William (4 page)

I was never much for wine in the morning, but
the French were French. I took the glass and politely raised it to
him.

"To new beginnings," he said. We drank, and
he gave me a little smirk before beginning to wander aimlessly
about the room. He was dressed in sharp silk suit dyed the same
charcoal hue of my vest, the whole nine yards embroidered with
vines and flowers in shimmering silver thread. More than a bit
foppish for my tastes, but of course he carried it off; and, well,
the French were French. "Tell me, when did you last see him?"

Shit, that was good wine. I swirled the glass
and took a whiff of it, my lips pulling into an appreciative bow.
"A week ago," I replied. "Last Wednesday."

"Gone upstate, I presume." He wrinkled his
face in distaste. "Hiding in his horrid little cave. What do you
call that awful plant he keeps? The one that tickles the
nose?""

"I don't know." I propped a shoulder against
a bookshelf, watching him warily. "Eucalyptus? Camphor?"

"Camphor!" Theo turned back around with a
snap of his fingers. "That's it! I detest the shit. Always makes me
think of sickness." Setting his glass on the mantle, he reached
into his pocket and produced a beaded sweet-bag, from which he drew
a little ebony pipe.

"How are you not besieged by pickpockets
every night?"

Theo gave me a sly glance. "What do you
suppose happens if I am?" He lit the pipe and shook out his match,
then hung a hand in his pocket and cocked a hip, looking at me like
his standing there was the most natural thing in the world.

Since he wasn’t about to explain himself, I
asked the obvious question. "What brings you here after all these
weeks?"

"It has been that long, hasn't it? Despite
all odds." Theo took a few puffs from the pipe, studying me with a
cooler look. As if it were
my
fault Merrick was taking his
time!

For all his flounce and fancy, Theo was
hardly a creature to be taken lightly. The first time I met him was
when he hired two thugs to grab me on the street, tie me up in
ropes and deposit me into his carriage so that he could forcibly
deliver me back to Merrick. And that was nothing: I believed
wholeheartedly that Theo was prepared to make good on his threat to
kill me if Merrick destroyed himself. There wasn't the slightest
doubt in my mind. Frankly, I wasn't even sure I could bet on him
doing it nicely.

"Had a change of heart, morsel?"

This again? I rolled my eyes and threw up my
hand with a sigh.

"Oh?" Theo's brows arched again. "Am I not
the first who's asked?"

Shit. Something about his tone made me wonder
whether my reaction was a misstep. "I've had no change of heart," I
said, ignoring his second question. "Merely too much time to
think."

"Yes, I warned him about that." Those
sparkling blue eyes stayed on me, watching me keenly. "It's a shame
he has to make such a mess of it."

"What do you want?" I asked again. "Have you
come to abduct me again?"

Theo snorted. "Non. I did consider it." He
pivoted on his heel and floated down into the nearest chair,
propping an elbow on the arm and brushing a lock of hair from his
brow. For a moment he stared toward the ceiling, frowning
thoughtfully. "Surely he’ll give in this time around."

There was a pause as I mulled over whether or
not to say anything. I hardly considered Theo a confidant. But
however much it dismayed me, I was desperate for anything I could
take as counsel—and he was the only one fit to address my
circumstances. "He said this would be his last time away. And then
it will be done."

The French vampire's eyes lit upon me at
once. "And this pleases you?" At my nod, he closed his eyes and
laughed in relief. "
Merde!
You should have told me right
away. I was afraid the whole thing might fall through."

"What do you mean?" I asked warily.

"Well, you look so wretched," Theo said with
a swirl of his hand, as though it were obvious. "And Silas, well.
If he doubted your conviction, who knows what could happen at the
last moment?"

"You mean to say that he would renege?" My
spine felt cold suddenly.

"
Renege?
" The vampire arched a
sardonic brow at me, either to mock my language or to say I should
know better. "He was never a willing party."

"Speak plainly for once," I demanded. "Are
you honestly implying he’d abandon me to die by your hands?"

Theo blinked innocently, poisonous angel. "I
said no such thing." But then he pinned his lips lightly between
his teeth and dipped his chin to look up at me through his lashes.
"But the thought must keep you up at night."

Bastard. I stepped forward to set my glass
hard on the nearest table, then turned on my heel and headed out of
the room. A trail of surprised laughter followed me as he called my
name.

Normally I would hold myself above such a
dramatic exit, but I had no stomach for his biting smirks, his
silky condescension. Not now. Ignoring him, I yanked my jacket from
the hook near the door and turned to the mirror to don my hat.
Christ, I did look wretched. My mouth was a grim line, my cheeks
tense and sunken, my eyes half in shadow. Death's head on a
mop-stick.

Had I appeared so despondent to Merrick?
Would that really cause him to abandon the whole thing in a last
fit of resolve? It was terrifying, that resolve. Of course he would
not let Theo kill me. But what if he decided death was a better
fate than he had for me, and decided to kill me himself? No! I
shook my head, cursing myself for the thought.

"Must we go out?" Theo complained, ambling
down the hallway with his cloak about his shoulders once more.

Of course I would not escape his company. Of
course not. No one could tell a vampire whether to go or stay, or
when enough was enough. Did I not know that very well? I reeled on
him in a flash of anger. "Must you amuse yourself at my
expense?"

Theo pursed his lips, eyes gleaming with
amusement. "Must you be so tender about it?"

"Why must you be here at all?" I snapped. "I
have no patience for your insufferable games!"

"
Mon dieu
, but the self-importance
never ceases to amaze me," Theo tsked, and then changed his tone to
unleash his not-so-secret weapon. "Very well, Will-iam." He spread
his hands and lowered his head contritely. "I see my old friend has
fully
prepared you for what lies ahead, and you have
no
need of my counsel. Forgive my
presumptuous
intrusion." He gave his lowest bow yet, holding a hand to his heart
as though to underscore his sincerity, and then moved toward the
door with his eyes downcast.

As he passed behind me, I slowly covered my
face with my hand.

Was he going to make me stop him? Damn him.
He opened the door. Damn him to Hell, the vile, conniving snake. My
heart dropped as I heard his boot hit the front step, tightening
the noose on my last chance for counsel...

"Then again," Theo said slowly, and pivoted
as smoothly as a marionette. He held one finger lightly to his
lower lip, denting his sensitive frown. "Perhaps you are simply too
timid to inquire."

This was his idea of mercy, I reckoned, of
saving my pride. And perfectly calculated—just another of the
nimble melodies he played for his own amusement. My God, I wanted
to pound his head. I pulled my hand down my face, letting out a
measured sigh.

"All right,
mon ami
. Say no more. I
will accompany you to supper." With that kindly announcement, Theo
stepped aside to allow my passage outside.

I made myself a promise: One day, when I was
a vampire, I would slap him silly.

Despite my sour mood, it was a relief to be
outside in the fresh air. The sky was crowded with bold, silvery
clouds, and though the sun shone a bright white between them, the
road was damp and the fresh scent of rain hung in the air. I heard
Theo breathe in deeply and exhale with satisfaction.

"I always wished they could bottle that
scent," he said, his face now hidden in the shadow of his velvet
hood.

Despite the fact that Theo had infuriated me
moments before, I suddenly found myself relieved that he had not
taken his leave at my command.

Why? Why would I be glad to have him by my
side? Perhaps because, for the first time in a long while, I had no
need to hide what was foremost on my mind. Theo was not Jeremy—he
knew my circumstances as well as I did. Nor was he Merrick—no cloud
of doubt hung over us, no gloom or dread, no burden of restraint.
So damn the wretch all the same, but I had to admit his company was
freeing, in a way.

That said, I supposed I could make the effort
to be civil. Not that I cared for Theo's opinion, but his wrinkled
nose and looks of distaste had called attention to the sorry state
I'd slipped into since Merrick's last departure. It was about time,
I gathered, to pull myself together. I hadn't accomplished anything
by being a slovenly grump.

"I must beg your pardon," I said rather
nobly, "for my poor manners. I have not been myself."

Theo snorted, the little shit, and then asked
without missing a beat, "Where are we off to? One of your taverns
or your brothels?"

"Don't be absurd." If I wasn't mistaken,
there was genuine interest in his voice. Likely he hoped to pick up
a meal. What a sickening thought. That was one of the many less
savory things about Theo. While Merrick only hinted at his
nocturnal reality as a distant abstraction, Theo had no
reservations about what, exactly, it meant to be a vampire. Theo
killed without shame, and wasn’t coy about it.

"I’m not being absurd,” Theo said. “I quite
like your little corner of the city. A ragged bunch, your lot, but
it's all in the spirit of the age. Poets, pamphleteers and
prostitutes—the seeds and fruits of revolution, non?"

I couldn’t help but snort, for he did turn a
pretty phrase on occasion. "All the same, I doubt you’d make out
well on the waterfront. Your silks would be spoiled with a
handshake."

"Please, morsel. You think I've lived
two-hundred and eighty years without dirtying my hands?"

"I have not the slightest idea," I sighed,
more to myself than to him. "Not an inkling."

"No, you don't, do you! I sometimes
forget."

A neighbor on horseback trotted our way,
eying the two of us with a startled look. He returned my polite
nod, but turned his head to track us as he passed. Theo's cloak may
have protected him from the sun, but it certainly did not help him
slip through this part of the city unnoticed. Hoods weren’t exactly
in fashion for men, and unlike Merrick, he did not have the grace
or quiet authority to carry it off discreetly. No, he had to go
with navy blue velvet, and cut in the Spanish style to show his
slender thighs, his gleaming black boots. Who could have imagined
an ancient creature could be so flamboyant?

Theo paid the passerby no mind. "Well, the
nearest coffee shop, then."

"Very well. Jude's on Court Street." Jude's
Coffee Shop was frequented by visiting merchants and other
travelers who came at the suggestion of the innkeepers along the
river nearby. As such it was markedly overpriced, but I hardly had
reason to watch my expenses anymore. The important thing was that
there was little chance I'd meet anyone I knew while I was in
Theo's company.

"What a strange place to be born," the
vampire remarked out of the blue.

"Greenwich?"

"New York, chicken. America."

"Coming from a Frenchman."

"I'm not a Frenchman in public," he warned,
and when I looked at him, he smoothly dropped the purred
inflections of his native tongue in favor of a much more familiar
drawl. "Here I'm Benjamin Corrington, tobacco man from
Virginia."

"So you can be discreet."

"You are such a little beast, Will-iam. I
don't know how I put up with it."

I shook my head, grimacing faintly at the
sky. "Charity, I gather." It felt like it was going to rain again.
The breeze was fresh off the river, which ran along our path just
out of sight. I had considered, earlier in the week, hiring a sloop
to take me up north to Croton, where I could perhaps acquire a
horse and a guide to Mayriver, and from there recall the trail to
Merrick's cottage in the woods. But Merrick might return before
then, and what a tragedy it would be to miss each other by
miles...

"Frankly I hoped this city would be bigger by
the time I arrived," Theo continued, slipping back into his usual
accent. "And then of course Silas would insist on living a mile of
mud and grass away from civilization."

"What did you do in France?" I asked, seeing
how much of a say I might have in the conversation. "Are you from
Paris?"

"Marseilles. Born to the best
tailleur
in France; now I'm the best in the world. Exclusively at my own
service, of course."

I raised my eyebrows, looking at him. "You
don't mean to say you handle your own nine yards?"

"I do."

"A fine craft, that." I could hardly pretend
I wasn’t impressed. The cut of his clothes made me green, though
I’d be damned before I’d admit it. "But what happened, then? You
told me once you had a master, and he made you a vampire."

"Ah, you want to hear my tale.” I could hear
the smirk on his face. “Yes, that was true. I was orphaned in 1532,
when I was just a boy. The plague had come back to port, and
Marseilles never fared well with the plague. So my father decided
not to try our luck again. I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen real
pestilence, have you?”

“No. Only heard stories.” I could have told
him how my mother’s people had been cut down by disease, how her
eyes went dim at the mention of it. But we weren’t talking about
me. “I’ve read of those days in the Old World. The horror.”