Vampire, Interrupted

Chapter Eight

"We're here," Tiny announced as the train began to slow.
Marguerite looked out her window, eyes drifting over twinkling lights in the darkness and then they were pulling into the large, well-lit train station. The sound of the pneumatic door drew her attention and she glanced around to see Julius and Marcus returning inside. Julius offered her a reassuring smile as he paused at the luggage rack just inside the door and began lifting down their luggage.
They obviously weren't going to get the chance to discuss things for a while, Marguerite realized and was almost relieved. She needed time to adjust to everything that was happening.
She stood and joined him at the rack. When he pulled down her suitcase and set it on the floor before her, she caught it by the handle and then followed him into the corridor to wait for the doors to open so they could disembark.
Marguerite had never been to York and found herself peering around with wide-eyed delight as they left the train station and walked the short block to pass under the arched entrance of the wall surrounding the city. It was like stepping back into her past and she felt a sense of homecoming as they made their way along the sidewalk running parallel to the old roman wall that surrounded the city.
In her mind, she could see the guards who would have been minding the entrance and the wall, and imagined the people moving about in medieval dress. This feeling intensified once they'd crossed the bridge over the river that wove its way into the city. Here the buildings crowded together, an eclectic mix of modern, Victorian, and even medieval buildings. When the cobbled roads and snickleways began to appear, she knew they had arrived in the city center and found herself unaccountably happy, the feeling wiping away the last of the confusion and concern she'd been suffering when leaving the train.
"Here we are," Julius murmured, glancing from the notepad he held in his hand to the brass number beside the door of a townhouse as he came to a halt.
Marguerite's eyebrows rose as she glanced around. She'd expected a hotel, but it seemed they were staying in a proper townhouse. An expensive luxury she was sure. It would not be cheap to own a home in the center of the city and the owner would charge an exorbitant fee for renting it. "This place is supposed to accommodate for sleep eight to twelve. I rented it before I realized Dante and Tommaso wouldn't be with us," Julius explained as he led them to the door. It was opened just before they reached it and a small, florid-faced man smiled out at them.
"Mr. Notte?" he asked, his smile widening even further when Julius nodded. He immediately stepped back to allow them entry. "Come in! Come in! My, the train must have been on time for a change. A miracle that with the state of our trains nowadays, they're forever breaking down and causing delays and switches."
"Fortunately that didn't happen this time," Marguerite said when Julius merely nodded as he retrieved a prewritten check from his wallet and handed it over.
The man beamed at her as if she'd said something clever, and then peered at the check. Apparently finding everything in order, he handed Julius an envelope. "There are two keys in there. I'm afraid it's all we have. Heavy curtains have been placed in all the bedrooms to block out the sunlight as you asked, and the groceries you ordered were delivered earlier so I put them away for you. My home and mobile number are in the envelope in case you have any problems and need to contact me."
"Thank you." Julius accepted the envelope.
"Now I'll get out of your way and let you settle in," the man said with a nod. "Enjoy your stay."
Marguerite followed Julius farther up the hall, taking her suitcase with her so that the men behind her could make way for the man to leave, then left her suitcase there and followed Julius on a quick tour of the main floor. Despite Julius's claim that it was supposed to accommodate eight to twelve people, it was all very small and compact. A door on the right led into a living room with sofas arranged against two walls. A fireplace took up the third wall, and a big screen television filled the other. It wasn't very roomy but the decor was tasteful.
Moving up the hall, Marguerite peered into the kitchen, noting that while there was a lot of cupboard space and all the modern gizmos, the refrigerator was a mini-fridge and the dining table only sat four. It seemed the eight to twelve were expected to eat in shifts. Hearing Julius grunt with displeasure behind her, she bit her lip on a smile of amusement and then stepped around him to open the last door in the hall. This led into a small half-bathroom, again, tastefully decorated.
"I'm almost afraid to look upstairs," Julius admitted, peering over her shoulder into the tiny room.
Chuckling, Marguerite closed the door and retrieved her suitcase to take it upstairs.
"This is England," she reminded him as she led the way upstairs. "An island smaller than the lower half of Ontario but with twice the population of all of Canada. Everything is small and compact here."
"Hmm," Julius muttered, peering over her shoulder as she opened the first of four doors leading off the landing. It led into a small bedroom with a double bed taking up most of the space, the rest of the room was filled with a wardrobe and dresser. There wasn't room for anything else. The second door led to another bedroom, the same size and set-up. The third door was to a bathroom, this time a full bathroom with a tub, sink, and toilet, though they were crammed in pretty tightly. The last door led to the largest bedroom. This one held a double bed wardrobe, and dresser like the other two, but also had a bunk bed.
"This is supposed to fit eight to twelve?" Julius asked with disbelief.
Marguerite shrugged. "Two in each double bed, two in the bunk beds... and probably the sofas in the living room pull out into beds."
"Thank God Vita called this morning and asked me to send the boys back to Italy to help her," he muttered with a shake of the head. "As it is, Marcus won't be happy stuck in here with Christian and Tiny."
She grinned. "Going to stick him with the boys, are you?"
"Well, I can hardly make you share a room with them, and I'm paying for it so I'll be damned if I bunk with them," Julius said with a shrug, but he was grinning too. "Which room do you want?"
Laughing softly, she turned and rolled her suitcase to the first bedroom they'd looked at. "I'll take this one."
Marguerite slipped into the room and closed the door as the others started up the stairs. She set her suitcase on the bed and began to unpack, chuckling when she heard the exclamations of horror as the men discovered they would be bunking together. They had been spoiled by the suites in the hotel. But then so had she, she admitted.
Once again, being the lone female was a benefit, she thought with amusement. Her room was small, but it was all hers.
Once she'd finished unpacking, Marguerite made her way back downstairs. The living room was empty, so she followed the murmur of voices to the kitchen, smiling faintly when she entered to find Tiny chopping up vegetables and cursing Julius for eating them as quickly as he could clean and cut them. She wasn't at all surprised to find Tiny cooking again. The man loved to cook and had done a lot of it in California. She knew these last three weeks of hotel and restaurant fare had probably been a trial for him.
"Marguerite," he said with relief when she walked into the room, "get the guys out of here so I can cook in peace."
"I'm not doing anything," Christian protested at once. "Neither is Marcus. It's all father."
"I am trying to be helpful," Julius said calmly, pinching another mushroom as soon as Tiny finished cleaning it. He then turned to Marguerite to explain, "The refrigerator is jam packed with food and there's no room for blood. We need to make room. The more I eat, the less has to go back in and the more room there is for blood."
Marguerite laughed at his perfectly logical explanation as she joined him to peer down at the vegetables available.
"What are you making?" she asked Tiny.
"Spaghetti Bolognaise," he muttered, scowling when she pinched the next mushroom he finished and popped it in her own mouth. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, he said, "Marguerite."
"Sorry," she apologized and then taking pity on him glanced around at the three immortals and said, "I wouldn't mind taking a walk to see a little bit of the city."
Julius nodded at once and straightened away from the table, asking Tiny, "How long until it's ready?"
"Take your time," the detective said with obvious relief. "The longer it simmers the better. A couple of hours would be good. I won't start the noodles until you return."
Julius's eyebrows rose, but he nodded and took Marguerite's arm to lead her out of the kitchen.
"Wait!" Marguerite said, glancing over her shoulder with alarm when neither Christian nor Marcus made any move to join them. "Aren't you two coming?"
"They have to see if they can get their hands on something to keep the bagged blood in," Julius answered for them as he led her out of the townhouse. Once the door was closed behind them, he explained, "There really isn't room in the mini-fridge."
Marguerite glanced back to the townhouse unhappily, but merely sighed and said, "It could be difficult. We've found during our three weeks here in England that most stores seem to close early, around five or six o'clock."
"You say it as if that's unusual. What time do stores and offices close in Canada?" Julius asked curiously. Marguerite shrugged. "Usually until nine, sometimes even ten o'clock. And a few grocery stores remain open twenty-four hours. It's much more convenient for our kind."
"It would be," Julius agreed.
They continued to talk about the differences between England and both their homes, Julius sharing some details about life in Italy while she spoke of Canada, neatly avoiding any discussion about what was really on both their minds, the fact that they were lifemates. However, it was like a big pink elephant walking behind them, impossible to forget or ignore.
They turned down a perfectly preserved medieval street, the cobbled lane narrow and curving. It was lined with half-timbered buildings, their second stories hanging out quite a distance over the ground floor. Marguerite found it hard to believe they still existed and in such good order, but was delighted that they had.
Julius noted her expression and smiled, then suddenly caught her arm and tugged her quickly off the road and into a narrow snickleway between buildings.
"Is something wrong?" she asked with surprise, glancing out to the road in an effort to see what had made him draw her here out of the way. Perhaps a delivery vehicle was trying to negotiate the small amount of space afforded by the narrow lane. Certainly, they had to make their deliveries at some point in the day and doing so in the evening when the shops were closed and the streets less busy seemed reasonable, but there was no vehicle. The road was dark and quiet, with just a few people hurrying along, making their way home or to wherever they were going.
"It's like stepping back in time," she whispered.
"Yes," Julius agreed, a strange tautness to his voice. "I can imagine you in a long dress and cape, a silly bonnet on your head, smiling at something I said and that smile moving me to draw you here, to the privacy of the shadows to kiss you for the first time."
When she glanced at him in surprise for the moment of whimsy, he did kiss her, his lips soft and sweet as they brushed across hers.
Marguerite opened her eyes when he ended the gentle caress to find him peering at her almost expectantly. Raising her eyebrows, she pointed out, "But this wouldn't be our first kiss. That was on the' train."
His breath slid out with what almost seemed disappointment, and he nodded. "Yes, of course."
She peered at him quizzically, but he managed a smile and urged her back onto the street. After several moments passed in silence, Marguerite tried to start up the conversation again by saying, "I have always wanted to come here."
Julius glanced at her sharply. "Surely, you've been here before."
She shook her head, "Jean Claude refused to come."
"And you never came by yourself?"
"I've never been by myself... well, until he died. I was fifteen when we met and he tended to prefer to make all the decisions," she said grimly, then changed the subject by asking, "Have you been here before?"
Julius nodded solemnly. "It is where I met Christian's mother."
Marguerite's eyes widened at this admission, her mind immediately shifting to the case as he took her arm to urge her to turn right. Coming here to speak to Martine had obviously been the perfect move. Her sister-in-law had always loved the city and maintained a home here even when she could not live here herself but was forced to move elsewhere for several decades to prevent her lack of aging from raising questions. Other family members often stayed in the home while she was away, enjoying the city for a number of years before they were forced to move on themselves.
"You met Christian's mother here," Marguerite said thoughtfully, quite sure that Martine would be able to help them after all. Christian had been born in 1491. She couldn't recall if Martine had been in York during that time, she herself and Jean Claude had been on a European tour. She would have to call Martine the moment they returned to the townhouse and arrange a visit. Marguerite was suddenly quite sure they were very close to finding Christian his answers.
"I can see your mind working on that one," Julius said with wry amusement.
Marguerite glanced at him, her eyebrows drawing together. "I understand that you're trying to protect Christian by keeping his mother's identity from him, but surely he now knows the worst of it? Surely there is no longer a reason to keep her identity a secret?"
"It is complicated," Julius said evasively.
"And dangerous if that attack on me truly was an attempt to end the investigation," she pointed out. "Once he knows the truth the danger may be at an end."
Julius frowned, but shook his head helplessly. "I can't tell."
"Why?"
"It is difficult to explain," he said, sounding frustrated and then muttered, "she was not who I thought she was."
Marguerite frowned trying to understand. "You mean she gave you a false name?"
"Something like that," Julius muttered and suddenly turned her toward the door of a cafe. "I am hungry."
Despite his claim of hunger, Julius only purchased a cookie to go with the cappuccino he ordered. Marguerite followed suit and, finding all the tables occupied on the main floor, they took their trays with them to look for seating on the upper floor.
The cafe was obviously a popular spot, serving both caffeinate drinks and alcoholic beverages. A corner building, it had two walls that looked out onto the streets on the upper floor. They were made up of long rows of glass offering a view of the city lights sparkling in the darkness. The seating was comfortable, split between wooden table and chairs and groupings of overstuffed chairs and couches.
Marguerite and Julius settled themselves in one of the corner groupings, Julius settling in a plump leather chair while she curled up in the corner of the sofa beside him and began to sip at the frothy drink she'd chosen. It had been a long time since she'd partaken of food as she was now doing and Marguerite didn't recall anything like this from that period in her life, but was surprisingly good, she decided, especially with loads of sugar added.
They stayed to talk for quite a while at the cafe, but were on their way back and nearly home when Julius's phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, he flipped it open and listened briefly before closing it and slipping it back in his pocket.
"Tiny just wanted to be sure we were on our way back. Dinner is ready," he announced.
They returned to the townhouse to find Tiny's sauce bubbling on the stove. Water was boiling in a second pot, but the men were nowhere in sight. Spotting a letter beside the stove, she moved to pick it up, eyes widening as she read it. The other three had already eaten and gone out to look around York. They planned to tour the pubs and see what the nightlife here was like, as well as find the aforementioned storage for blood. Tiny had left instructions on boiling time for the spaghetti noodles. All they had to do was dump in the noodles then wait eight or ten minutes, drain them and serve with the sauce over it, he'd instructed.
Marguerite lowered the note and peered toward the table. It was already set for two, including candles and a bottle of wine corked and left to breathe. It all looked terribly romantic. Her gaze slid to Julius, then away. "I'll start the noodles."
"I'll pour the wine," Julius offered.
Picking up the box of noodles, Marguerite ripped it open, and then poured the contents into the pot wondering as she did if there would be enough for the two of them. It didn't seem like much. Shrugging inwardly, she stood stirring them as she waited for the suggested time to pass. Marguerite wasn't sure if she needed to stir them, Tiny hadn't said so, but she was suddenly terribly uncomfortable with Julius and was glad of the excuse to keep herself busy.
It turned out there was more than enough spaghetti. Marguerite feared a good deal of it would go to waste when she drained the pot and saw how much the noodles had swollen in the water. There was little she could do about it at that point, however, so she left half of them in the pot, splitting the rest between the two plates and spooning the sauce over it, her mouth watering as the chunks of meat, mushrooms, and other ingredients in the spicy tomato sauce spilled over the noodles.
"Let me get those," Julius offered, taking the plates when she picked them up. Marguerite followed him to the table, took the seat he indicated, and closed her eyes as she inhaled the smells wafting off the plate. Tiny was obviously a good cook. She hadn't appreciated that in California, but now that she was eating again, the smells wafting off the food he'd made were almost making her dizzy with delight. It tasted just as delicious as it smelled. Marguerite ate several bites before trying her wine. She'd barely lifted the glass to her lips and taken a sip when Julius spoke.
"We are lifemates."
Marguerite choked, spitting wine out in every direction as she coughed and sputtered.
"I'm sorry," Julius muttered, jumping up to grab a dish towel to wipe up the mess she'd made. He began mopping up the table with one hand, while thumping her back with the other.
"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.
Marguerite nodded, but her continued hacking rather negated the action. When the fit finally ended, she sagged back in her seat and eyed him with disbelief. He'd just brought the pink elephant into the room and dropped it on her lap. For heaven's sake! "I'm sorry," Julius muttered, dropping back in his own seat with a sigh. "Not the most delicate approach was it?"
A small laugh burst from her lips, and Marguerite pressed them tightly closed, aware the sound had verged on hysteria. They stared at each other, his expression assessing, hers wary.
"What are we going to do about it?" he asked finally.
Marguerite swallowed, her eyes dropping to her glass of wine. She ran one finger nervously over the round base of the glass as she sought a response, but finally asked, "Do we have to do anything about it for now? I mean," she added quickly when his eyes narrowed. "There is no need to really do anything at all. We are immortals and appear to be lifemates."
"We are lifemates, Marguerite. There is no appear about it," he growled.
"Okay," she acknowledged on a sigh. "But I am here on business. I have to concentrate on Christian's case. Once that is done, perhaps we could take the time to get to know each other and..." Her voice trailed away as she saw the expression on his face. She'd been trying to be calm and logical, gain herself a little breathing space to deal with it. He wasn't looking terribly calm or logical. Julius's eyes were blazing, the silver flaring and consuming the black of his eyes. They had looked the same way in the bathroom on the train she recalled.
Marguerite licked her lips nervously, and then paused when she saw his gaze follow the action. The air in the room was suddenly electric and she was unexpectedly flooded with an overwhelming need she was sure had come from him. Her heart rate sped up, blood moving swiftly through her veins as her breathing became shallow. It was all too much, too sudden, too intense.
Standing abruptly, Marguerite turned away from the table, unsure where she was even going except that she couldn't breathe, there seemed to be no oxygen in the room, she needed air. She hurried out of the kitchen and up the hall, hearing the crash of his chair over balancing as Julius leapt to his feet to follow.
Marguerite reached the foot of the stairs before he caught up and then suddenly he was in front of her, ruling her vision.
Julius started to pull her roughly against him, but paused when he saw her face. His expression was both surprised and concerned as he growled, "You're afraid. Why?"
She shook her head helplessly. "I have not been with anyone but Jean Claude. What if I--"
Julius silenced her with his mouth. Marguerite could feel the violence in him as he claimed her with that kiss, but while his mouth and hands were demanding, they were not mindlessly so. She had no fear that he wouldn't stop if she asked and, at first, balanced on the edge between asking him to stop or kissing him back. Marguerite didn't stay there long. His hands were roving over her body and she began to kiss him back, her arms creeping around his neck as he pressed his hands along her back, sculpting her to him. She then gasped into his mouth as they reached her behind and cupped there, lifting and pressing her against his hardness, grinding their bodies together.
Marguerite groaned with disappointment when he eased her back on to her feet, and then again when he broke their kiss, but her heart leapt in her chest and she jerked slightly in his arms with startled pleasure as he suddenly lowered his mouth to close it over her nipple through the silk of the blouse and chemise. She withstood the heated sensations that caused for a moment, but then tugged on his hair, bringing his mouth back to hers.
Marguerite kissed him passionately then, her need mingling with his and swirling inside her as he turned them both and pressed her against the wall. When he broke their kiss to trail his lips along her cheek, she sought out his ear, finding and licking the hollow behind it and shivering as it sent pleasure radiating through them both.
She felt him tugging at her blouse, pulling it from the waist band of her skirt, and immediately set to work on his shirt buttons, suddenly eager to feel his naked flesh against her own. In the next moment she gasped and forgot the buttons, her legs going weak as his hand slid beneath her untucked top and chemise, sliding over her flesh to close around one taut breast.
Sensing her weakness, Julius slid his thigh between both of hers to help her stay up right, and then returned his mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue inside as he toyed with one erect nipple. It set off a clamoring inside her that radiated through her body as if she were a tuning fork.
Clutching at his shoulders, Marguerite bit lightly on his tongue and shifted her body, grinding herself against his thigh, then reached down to find him through the cloth of his pants.
Julius immediately gave up toying with her breast and began to pull her short, tight skirt up until he had it bunched around her waist. He then reached between them, sliding his hand inside her panties and caressing her briefly. Moaning as the need overwhelmed her, Marguerite quickly undid his trousers and tugged him free of his boxers, her hand encasing and squeezing him encouragingly.
Growling, Julius immediately slid his hand from between her legs, caught her by the upper legs and lifted her, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Marguerite did, her hand releasing him to catch around his shoulders to help hold her weight as he lowered her, driving into her.
They broke the kiss, both crying out as he filled her, then stared at each other, panting as he slowly withdrew a little then pressed back into her. Pinned against the wall by his weight, Marguerite moaned and closed her eyes as she was assaulted by both the sensation of his body entering hers and her own closing around him and drawing him in. And then he kissed her again, his tongue thrusting into her as his erection did, the kiss quickly growing frantic along with his actions until the tension broke, taking her mind with it. She knew they were falling, but darkness reached up to claim her before they hit the floor and she never felt the landing.
Marguerite didn't know how long she was out. She wasn't surprised to realize she'd fainted, she'd always heard that true lifemates tended to for their first hundred or so times together. She had even passed that bit of wisdom on to her daughters-in-laws, but this was the first time she'd ever experienced. When she opened her eyes it was to find that she was in Julius's arms and he was carrying her up the stairs.
"I thought it might be best if we weren't found naked and unconscious at the foot of the stairs when the boys come home," he said with a small smile when he noticed that her eyes were open.
Marguerite blushed, but nodded shyly.
Julius chuckled softly at her expression. "How can you be shy after what we just did?"
"I hardly know you," she whispered wryly as he carried her into his bedroom. "We only met each other a few days ago."
His expression became solemn and he released her legs, allowing them to drop to the floor so they both stood facing each other. "We are lifemates, Marguerite. I knew you from the moment we met. And you knew me. Somewhere, in some part of your mind or body, you recognize me as one would recognize a long-lost love."
Marguerite stared at him silently, knowing that was true. She had felt his passion and his pleasure as a lifemate did, not something she'd ever experienced with Jean Claude, but her body had also seemed to know instinctively what to try, what would excite him and had done so confidently. Her hands had caressed where they were sure he liked it best, the excitement that then bled from him into her proving her right. Her lips had sought out the hollow behind his ear with assurance, again proven right when she'd felt the tingles of excitement radiate through her own body. And her body had met and matched his, anticipating his actions and moving in rhythm as if they'd performed that sweet dance before, as if they were one.
She'd never experienced anything like that with Jean Claude. At first, Marguerite had always felt uncertain of what she was doing and how to please her husband... and then, later, after centuries of his control, she hadn't cared to know. There had never been any in-between with them in her recall.
This then was what it was like with a lifemate. No wonder her children were all so happy.
Smiling at the thought, Marguerite let go of the last of her reserve and reached out to wrap her hand around Julius's erection. Her smile widened when she saw the silver leap to life in his eyes, eating away the black, but when he opened his mouth to speak, she silenced him with a kiss, thrusting her own tongue into his mouth.
Julius moaned in response, closing his arms around her to draw her tight against him as his hips pushed forward, urging his erection more firmly into her hand as she caressed the length.
Marguerite smiled against his mouth, then broke the kiss and dropped abruptly to her haunches before him, making Julius blink his eyes open and peer down with a start. She grinned up at him, but when he started to bend, reaching for her, she knew he intended to stop her and quickly took him into her mouth. The action worked as she'd hoped and he froze at once, his hands moving over her shoulders and head, but not trying to stop her anymore. Marguerite ran her tongue around the tip of his shaft, excitement pooling between her legs as his pleasure and excitement began to invade her. It grew with every stroke or flick of her tongue, rolling through her in amplifying waves as the pleasure echoed between them growing with each return.
Marguerite was moaning now too, the vibration simply adding to their pleasure. She could feel the muscles of Julius's legs quivering under the hand she'd placed there to help her keep balance and quivered herself in response, her own legs growing weaker and weaker until they were both trembling. She became unsure which would come first, the final pleasure or collapse, then Julius suddenly tangled the fingers of one hand in her hair and forced her head away even as he caught her arm with his other hand and dragged her to her feet.
Marguerite opened her mouth to protest that she wasn't done, but he didn't wait to hear it. Covering her mouth with his own he kissed her almost violently and forced her backward until the back of her legs bumped against the bed, and then they were both tumbling onto it. Marguerite gasped into his mouth as his weight landed on her, but he quickly shifted to the side, his upper body sideways on the bed and leaning against her. He had one leg thrown over both of hers and used it to urge hers apart and keep them from closing as his hand slid up her thigh.
Marguerite cried out, her hips jerking as he found her slick, heated flesh. She sucked frantically on his tongue and caught at his upper arms, digging in with her nails, scoring him as he caressed her. She was already excited from what he'd been doing to her, but now he was pushing them both further, his fingers dancing over her briefly before sliding inside until they were both panting and desperate. Only then did he slide over her, replacing his hand with his shaft and driving into her with a violence born of need. Marguerite met and matched that need, raising her knees and planting her feet firmly on the mattress to raise her hips into the action until he was buried to the base.
As excited as they were, it didn't take much to drive them both over the edge. The mounting tension had Marguerite in a frenzy and when she felt her teeth began to shift and slide forward, she broke their kiss to keep from biting his tongue, only to turn her head and sink her fangs into his shoulder. Julius growled, and she felt his own teeth pierce her neck, then they both pulled away, screaming as they went over the edge together plummeting into the whirlpool of release that waited below.