Vampires Are Foreve(15)

“Yes, but, this is hardly an emergency situation yet,” Thomas pointed out. “The council would have my head if I—”

“You’re in England, Thomas,” Bastien reminded him. “The European council has different rules than us. A lot of the older immortals reside there. They like their traditions and dislike change. Many of them refused to even consider banning feeding off the hoof. It’s still allowed there within reason.”

“Yes, but our council—”

“Can’t penalize you for behavior that’s completely acceptable where you are,” Bastien said firmly. “And you’re going to have to feed.”

Thomas frowned with displeasure at his words. “Can’t you get blood to me in Amsterdam?”

“Yes. But that’s hours away. Thomas, I don’t like the idea of your being on a plane full of people when you’re hungry.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You only had one bag of blood on the plane.”

Thomas grimaced. “Checking up on me?”

“Never mind that,” Bastien said, sounding uncomfortable. “The point is, you only had one bag and if Inez isn’t there—”

“I wouldn’t have bitten Inez anyway,” Thomas assured him.

“Why not?” Bastien asked and Thomas frowned at the interest in his voice.

“Because she seems nice,” he answered vaguely.

“Nice? She berated the hell out of you when she got to the hotel,” Bastien said with amusement.

“Yes, but she looked cute while doing it,” Thomas muttered, and then added, “Besides I somehow don’t think that’s under her list of duties in her job description.”

“No, it isn’t,” Bastien agreed on a sigh. “And I normally wouldn’t even consider it, but Mother is missing and the longer the delay…Besides, it wouldn’t harm Inez. And it is kind of an emergency.” When Thomas didn’t say anything, Bastien sighed in defeat and said, “You’ll have to rebook a later flight.”

“No,” he protested at once. “I’ll be all right, Bastien. I can hold out until I get to Amsterdam.”

“What if you have someone afraid of flying seated beside you?” he asked. “They’ll be nervous and sweating, their smell taunting you. And what if the stewardess cuts a finger or something? Hell, what if someone in the airport itself has a bloody nose while you’re waiting to board your flight? No. It’s too risky, Thomas.”

“Bastien,” Thomas began grimly, but paused as a light popped on in the bedroom. Frowning, he took the two steps necessary to bring him to the door of the room and peered in. His eyes widened as he saw Inez seated at a small table in the dying light of the day. Obviously, she’d worked by sunlight until now, but that was dimming as the sun slid lower in the sky and she’d turned on the lamp on the table to better see what she was writing as she spoke rapidly on the hotel phone.

“What?” Bastien asked.

Inez glanced toward the door and spotted him, offering a smile as she spoke. Thomas forced a smile in return, and then spun out of the doorway and took several steps away. “She’s here.”

“Mother?” Bastien asked with sudden excitement.

“No, Inez,” Thomas explained.

“Oh…Well…Good. Feed off her. Just enough to make it through the flight without being tempted to feed off a seat mate,” he added quickly before Thomas could protest again. “And then wipe her memory and head for the airport.”

When Thomas was silent, he sighed and said, “I know you don’t want to do it, Thomas. But you know better than to surround yourself with mortals when you hunger.”

“Right.” Thomas sighed, giving in. “Okay.”

He didn’t wait to see if Bastien had more to say, but snapped the phone closed and then simply stood there, considering what he had to do. Thomas actually found himself grimacing at the idea of biting Inez. He was a vampire. He used to feed off the hoof all the time before blood banks had come into existence, but that had been a good fifty years ago. All of his meals since then had been bagged and he found himself nervous at the idea of having to bite someone now. Not the actual doing of it, but enjoying it.

Thomas very much feared he would enjoy it. Bagged blood was cold and pretty much tasteless compared to the real thing. It had none of the scent of the owner, none of the individuality, and none of the pleasure of warm, pulsing blood pouring into your mouth and body. It was rather like the difference between the much-loathed airplane food compared to a home-cooked meal.