Vampires Are Foreve(29)

“That was thoughtful,” she said quietly, her expression solemn.

Thomas waved the compliment away and said lightly, “I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed and he was made uncomfortable by how seriously she said so. He was made even more uncomfortable when she asked, “How old are you?”

Thomas grimaced. Because of the way Bastien and Lucern always treated him, he usually felt like the baby in the family even though his sister Jeanne Louise was younger. Now, however, knowing that Inez couldn’t be more than thirty, he was embarrassed by how old he was. Finally, he simply said, “I’m old.”

“How old?” Inez persisted and then grinned and explained, “I only ask because they say men become more considerate as they get older and you’re very considerate.”

“No more than most men,” he argued, and she snorted with derision at the words.

“Thomas, you are definitely much more considerate than every other man I’ve met in my life.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she began counting facts off on her fingers. “First you drew me that bath and ordered me tea and breakfast when you found out I had rushed out to collect you without, and now you’ve seen to it that I am not without clothes while here in Amsterdam. You always take my arm to walk me about, open doors for me, and—aside from the jog through Schiphol airport—generally measure your stride to mine,” she pointed out and then arched one eyebrow and said, “If consideration in men is commensurate with age, that must mean you’re at least a thousand years old.”

Thomas smiled at her teasing. “I was raised by my Aunt Marguerite. Her daughter, Lissianna, and I are only four years apart. They taught me consideration.”

“How old?” she insisted.

He frowned, briefly searching for a way to change the subject without answering, and then realized that if she was going to be his lifemate, he’d have to fess up to his age at some point and reluctantly admitted, “I was born in 1794.”

Inez blinked at this news, stared at him for a moment, and then blinked again before finally asking with disbelief, “Seventeen? Seventeen hundred and ninety-four? You’re over two hundred years old?”

“Old, huh?” he asked apologetically.

Inez was silent for a moment and then sat back in her seat and tried for a nonchalant shrug and simply said, “Well, two hundred is better than six hundred.”

“That would be my cousin, Lucern,” Thomas said, glancing out the window again as the lights outside began to grow in number.

“Your cousin is six hundred?” Inez asked with disbelief.

Thomas smiled at her horror and nodded, then collected his bag and stood up. “Come on, we’re here.”

He led her off the train and to the ticket and info office to buy them both passes for Amsterdam’s public transport.

Once they were on the bus headed for the Amstel Hotel, Thomas pulled out his cell phone to call Herb. He planned to check in to the hotel, down two or three bags of blood, and then head right out to try to find Aunt Marguerite. To do so, he’d need the coordinates for where she was. He hoped if he called Herb now, by the time they’d checked in and he’d fed, Herb would have Marguerite’s present coordinates for him.

Thomas watched Inez as he waited for his call to be answered. She was busy taking in everything, her eyes flying over the older buildings and the walking people, and he wished he could read her mind to see what she was thinking. Amsterdam was one of his favorite cities in the world, and he was curious to see if she would like it.

He let his curiosity go and turned his attention to his phone as his call was answered. Inez seemed enraptured by the passing scenery, so he was taken by surprise when he finished his call and hung up and she suddenly turned back to him and asked, “Who is Herb?”

“He’s a friend,” he answered as he slid his phone back into his pocket. “He’s the one who tracked Aunt Marguerite’s cell phone here to Amsterdam.”

“And he’s tracking it again now?” Inez asked.

“Yes. I want to head out and look for her as soon as we’re checked in. It takes a few minutes to track the cell, so I thought if I had him start on it now, he’d have the new coordinates when I’m ready.”

Inez accepted that with a nod and then asked, “Why couldn’t you read my mind or erase my memory?”

Wholly unprepared for the question, Thomas found his tongue suddenly glued to the roof of his mouth.

“You said that the nanos allowed you to read the minds of others, control them, and even wipe away the memory of what had occurred, but at the hotel you said you couldn’t erase my memories,” she pointed out. “Why?”