Strictly Taboo(90)

“You need to get some rest.” She said. “You've had far too much to drink far too quickly. You need to sleep it off before you say something you will regret.” She reached over and took his coffee cup off his tray and set it on her own before folding his up for him. “There, now lay back and close your eyes.” She said softly. Francis leaned back against the plush headrest of his seat. He didn't feel like sleeping, besides, if he did dare close his eyes he was afraid of what he might see. So as he leaned back he kept his eyes trained on Rosa.

“Rosa?” He asked. Rosa grinned.

“Yes, my drunk friend?”

“Do you suppose when I am back in Bran and you are studying in Bucharest, that you will come to visit me?” Rosa shrugged.

“Sure. It will be exciting to see the historic sites.” She consciously refrained from mentioning Vlad the Impaler once more but they both knew what she was getting at.

“Like Vlad’s castle?” Francis asked.

“Well…I would like to see it…besides, who doesn't love visiting castles? They're always such spooky places when you know the true history behind them. It's almost as if you can hear the walls speaking to you.” Francis pressed his lips together firmly and then blurted out.

“I live in a castle and it's actually quite cozy.” Rosa slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Yeah, sure you do.” She said. “Now, go to sleep.”

“I’m serious.” Francis said, but he knew that she wouldn't believe him. Even if he hadn't been a little worse for wear due to the alcohol, who would believe a complete stranger who said that they lived in a castle? Who lived in a castle anyway?

“Okay, how many rooms does it have then?” Rosa asked as she watched the economy class passenger’s file on to the plane.

“Umm…I'm not really sure.” Francis said. There was a silence as he mentally tried to tally them up. After a few minutes he shook his head. “I can't think of them all.” He said disappointedly. Rosa reached over and patted his thigh.

“Well, if you still live there when I come to visit you, then I will help you count. Deal?” She looked up at him with those big blue eyes. Francis nodded.

“Deal.” He said.

As the final passengers filed on to the plane and the door closed, the young slender air hostess that Francis recognized from his first flight began her spiel at the front of the plane. As she spoke, Francis turned to look at the dreary weather out on the tarmac. New York had been nothing like he had imagined it would be. He had found himself overwhelmed by the unfamiliar. The scents, the sounds, the people…it had all been so very foreign to him and yet the irony, he thought, was that they were the ones who would be overwhelmed by him, if only they knew of his secret. As he contemplated his secret, his thoughts turned to Anne. He couldn't help but wonder if anyone had found her yet, her bloodless body sprawled out on his hotel bed. He should have known better. He should have found out who she was before he let things get so far. He should have listened to that voice inside himself. But he hadn't, and now she was dead. He tried to turn his thoughts away from her. To think about going home to the comfort and familiarity of all that it brought with it.

The massive airplane hurtled down the runway before lifting almost effortlessly in to the air. Francis closed his eyes and as he did he felt Rosa reach across and squeeze his hand gently.

“It's not all that bad.” She said, keeping her head leaned flat against the headrest of her chair. “It's sort of like a ride at an amusement park.” Francis didn't have the heart to tell her that he had never been to one before. Or, in fact, that he found very little to be amused about in his unusual existence at all. He had a feeling that she might understand, but he also knew that once he started opening up to her, that he wouldn't be able to stop. Then, before he knew it every last one of his secrets would have tumbled out and he would find himself next to another lifeless body. He wouldn't do that to Rosa. He couldn't do that to Rosa. He might have killed before, but then it was only out of necessity. Every single life he had taken had been necessary to his survival.

Francis glanced across at Rosa. Her eyelids fluttered in her sleep and her lips periodically parted as if she were going to speak. No matter how much he tried to convince himself to let her go, not to give her his contact information, to slip quietly in to the realms from whence he came, he couldn't. There was something in her. Something that told him he needed her, something driven by his need for an heir to his bloodline. Rosa was his one, the one he couldn't let go even if he wanted to. She was to become the mother to his son.