” He took it and escorted me in.

The front room was crowded with bodies. It looked like Bo and Elena’s entire apartment building had shown up, along with half of Nieman’s. Julian introduced me to a few new people. An older couple with teenage sons named Mr. and Mrs. Hinz. Two young men, Richard and Andrew, who held each other and giggled.

“My donors,” Julian explained.

“Wow.” I yoinked a brew from a washtub of ice. “The mind boggles.”

“That I have donors?”

“That Doily Hartung isn’t the only gay in Meiers Corners. So are they donors out of fear, security, or tradition?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Elena gave me Donors 101. She said people don’t donate blood to you guys just for the sex.” Stashing the beer in a pocket I grabbed him by the ears and brought his head in close. “You don’t, right?” My eyes weren’t lasers, but I did try to bore through his head.

He blinked. “The Hinz family was attacked by rogues in Chicago. One of the Watch saved them. The Hinzes moved here because they’d heard about Bo. They were devastated that he didn’t have room for them and their kids. Practically mowed me down when they heard I was starting up a household.”

“And the other two? Richard and Andrew?” Rich and Andy were young and handsome. And they probably thought Julian was as delicious as I did.

“Similar to the Hinzes. Rich and Andy had a run-in with some rogues in San Francisco. Sweetheart, my ears.”

I let go. “And your household in Boston? Won’t your donors there miss you?” I tried to keep the pathetic jealousy out of my tone, but wasn’t entirely successful.

“I don’t have donors in Boston, Nixie. Or a household. I’ve been a troubleshooter for the Ancient One for the last fifty years. Running all over the country. I’m not home long enough to be master of a household.” Rubbing his ears, Julian frowned at me. “Why all the questions? What is going on in that sweet, curly-haired head of yours?”

“No donors? You don’t get regular sex…I mean blood?” I blushed, having Janet Jacksoned exactly what was going on in my baka head.

Julian looked as shocked as Elena had. “Donation isn’t about sex, Nixie. And even if it was, I’m not. For your information, I drink mostly bagged blood. Sometimes the households I visit will offer their donors. But it’s a courtesy. And I would never take advantage of it by making sexual advances.”

“But lore says vampires are like sex parties waiting to happen. Carnal-vals.” I had firsthand experience of that. “V-guys and gals can have sex with anyone. And make it orgasmic. So why wouldn’t they?”

“You mean why wouldn’t I.” Julian reached out to brush my hair tenderly from my forehead. “Yes, vampire senses are much keener than humans. Our skin feels pleasure on a level you can’t even imagine. We’re like walking erogenous zones.”

“Sounds painful.”

Julian threw back his head and laughed. He wore an open-necked polo shirt, and the sight of his strong bronzed throat nearly made me want to turn vampy, just so I could bite it. Not about sex, hah.

“Vampires can have sex with anyone. And many frequently do. But because of our heightened senses, some people are much more appealing than others. Scent, sound, feel. Taste.” He took me in his arms, bent to kiss my nose. A soft purr started.

“So I’m…appealing? Like a juicy burger?”

“You’re beyond appealing. You’re perfect to me.” Julian’s lips touched my cheek, temple, ear. His tongue swept lightly over the small hairs on the lobe, making me vibrate with anticipation. “You’re a delight to my senses, all of them. You’re sweet, tasty, and supple, and a balm to my soul. With just a bit of tart personality for tang. And there’s more.”

“Wait—there’s more,” I echoed, eyes closing. “If you order now, you get Hemoglobin Flavored Intimacy Gel with Tartar Control…for that special fangy guy in your life.”

He chuckled, kind of weird frosted with purr. “Nixie, have you ever wondered why, in all the times I did my ‘Obi-Wan’ as you call it, you were never affected?”

“Huh?”

“You were present at least twice when I used suggestion to alter people’s perceptions.”

“You mean your mystic mind-control thing?”

“That’s my artless Nixie.”

“Have I been insulted?”

Julian laughed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, tonight. Like he was…happy or something. “I can’t manipulate you, Nixie. I’m old enough to compel most people and many vampires. Of course, I can’t manipulate myself. And I can’t manipulate you.”

“Is that important?”

“It is if we want to share the rest of our lives.”

My heart started to pound double-time. Fear? Or excitement? “Well. I guess. So, um…so you aren’t in it for the sex.”

“You’re the only one I have sex with, Nixie. And now that I’ve found you, you’re the only one I want to have sex with. Because it’s more than sex. It’s a joining. We’re two halves of the same whole, you and I.”

Thinking of how snugly his Tab A fit in my Slot B, I shuddered in agreement.

“Now let me show you around.” Julian took my hand and walked me through his…our new home. The townhouses had been modified extensively, with connecting hallways and several common areas. There were still separate entrances and the illusion of separate units, but he showed me the entire place without going outside once.

The most interesting thing was the bedrooms. Though there were windows galore in the other rooms, none of the bedrooms had windows. And the bedroom doors were reinforced so heavily they looked like entrances to a bank vault.

I ran my hand over one of the doors, feeling cool steel under my fingers. “What’s with the bedrooms? They’re like bomb shelters.”

“For protection. The vampire population is increasing rapidly. We don’t get a lot of rogues here, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“So when the bloodthirsty hordes attack, humans will have a safe place to sleep? I thought older vamps could mist in.”

“That’s why the walls are reinforced with metal. And electrified.” Julian drew me into a bedroom and closed the door. He shot a deadbolt with a quick twist. To my surprise, a green light flicked on, and the room seemed to hum. “Logan Steel discovered vampires can’t get through electrified walls. Not even as mist.”

“The bedroom walls are live?”

“Only when the locks are engaged.” Julian unbolted and opened the door.

“Oh.” I followed him out into the hallway. “How many people will base here?”

“We could fit as many as fifty donors, but that wouldn’t leave room for children and old ones.”

“Excuse me. Did you say ‘old ones’?”

“Children and the elderly can’t donate. Not safely.” Julian shrugged. “Have to think of things like that.”

“Responsibility.” I shook my head. “So how many people do we have to think of things like that for?”

“Couple dozen, more or less. It won’t be so bad. I’ll hire a housekeeper and cook.”

“Live-in?” I asked, brightening.

Julian only smiled. “We’ll have plenty of people to share the burden of responsibility. A couple dozen adults. Two other vampires.”

“Vampires in the basement,” I said, remembering Ruthven.

“Not just vampires,” Julian replied, tracing a finger up my neck. “You and I will sleep in the basement.”

“Together? I don’t suppose you’d like to show me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He took my hand and led me down.

The double basement was divided into two sides. On one side were washers and driers, workbench and pool table. On the other side was a hallway.

“Over here.” He opened a door and flipped on a light. “I thought this could be our room.”

The room revealed was bright and airy. I poked my head in, saw a door off the side, open to what looked like Mediterranean tile. Another seemed to lead to a walk-in closet.

Like Julian’s bedroom at Bo’s, this room had soft, luxurious carpet. I stepped in, felt my feet sink in bliss.

After indulging a few moments, I opened my eyes and looked around. Not only the carpet was the same. I recognized that ocean-sized bed, two-foot thick mattress looking soft as cotton candy. “Is that from Bo’s?”

“Well…yes. You seemed to like it.”

“Oh, yeah. I had some ideas to try out. You did this for me?”

Julian shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know if you’d want to move in with me. I wanted to offer you some enticement.”

“Julian, this is the best present I could have asked for.”

“It’s not your present.”

“It isn’t? But—”

“Your present’s upstairs.”

“No. My present is right here. Or at least it will be.” And I pulled his yummy face down to mine and kissed him.