Chapter 8

Madagascar

I am buoyed by Edward's break through. I don't know how much he's seen, but it's enough. He will surely be able to explain the basics to Carlisle and the others so that we can hit the ground running the next time we meet.

I go to Baja and hook up with some old acquaintances. I try to show them the joys of fishing, hoping that one day the ocean will become their primary source of food. (Oh, and in case you were thinking of trying it, sea turtles don't like rum.) I only stay in Baja for a few days, because I'm anxious to go to Father Pawel. I don't like being away from him for very long these days.

I drop in on Pawel at his new digs in a monastery for retired priests. The building is a blonde, stone complex with an open courtyard in the center. At the center of the courtyard is a simple, stone fountain. Father Pawel stays in one of the small rooms at the perimeter of the court, and I pretend to sleep in a cot in the guest quarters.

It's impossible for me to visit Father Pawel without coming into contact with the other inhabitants of the monastery. I don't want to freak them all out, so my skin is always fully covered, usually in loose, linen clothing, and I wear a wide-brimmed hat. Father Pawel's mental faculties are gradually slipping, and I'm not sure that he even remembers that I'm a vampire. He remembers me, though, and he still loves me. And I still love him.

True to form, he never questions my lack of aging. While his hair has gone white and frizzy so that it looks like it's going to fly off his head at a loud noise, and his already short body seems to have shrunken and hunched, I have remained fabulous as ever. He still introduces me to his colleagues at the monastery as his 'little friend' even though I now tower above him.

I stay with him for only about a week this time, and then I make my way to Madagascar. I want to keep the momentum rolling on my project, so I'm going to tell the Madagascar coven my plans and try to secure their commitment. I'm going to do it. Edward's offer of help has given me the confidence to go through with it.

I swim up on the beach and see the three Madigascarians building an enormous sand castle. They eye me warily, as they always do these days, but I don't have any inclination to start out sour. I'm too excited. I'm nervous, but I'm excited. They sense my positive mood and wave me over. We greet each other and talk about the weather and such things. I want them to be totally at their ease with me before I broach the subject. Maybe after a nice, big meal.

Plainsong brings us big leaves to poke into our castle's turrets. As we're adding these finishing touches, a small boat appears over the horizon. It seems to be headed straight toward us. It is. It's coming closer. I focus on the boat and see that it's Gregorio. I groan. What the hell is he doing here? He does this every once in a while. Drops in on me. Checks up on me. He's two levels above me and my department falls indirectly under him. Mine is such a small project from B.I.T.E.'s standpoint, though, so I don't understand why he pays my work as much attention as he does. I think he still doesn't trust me.

Normally, I only view Gregorio's pop-ins with a small amount of irritation. Sometimes he's a nice distraction. But today, I am pissed. I won't be able to talk openly about my plans with him around. I'm going to have to hide my frustration, or he's going to know something's up. I'll have to keep to my normal level of rudeness.

The boat stops far enough from shore so that it won't run upon the sand, and Gregorio anchors it. He steps to the edge and leaps to the beach, landing with perfect, cat-like reflexes. He's wearing an impeccably crisp, navy-blue business suit, which absolutely kills me. Only Gregorio would wear a suit to a tropical beach to meet up with a group of beatnik vampires.

He sticks the landing and straightens up. It's slightly overcast, so his skin is smooth and even toned. He wears his black waves oiled back, away from his face with one curl threatening to break away and slip attractively onto his pale forehead. Standing with the backdrop of the ocean and his speedboat, he looks like some kind of ad in GQ. His dark eyes shine with excitement from his race over the water, and his sculpted features are marred only by the tiny, white scar at the tip of his defined, red mouth. As irritated as I am, I can't help but think of how much I'd like to preserve this image of him on a poster to hang in my bedroom.

Pippa, Kevin and Plainsong have met Gregorio a couple of other times when he's popped in on me here, but they don't know him well, certainly not well enough for Pippa to greet him as warmly as she is.

"Gregorio," she sings and runs across the sand to him, taking his hand and walking him over. Now Kevin looks slightly pissed.

"What are you doing here, Gregorio?" I say coldly.

He smiles his GQ smile and says, "I felt the temperature drop across all of Europe and knew that your warming presence had left us. I've come to bring back the sun around which we all revolve," he says and reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a pair of airline tickets.

I roll my eyes at his false flattery.

Pippa giggles and leaves Gregorio by me and goes to stand by Kevin.

"How'd you know where I was?" I ask suspiciously.

Gregorio looks up the beach and gestures toward our giant sand creation. "It was actually the castle that drew me here. The only accommodations fitting for the one, true, Romanian princess."

I laugh. Now I'm really pissed. He shows up and ruins my fun, and now he's making me laugh. Jerk.

"Romania needs her princess back. Unit meetings are beginning a week early. All departments must be present."

"Ugh," I groan. I hold out my hand for my plane ticket, but Gregorio slides it back into his jacket.

"I'll hold onto it. We'll travel together in the morning," he tells me.

Fabulous. One day to try to make progress here. I have to find a way to ditch the Italian.

"Well, I'm just working on some boring plant cataloging. You know, how environment impacts appetite and all that," I tell him. I'm pulling all of this out of my butt, but the way. "So, why don't you do something exciting and go shark hunting with Plainsong."

Gregorio curls his lip and says, "No thanks. I don't care for seafood."

"Why not?" I ask. Then it hits me. "Oooh, that's how you got your scar isn't it? Nasty scrape with a barracuda, was it?" I've still not figured out how he got that scar. I do, however, know at least two hundred and forty ways he didn't get it.

"Not how I got it," he says with a small smirk. "I simply don't like the taste."

"I'm afraid that's all we serve around here, mate," Kevin says, a friendly note of warning in his voice.

"I suppose I'll choke some down later, but for now, I'd like to see how the soft green of the forest plays off of Elisabeta's eyes," Gregorio says smoothly.

I make a retching noise. He's going to stay on me like stink on poop.

"Fine, but your fancy suit may get a wrinkle or two," I say, eyeing his attire.

"I'm prepared," he says and pulls a pair of swim trunks out from the inside of his jacket. What else does he have in there?

"Alright, get changed," I say with resignation.

He shrugs out of his jacket and hands it to me, then starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"Not here!" I yell.

He merely smiles seductively and keeps unbuttoning. He hands me the shirt, then starts on his pants. I turn away, but Pippa watches eagerly until Kevin drags her backwards into the trees.

"Dude, T.M.I.," Plainsong complains and walks away.

"All done," Gregorio says, and I turn around.

I nod in approval of his long board shorts. Now he looks like a page in Sports Illustrated.

"I would've expected you to have one of those little, Italian, Speedo jobbies," I tell him

"Oh, I do," he says. "I can change into that if you prefer."

"No! This is good," I say quickly. He takes back his clothes and folds them into a neat pile.

We deposit his suit by my backpack in Plainsong's hut and head into the dry forest where I pretend to study the foliage. I climb through the trees, examining leaves and appearing to catalog vital information in my photographic brain. In reality, I'm only making cursory observations, such as green or fuzzy. After about an hour of this farce, Gregorio, who's been observing me closely the whole time, breaks the silence.

"Miss Elisabeta," he says just as I'm thinking 'Hmm, pointy.' I note that he's addressing me formally, the way he does in front of others at headquarters. "If you are sincerely studying these plants, then I have just burned all my suits and will be wearing my Italian, Speedo jobbie around headquarters from now on."

"Oh, Viktor's going to love that," I respond with a small chuckle.

Gregorio's standing on the same branch as me, and he steps closer, with his head slanted intimidatingly over mine. "Why are you here?" he demands. "I know you're not cataloging vegetation, and you were just here a month ago, so why are you back again so soon?"

I'm surprised by his directness. This is not how we usually play. I jump to another branch, inciting a wild chittering that echoes through the forest.

"If you must know, it's the monkeys," I tell him. "I'm madly in love with them, and I can't live without them. I simply won't be denied my monkeys."

Gregorio looks at me steadily and asks, "Does one of these monkeys happen to go by the name of Plainsong?"

"Plainsong? Well, yeah, I guess he is a bit of a monkey, isn't he?" I say, delighted at the thought.

Gregorio jumps to my branch. He's not amused.

"Oh, you think me…and Plainsong? Uh, no, that' not happening," I inform him. "But I hardly see why B.I.T.E. would care who I might or might not mate with."

"The organization doesn't want to lose one of our most talented researchers to an aimless git. And on a more personal note," he says, stepping close to me. I step back and now my back is pressed against the trunk of the tree. Gregorio keeps moving in closer as he continues slowly in a low, smooth voice, "It would be a shame to see you mated off before certain obligations have been fulfilled." He touches his fingernail to my cheekbone and drags it lightly down my face while he watches me hungrily. I knew it was only a matter of time before he got around to this.

"Not here, Gregorio," I say impatiently and drop down and flip myself to the next tree. "Look, I just came here for a little rest and relaxation. I'm on schedule with my research, so what's the big deal?"

"Weren't you just on break all last week? You didn't show up on the radar," he says.

"Are you tracking me?" I ask and get an uneasy feeling. "Gregorio, is Viktor worried about my motivation? Is he setting me up for another test? Not that you'd tell me if he was," I add bitterly.

"No. This has nothing to do with Viktor," he says. He looks like he wants to say more, but pauses.

I take the opportunity to ask him something I've been wondering for forty years.

"Do you remember the day we met?" I ask.

"Yes."

"You said you knew what Viktor was going to do to me that day. Is that because he put you through the same kind of test when you came over from the Volturi?" I want to hear that I'm not the only one that Viktor felt the need to test.

"No. I wasn't subjected to a test. Viktor and I knew each other fairly well before I came over. We both saw that the Volturi had begun to value gifted vampires over all others, regardless of how valiantly those others may have served them in the past. My opportunities with that organization were limited. Because of my bloodlines, however, I had other options. Viktor helped me to understand that my various skills would be both appreciated and rewarded Romania. So you see, Viktor had no need to test me, he recruited me. He wanted me."

"Viktor's glad I came back. He wants me," I say defensively.

"Yes, indeed, he wants you. I think if it had been anyone else returning, Viktor would have burst them into flames before they'd even made it into headquarters."

"You would've like that wouldn't you?"

"On that day, yes. It's the course I recommended."

I raise my eyebrows at his brutal honesty. "Why didn't he listen to you?" I ask.

"You are his Little Beta. His pride and joy. His creation. It bonds you together. Makes you special to him."

"Yes, but Viktor created lots of other vampires. He doesn't love any of them the way he loves me," I tell him. When I say 'love' I speak of the way Viktor loves. Viktor loves things, possessions. He loves me in the way that he thinks of me as his possession.

"True. Yes. There's something more. But it's the combination of that something plus knowing that his venom runs through you that makes his attachment to you unbreakable. Believe me; I've tried to break it."

"You seem to know a lot about the bond between creator and creation. How many vampires have you created?" I ask. It's something else I've been wondering for no particular reason.

He sniffs ironically and doesn't answer.

"Lost track?" I ask.

"Quite the opposite, actually. There's none to keep track of."

My jaw drops. "None," I say incredulously. It's not like every vampire out there has created, as a matter of fact, most haven't. But for some reason – I guess because of his stature and his rich background – I had assumed that he'd transformed at least a few people.

"Yes, it's one of the other areas that the Volturi deemed a shortcoming. I refused to hunt down and recruit for their gifted army. It was the one way they'd decided I could contribute, and I refused to do it."

"Why?" I ask, still astounded.

He sighs deeply. "Oh, Elisabeta, it's very complicated," he says, sounding as if the topic exhausts him.

I wait to see if he'll say more, but he doesn't. We're standing in opposite trees, staring at each other. We might actually agree on something. But he doesn't know it. I'm deciding whether I should tell him. He's deciding whether to tell me more. We're both standing perfectly still, wondering how much to trust the other.

We are so still that a lemur drops from out of nowhere onto Gregorio's head. Gregorio snarls in reflexive reaction and snatches the animal off his head. Before he can snap its neck, I jump onto his branch and grab it away.

"No, Gregorio!" I scold him. "This species is endemic to the island. We don't hurt them."

"Sorry…I…it startled me," he says, seeming uncharacteristically flustered.

I cradle the animal protectively, like a baby. It claws at my stone flesh a couple of times and then settles down. It sniffs curiously around my face. When its snout gets near my mouth, I give it a kiss.

"Lucky monkey," Gregorio says enviously, control back in his deep voice.

"It's a lemur," I correct him and release the critter into the branch above me.

"Lucky lemur," Gregorio murmurs, putting a hand on my waist. He makes a move toward me, and I scream playfully and jump to swing from another tree.

"Race to the beach!" I shout and keep going.

Gregorio chases me as we race through the trees to the beach. I get there first, but he swings himself further out into the sand, so we call it a draw.

The others are up the beach. I don't want to be alone with Gregorio anymore, so I run to them.

"Hungry?" I ask. "Maybe we can catch something big with five of us. Break our record and change Gregorio's mind about the taste of seafood."

They all agree, and we splash into the water. We don't find anything big, but Kevin spots a group of rays. After riding them around like flying carpets for a while, we suck them dry and then hunt individually until we're full. Pippa and Kevin disappear first. Plainsong soon follows them. I've had enough, but Gregorio is still hunting. When you live on a diet of human blood, it takes a bit more animal blood to satisfy. I pretend to search behind a reef but make for the beach instead. This is my big chance to talk to the others without Gregorio around.

I get to the beach. I don't see Pippa and Kevin, but Plainsong is at the edge of the trees, breaking branches. I listen intently for a minute, and I hear Pippa and Kevin giggling together in their hut. I'm not sure how amenable they'll be to my plan if I burst in on them right now. I look over at Plainsong. I think it's funny that Gregorio thought I had something going with him. He's awfully adorable in all his athletic lankiness with his shaggy, dark blonde hair, honey-colored eyes and dark, pooka shell necklace always at his throat, but he's a bit too mellow for me, a bit too simple. I prefer guys with an edge – and a brain.

Talking to Plainsong alone is not going to do much good. It would take too long to make him understand the intricacies of the plan, and I'm not sure he'll be able to relay the information clearly to Pippa and Kevin later. Time to accept that my trip here is a total bust. Damnit.

I walk to the edge of the water and plop down on the beach. I lean back on my arms with my hands propped in the sand. My legs are kicked out in front of me, crossed at the ankles. The ocean is nearly licking my toes. The sky has started to clear, and a few rays of sunlight send up random flares of light on my skin. Maybe a little time out from everything isn't so bad. I sit and relax.

Plainsong is starting to pile up wood down the beach for our bonfire tonight. Still no sign of Pippa and Kevin. I hear a slap of water and look out to see Gregorio swimming back to shore. He arrives at land and starts walking toward me. He's all sparkly with his wetness. He wears a lusty expression as he watches me reclining in my bikini. Since he's ruined any chance I'd had of actually accomplishing anything today, I've set my mind on total relaxation. I'm not in the mood for whatever he has in mind. Our flirtatious battles seem like too much work right now. I'm not going to let him drag me out of my relaxed stupor.

He walks up to me, and before he can say one pretty word, I cut him off at the pass. "One kiss, Gregorio," I say.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise and squeezes water out of his dripping locks as he continues toward me.

I tell him, "One kiss. Right here. Right now. But the deal is, you don't get to ask me for another thing while we're here. Take it or leave it."

He stands over me and looks down. "One kiss…" he contemplates out loud while his eyes trail down my length.

"On the mouth!" I stipulate sharply, drawing his gaze back up to my face.

"Hmm," he says, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow as he considers my offer. He's mocking me by treating this trivial matter as if it's serious business. "Will you open your mouth?" he asks.

"We'll see," I shrug noncommittally.

"Yes, we'll see," he says. "I accept."

He kneels down in the sand next to me, and we regard each other silently. Before I can laugh at how ridiculous we are, he slides his hand to the back to my head and yanks my hair back, tilting my head upward.

I gasp, and my lips part. Gregorio doesn't waste a second.

He touches his lips to mine, holding them open. His tongue rolls lightly along the inside edge of my mouth. I meet him, and the tips of our tongues dance delicately together. We both have our eyes open, but we're not looking at each other. With his hand, he turns my head slightly and tilts his in the opposite direction so that his mouth completely covers mine. My eyes close inadvertently, and our tongues swim in each other's mouths.

Our heads turn again, and I'm horrified to note that mine has moved of its own volition, and I am eagerly pressing up to Gregorio so tightly that I can feel the bump of his scar as his mouth moves on mine. I can't help it; Gregorio is delicious. I taste a trace of his latest kill, but it is his naturally bold, exotic flavor that is drawing me in. Gregorio is not gentle in his kiss, but he's not as insistent as I had expected, either, which makes me want more.

Our heads turn again, and he doesn't seem to mind my enthusiasm. His hand continues to hold my face firmly to his and his other hand has moved to the small of my back and is pulling me to him, crushing our torsos against each other. My arms are rigid poles jutting out behind me. I dig my fingers into the sand to keep my hands where they are instead of where they want to be. They want to be combing through the thick waves of Gregorio's dark hair and running over the muscles of his back. I know if I do that, this going to move beyond a kiss - way beyond - and that isn't part of the deal.

Our heads turn once more, and Gregorio slows down. He slackens his grip and slides his tongue from my mouth. He ends the kiss by pressing his firm, closed lips onto mine. When he pulls back, he's wearing a smug, satisfied grin. I am furious, because I know my expression is nothing like smug. If I look anything like I feel, I have the wide-eyed, helpless expression of a baby bird wanting more worm. I want more worm. God help me; I want more worm.

Gregorio leans forward and touches his lips to my forehead. "Well worth the wait," he murmurs, then gets up and strolls confidently across the sand to help Plainsong with the fire.

I'm nowhere close to being able to get up right now. I tear my eyes from his elegant gait and stare out at the water. Where is that warm vibration that's coursing through me coming from? If this is what Gregorio can do to me with one kiss, what would it be like to…

I can't even let myself think about it. I train my eyes on the waves and switch my mind to less dangerous subjects, like…verb conjugation. Whoa, way too many provocative verbs in pretty much every language I know. How about quantum physics? That seems safe enough. Physics, the science of interactions between matter and energy…uh, probably best to stay away from that one, too…baseball. American baseball. Is there anything on this earth more dull than American baseball? No, I don't believe there is.

When I trust my legs to support me, I get up to join the others at the fire, which is now blazing. Gregorio and Plainsong are tossing logs in and poking here and there to keep the flames going.

"Hey there, girlie," Plainsong says to me. "Alright?"

"Alright," I answer.

Gregorio gives me a friendly, platonic smile, and I can see that he's going to honor our bargain. It's weird to see the ambitious company man working side by side with the free spirit. I'm surprised he hasn't thrown his suit back on. He looks surprisingly natural in his long swim trunks and tie dye t-shirt that Plainsong must have lent him. His black waves have dried into soft curls and he hasn't bothered to oil them back. They hang loosely around his handsome face. He looks a hundred years younger. I think Madagascar has been good for him. Just like it has always been good for me. The aura here is truly magical. It's like Disney World for vampires.

Pippa and Kevin join us, bringing a pile of weeds, which they toss onto the fire. Gregorio's never stayed long enough for a bonfire before.

The smoke poufs up and envelops us. We all sit lazily in the sand, except for Plainsong, who is telling us crazy stories and dancing too close to the fire. The fringes of his frayed, cut-off shorts catch on fire and he goes shrieking and diving into the sand to douse the flames. Gregorio laughs so hard, he falls back in the sand. He stays lying down and stares up at the stars. I am sitting near him with my knees pulled up. My arms are crossed and resting on my knees, and my head is resting on my arms. I'm watching Gregorio. He starts talking nonsense about constellations and astrology. I smile. I've never seen him be silly before.

He notices me watching him and says, "What?"

"Nothing," I answer. "I just like seeing you like this."

His lips spread into a goofy grin, and he says, "I like seeing you liking to see me."

I start to giggle, and I can't stop. I fall in the sand and roll to Gregorio. We are giggling together. When our jag of giggles stop, I find that my head is lying on his chest and my arm is stretched across his stomach. I recollect myself and make a move to get up, but his hand flashes to my arm and holds me there. I relax and decide to stay. He can't try anything because of the deal, and his chest makes a nice perch from which to watch the flames dance. Yellow, white, orange, red, blue all mingling together, all rising and flashing and disappearing and rising again. I watch the flames and let my mind wander. I think fantastical things.

I wonder if this is what it's like to dream.