“Yes, well, you should try being his cousin,” Thomas muttered. Inez must have heard him. She was suddenly terribly quiet. Bastien wasn’t, however, Thomas could hear him squawking away over the phone, his voice not dissimilar to the squeaky voice of a mouse in a cartoon at that distance. Sighing, he placed the phone back to his ear.
“What did she say in Portuguese?” he asked, cutting off Bastien.
“She said you’re a soulless vampire, a blood-sucking fiend, and she has a cross and knows how to use it,” Bastien translated dryly. “Look, I’m going to hand you over to Etienne and use my cell to call the office there in London and have someone sent over to wipe her memory.”
“No! Don’t do that!” Thomas said sharply. He didn’t know why, but the idea of another immortal messing with Inez’s brain made him cringe. Taking a breath, he said, “Look, just give me a minute. I can fix this. There’s no need to wipe her memory.”
He didn’t give Bastien the chance to argue the point, but lowered the phone and stepped closer to the door. “Look, Inez, I’m sorry I bit you. I really am, and I really didn’t want to. Like I said, Bastien insisted on it. I shouldn’t have given in, but…It didn’t hurt, did it?”
Inez scowled, her suspicious gaze fixed on the bathroom door. In truth, the bite hadn’t hurt. It had even been pleasurable…at least until she’d seen his fangs and realized what he’d done. That thought made her frown. He’d had a reflection. Vampires weren’t supposed to have one. Maybe he was just a freak and the fangs were glued on. That made more sense than that he might be a vampire. A freak was better than a vampire, wasn’t it? She pondered the matter, but really wasn’t sure which would be worse.#p#分页标题#e#
“What are you?” she asked suddenly. “Some sort of gothfreak vampire wannabe?”
“No, I—” His voice died briefly and then she heard him muttering, “No, Bastien. I don’t want you to have her memory wiped. Just give me a minute here.”
Inez frowned in the silence that followed, wondering what he meant by having her memory wiped. While she wasn’t sure what it was, it didn’t sound like something she wanted either.
“No,” Thomas repeated on the other side of the door. “She’s my damned lifemate, Bastien, and you aren’t having her wiped.”
Inez’s eyebrows rose. She was his damned lifemate? What did that mean? Was she literally damned now that he’d bit her? Frowning, she turned to peer in the mirror at the marks on her neck. Was she a vampire now too? She didn’t feel soulless and dead. And she did still have a reflection. What—
“Another five minutes isn’t going to make much difference,” Thomas snapped on the other side of the door. “You’re the one who said she was the best damned employee you’ve ever had. She’s smart and sensible. I can make her see sense. Instead of calling Wyatt and ordering him to come here and wipe her, call the damned airport and book a seat for her on the plane to Amsterdam.”
Inez frowned at the mention of Wyatt. He was the president of UK development for Argent, the British division of Argeneau Enterprises. He was her boss. She had always liked the man, but now recalled that he too had an allergy to sunlight. In fact, most of the upper echelon of executives did, she realized.
Dear God, she worked in a nest of vampires! How could she have worked with them all so long and not realized?
She was realizing now, of course, and noticing other oddities; like the fact that few of the upper echelon of the company ate food or drank alcohol or even tea or coffee. They were all friendly, and nice, intelligent people, but didn’t do the usual social things like going out for drinks together after landing a big contract, or attending the Christmas parties and other celebrations the underlings at the company held. In fact, only the day workers attended such functions, she realized with dismay.
“Yes, we can still make the flight to Amsterdam,” Thomas insisted on the other side of the door. “Just let me talk to the woman without you interrupting me.”
Inez couldn’t hear Bastien’s response, but supposed he must have agreed when Thomas cleared his throat and said close to the door, “Look, Inez, I got a hold of someone who was able to track Aunt Marguerite’s cell phone. It turns out she isn’t here at all. She’s in Amsterdam, so I have to fly over there. In fact, I’m booked on a flight for six-fifty and I have to leave soon to catch it.”
“Okay. You go ahead,” she suggested and heard him sigh on the other side of the door.