1
“Come now, Gerald,” Nicholas laughs, “surely you are not going to be petty over a bed.”
I stand, arm in arm with Margarita, as we walk down the stairs to the foyer where Gerald and Nicholas are in discussion. They had arrived just after we finished dinner, our final dinner together, and their visit is a welcome distraction to the pain and confusion we are both feeling.
I am over the moon to see my friend again, and my happiness has leached into Nicholas too, both of us now in much better moods, both also steadfastly ignoring the elephant in the room – I will leave tomorrow.
Drinks over, the butler had shown the guests to their room, but according to Margarita, Gerald was not happy.
“Not at all, old fellow,” we hear Gerald say now, “I’m simply saying that as your most regular guest, I have a level of expectancy as to my standing in your affections – ipso facto, I usually stay in the State Bedroom.”
“Jeeze, Jerry,” Margarita laughs as we step back into the room, “any of the rooms in this place are going to be pretty swanky.”
I see a little muscle in Gerald’s jaw tense, but he simply turns to her and smiles, squeezing her hand as she comes to stand beside him.
“You are right, of course, my love. Where would you like us, Nick?”
“There are sixty bedrooms,” Nicholas says dryly, “take your pick.”
“So, you and Josephine are not yet sharing a bed?” Gerald frowns, raising one eyebrow.
“That’s none of your business,” I snap, receiving a hard look.
In that instant, I realise I don’t like Gerald, or Jerry, or whatever the hell he wants to call himself, not one little bit.
“Quite right,” he murmurs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “The servants can take my bags to any room you choose, Margarita,” he turns to her, “so be a good girl and get that organised.”
I hold my breath as I listen to his instructions. The Margarita I knew would have had a sassy comment, but this Margarita simpers and does as she is told.
Frowning, I watch her make her way back up the stairs, and I turn to follow.
“Wait, Josephine,” Nicholas smiles, walking to me and taking my hand, “I want you to be privy to my discussions with Gerald, you can fill in the gaps for us about the hunter and his weapon.”
As he says this, I stiffen. I have a feeling, I can’t place it, just a very, very strange feeling, that this is not something I want to talk about with this Gerald prick. Picking up on my emotion straight away, Nicholas frowns and cocks his head to the side, before releasing my hand.
“Actually, maybe tomorrow night,” he smiles at me, “a drink and a catch up with an old friend is probably what we both need now. Do you think you might stay one more night?”
I stand still, silent, thinking. I’m only prolonging the pain, being so close to him, wanting him so badly. And I know he is aware of exactly how I feel – but leaving him too, will be painful.
“Yes,” I sigh, seeing the instant relief evident in his eyes as I turn and mount the stairs in search of Margarita.
I feel Gerald’s eyes on me the whole time, step by step.
“Margarita,” I say, almost casually as I stir the meal, “does Gerald make you, you know, can he make you cum just by commanding it.”
We are standing in the kitchen cooking dinner, Saut? de poulet à la marini?r - a saut? of chicken with clams and samphire. It is the second night of their stay, and today while our vampires slept, we have reacquainted ourselves with one another.
I’m relieved that she hasn’t changed as much as I feared. We have fallen into an easy pattern of gossiping, as we once did, about everything, including our boyfriends.
“Ay caramba, yes,” she laughs, coming to stare down into the pot and bumping her shoulder against mine, “he does a lot more than that, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he can tell anyone to do anything, and they will do it. He could tell me to jump off a cliff and I would – although he would never do that because he loves me,” she adds quickly.
“What?” I frown, “you mean he can control people with his voice?”
“Absolutely. Can’t Nicholas?”
