Personal Disclaimer: Please excuse the occasional silliness of this chapter. I can only justify it by saying I watched too many "Three's Company" and "I Love Lucy" episodes as a child.
I heard Mick's soft knock at a little after midnight. When I opened the door, he immediately took me into his arms, kissing me with wild abandon. I kissed him back wholeheartedly—until I smelled the perfume. He reeked of it. Expensive stuff I recognized only from smelling it at the perfume counter. I pulled back immediately, my mind trying to absorb this bit of information. Do I confront him? Will I sound too possessive?
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"No. Come in." He followed me to the small living area. I hoped he would interpret my pounding heart as lust for him—which, of course, it partly was—but now it was mainly because he was keeping things from me. I guessed it would only be fair if I gave him the chance to come clean on his own.
"Would you like something to drink?" I asked him.
"No, thanks."
He seemed to be bursting at the seams about something, excited and happy. But he wasn't sharing any of that with me.
"How's the case going?" I asked him, trying my best to sound normal. I wondered how I could endure the small talk.
"It's going great. Josef and I have it all worked out."
"Really. That's great."
"Are you still coming to the bar with me tomorrow night? I'll have to meet you there, I'm afraid. Around nine?"
"Sure." I waited a few minutes more. He seemed fidgety, on edge. He stood up and began pacing the room a little. I couldn't stand it.
"Is something bothering you, Mick? You're gonna wear a hole in my carpet."
"Oh, sorry." He sat down again. "I'm just excited to hear some good jazz tomorrow. It will be so nice to uh, hear it after all these years."
"You listen to jazz all the time," I said.
"Yes, but there's nothing like a live band."
"True," I agreed. "I can't wait to finally see inside Daryl's bar. And to see him and Carrie, of course."
"Yeah, they're great people." His foot was literally tapping. I don't think I'd ever seen him this nervous before. Well, maybe when I'd caught him feeding on Simone. I gritted my teeth at that memory.
"Look, Mick. I'm sorry, but could you take a rain check for tonight? I'm really tired, and I have to get up early tomorrow." I didn't have to fake my yawn. I didn't know whether I should have been annoyed or relieved by how quickly he accepted my dismissal.
"That's okay, Beth. I understand. And I'm sorry I've kept you up so late lately. After tomorrow—well, things should be calming down some." He was standing up again, this time to set off for the door. I followed him there, and let him lean down to kiss me sweetly. For a minute, I felt desperation seep into my kiss, and I pulled him more tightly to myself. I couldn't bear the thought that I might be losing him.
"I'll see you tomorrow night," he finally whispered against my lips. He gave me a rare smile, and went out the door. I watched him walk down the hall and disappear into the stairwell. He had left me with nothing but questions, and the lingering smell of designer perfume.
If you asked me what I accomplished Friday at work, I wouldn't be able to tell you, although the "in" file was considerably thinner than it had been that morning. I kept kicking myself. I should have confronted him. About the perfume. About the hotel key. The late nights. All of it. But I hadn't. Why? Well, fear, obviously. While I knew there could be some logical, innocent explanation for all of it, there could also be a painful, life-altering explanation too. Hence, my silence.
So, at five o'clock, I took a deep breath, shut down my computer, and waved goodbye to Ben Talbot on my way out. Still four hours until I would see Mick at the bar. I would go home, make myself a good dinner—pasta, maybe. I'd have a glass of wine and take a long bath. I'd dress in my hottest cocktail dress, my highest heals, and meet him as planned. At this point, that's all I could do, right? I had no earthly idea what the evening would bring, but I had a sick feeling that I should savor every moment I might have left with Mick.
The moment I shut my car door, Simone called.
"Hey," she greeted me. "I hear you're going to be at Daryl Morgan's club with Mick for jazz night."
"Yeah, that's the plan," I told her.
"Josef invited me too. I'm set to meet him there. You want to make this a double-date?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"Great! First, though, we have a seven o'clock date at a certain hotel. Room 1027?"
"Oh, Simone. What's the point? I'm not sure I really want to know."
"Well, I do. If Josef is somehow enabling Mick's uh, indiscretions, I want to know about it. And if Josef is directly involved in said indiscretions, I want to know so I can kick his ass. You game?"
I sat in my car, hesitating. I guess it would be better to know. I would not tolerate him being unfaithful, or drinking from a freshie, which to me was about the same thing. These things would be a deal-breaker. And, as painful as it would be, I guess allowing him to play me for a fool would compound the heartbreak. And if this was all an innocent misunderstanding, well, I knew how to grovel.
"Okay. I'll meet you in the parking lot of the hotel at seven-fifteen. We shouldn't show up right when they do."
"Agreed. See you there."
So, I followed my original self-pampering plan, but I just wasn't as leisurely about it. When I arrived at the hotel, I was feeling strong and resolved. I told myself I wasn't going to fall apart until I knew for sure what was going on. Simone and I met and went inside, looking around constantly lest we be spotted by one of the guys. We got off the elevator on the tenth floor, and found room 1027.
"Should we knock?" I whispered.
"Not yet. Let's listen a minute."
With one last look to make sure no one was coming down the hall, we pressed our ears softly against the door, facing each other. I felt like the worst kind of eavesdropper. Until I heard what I did.
"My crotch feels really tight." It was a man's voice. Guillermo? I mouthed. Simone nodded.
"Let me help you with that," came the sexy feminine reply.
"Does my ass look too big?" Logan's voice?
"No, baby, it's just right," a different woman replied.
"I just want to take it off right now!" That was Mick. No doubt about it. I gave Simone an outraged look.
"Sweetheart, this feels so good against my skin. You really know what you're doing." Josef.
I had to clamp my hand over Simone's mouth. We listened a minute more, but nothing else was discernable, except the soft sounds of a woman's humming and a suggestion of men grunting in approval. I pulled Simone away from the door and we walked a ways down the hall.
"I'm going to kill him," Simone hissed angrily. "Let's go knock the damn door down!"
"No," I said. "Let me think." Before, I had been resigned to giving up Mick without a fight, because somehow I had always felt that maybe it wasn't meant to be, that our relationship would someday die a natural death (or as natural as anything where vampires were concerned). Granted, I had thought this might come when I was much older, but I was still young, and fighting mad.
"We're going to serve our revenge cold," I said. "We'll wait for them at the bar, but we won't be waiting alone." Simone smiled—a very evil, Grinch-like smile.
"Beth, you're brilliant." Well, that remained to be seen.
The Stake and Fang was a downtown pub owned and operated by Daryl and Carrie Morgan. They were a married couple who just happened to be vampires, and good friends of Mick's. I'd gotten to know them when they'd helped me get Mick, Josef and the guys out of a jam, and their help had proved invaluable. So it was with great curiosity that I entered their bar. I guess I had some preconceived notions of what a vampire bar would look like—black and red, with Goth looking characters mingling and showing their fangs. Not the case at all. I looked around and had no idea who—if anyone—was a vampire. If there were any, they weren't being obvious about it.
The place looked in fact like an Irish pub, with a mahogany bar, and booths lining the walls. For jazz night, there were several candlelit, round tables clustered near a small stage, where a drum set and a piano waited for their players. Until the show started, a juke box softly played classic rock. It was old-fashioned, but very charming.
Simone and I walked in together, disheartened, but determined to exact our revenge on our wayward vampires. Daryl, tending the bar, noticed our arrival immediately. He called us over.
"Ladies—so nice of you to join us. Can I get you a drink?" His smile was breathtaking in his handsome face. He could almost be called beautiful, if it weren't for the thick muscles in his neck and the bulging biceps and pecks clearly outlined beneath his red t-shirt that brought an edge to his perfection. If he hadn't been married, I would have been happy to use him for my revenge. We sat on the high barstools.
"Sure," I said. "Tequila, please." Simone looked at me in surprise, but ordered the same.
"Have you seen Josef and Mick?" Simone asked.
He hesitated, which to me immediately set off alarms in my head. "Uh, I'm sure they'll be here any time." That didn't really answer my question, but I let it go. He looked a little taken aback as I downed my shot and asked for another.
"Go easy on that stuff," he warned good-naturedly, "it kinda sneaks up on you."
"But we're celebrating," I said. "I love a good jazz band!" My sarcasm wasn't lost on him, and he was saved by the lovely distraction which was his wife, Carrie. She too was dressed in a red t-shirt, which I noticed had the Stake and Fang logo on the pocket, and black slacks. Her long, curly, black hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore black ballet flats on her feet.
Hi Beth. Simone. Good to see you again. Carrie was a telepath, in addition to being a vampire. She couldn't read minds, but she was mute, so her main way to communicate was to put her thoughts in your head. It was a little disconcerting at first, but you got used to it. My past experience had shown that she could only "talk" to one mind at a time, but tonight I realized she could pick and choose who she did that with, because Simone and I both seemed to have heard her thoughts at the same time.
"Glad to be here. You two have a nice place."
Thanks. So, you girls like jazz?
"Yeah, but Mick and Josef seem to like it much more," said Simone almost bitterly. I elbowed her lightly in the ribs.
Well, enjoy. I need to see to the sound system.
A couple of nice-looking guys sat down next to us. I looked at Simone, who nodded in agreement. They would do. While Daryl was getting their drinks, I tried to strike up a conversation. Simone got up and took her drink to the stool by the other guy. Two more rounds later, and we were laughing like we'd known each other forever. They told us their names, but I'd forgotten them almost immediately.
We'd gotten there a little early to put our plan into motion, but now more and more people were trickling in and taking their places at the bar or near the stage.
"Hey, let's get a table before they're all taken. I think the show's about to start." Daryl's keen vampire hearing caught my words, and he led us to a table up front, removing the "reserved" sign for us. He seemed a little put off when we brought our new friends with us. Mick and Josef were nowhere to be found. I wondered if they had been so busy in the hotel room that they'd forgotten about our date.
"I think we've been stood up," murmured Simone so the men wouldn't hear.
"Yeah. It looks that way." My disappointment was sharp, but I would do my best to try to have fun, just to spite them.
Daryl stepped up onto the stage and turned on the microphone. "Thank you all for joining us for live jazz night here at the Stake and Fang. We have a great show on tap, with a very special amateur band to start us off. So, please give it up for… The Blood Brothers Quartet!"