"Speaking of food, when is the last time you really fed?»
There was no hiding his start of surprise at the question. Bastien knew Vincent wasn't referring to hunting, but simply to ingesting blood. And much to his amazement, Bastien suddenly realized that he hadn't done so since early that morning. He'd started to feel the need for blood while waiting at the airport for Terri's plane to arrive, but he hadn't thought of it since she hugged him. He'd been too distracted by everything else that was going on. Bastien refused to even think that his distraction was solely due to Terri's arrival. A lot had happened since then: Vincent's being here, the housekeeper quitting, Kate's arrival with her coworker, then leaving with Lucern. Lots, he assured himself.
Unfortunately that didn't explain why, now that things had settled down, he still wasn't feeling any particular desire for blood. Perhaps he just needed to see or actually smell the substance to stir his appetite. No doubt, once he went to his room and retrieved a bag of blood from the refrigerator built into his bed, he'd have his hunger back.
Bastien closed the chip bag, stuck it back with the rest of the food, and stood to carry it all to the kitchen. It was as he put the bag in the empty fridge that he recalled Terri stating the kitchen was empty of anything but a teapot, one cup, and tea bags. He closed the fridge door and opened a cupboard or two. Mrs. Houlihan had had her own small apartment in the back of the penthouse with a kitchen and everything, and he didn't doubt for a minute that those cupboards were full of food and dishes and whatever else outfitted a good kitchen. This one, however, was completely bare.
He should really see that it was filled up, Bastien decided. As it was, there was nothing to give Terri in the morning but tea. And cold subs, he supposed, closing the kitchen cupboards and tugging his notepad from his pocket.
He made a notation as he left the room and started up the hall to the master suite. He would put his secretary on to this task, too-when he called the office on Monday about Mrs. Houlihan, and about his taking some time off. She'd hire whoever was necessary and see that his cupboards and fridge were well stocked by the time they got back from the museum that day. In the meantime, he'd just have to take Terri out to eat. It wouldn't be a problem, as there were tons of restaurants in New York.
"Whistling and smiling too. Also signs of a man in love.»
Bastien glanced around and found Vincent leaning nonchalantly against the door to Lucern's room. His cousin stood, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with taunting amusement.
"I wasn't whistling.»
"Yes, you were.»
Bastien didn't bother denying it again. In truth, he might have been whistling as he walked up the hall; he wasn't sure. If so, it had been an unconscious act. He kind of thought he might have been smiling. It was possible. He had been feeling happy, after all; but he couldn't have been doing both. "Nobody can smile and whistle at the same time,"he argued.
"You started up the hall smiling, then began to whistle about halfway along. You were also jingling the change in your pocket,"Vincent informed him. "A classic happy-go-lucky, man-in-love action.»
"How the hell would you know?"Bastien asked with irritation.
"I'm an actor,"Vincent said with a shrug. "Knowing the outward signs of emotion is my business. I can't act like a man in love if I don't know what a man in love acts like. And you, my dear cousin, are showing all the classic first signs of a man falling in love.»
"I just met her today,"Bastien protested.
"Hmm. Love's a funny thing and often hits hard and fast. As you well know,"Vincent said solemnly. "Besides, I said falling in love-not already there.»
On that note, he turned and entered Lucern's bedroom, leaving Bastien alone in the hall. He'd been referring to Josephine when he said "As you well know."Vincent and Bastien had been close friends at the time he'd met and fallen in love with her. Vinny had witnessed Bastien's pain as Josephine had rejected him and called him a monster. Until then, Bastien had enjoyed the social whirl and the wild times the human world had to offer. It was after she broke his heart that he'd lost interest in it all and immersed himself in the family business. He had worked hard at accumulating money ever since. Money was the cornerstone of life; it never let you down or judged you; and money never said no.
Unfortunately, his close friendship with Vincent had been one of the things Bastien had let fall by the wayside in his determined drive to bury himself in the demands of business. He hadn't really noticed its absence until this evening. His cousin's teasing and cajolery tonight had reminded him of what he had been missing these last three hundred years or so. He'd been missing a lot. It was time to make up for it, but cautiously. Bastien had no desire to get his heart broken again.
CHAPTER 5
Isn't it a beautiful day?"Terri asked, sucking in a deep breath of the fetid New York air as if it were an elixir.
Bastien nodded in agreement, even managing not to grimace. "Beautiful.»
"The sun is shining. Birds are singing. I love springtime.»
She sounded like a Disney character, he thought with irritation. Next she'd break out in song. An ode to the sun.
"Sun."Bastien muttered the word as if it were a curse. How could he have forgotten about the sun? He was a bloody vampire! And yet he'd made plans and invited Terri on an outing where he would spend the day wandering outside. And sunlight was in huge supply. It was a beautiful spring day, an uncharacteristically hot and sunny spring day. Bastien wouldn't even be surprised to hear that there were people sunbathing all over the city, their skin being eaten alive by the sun's rays. As was his. The only difference was that his body was working in overdrive to continuously repair and replenish itself. Were he like others, his skin would just be aging by the minute. Instead, his body was dehydrating by the second.
On top of that, while Bastien had intended on packing a cooler full of blood to bring with him on this trip, he, the details man, had forgotten to do so. Not that this really made much difference, he supposed. He could hardly have walked around, bag of blood in hand as casually as others carried bottled water. Bastien had imagined he would just slip away every once in a while to replenish the much-needed liquid he was using at such an accelerated rate, but now that he was here, he saw how difficult that would be. He would have been reluctant to leave Terri alone in the neighborhood they were presently in.
"Bastien?"Terri asked, calling him back from his thoughts. "Are you going to stand at this table all day?»
He grimaced. This table at this particular flea market had a canvas awning, and he had been standing under it for several minutes. It was the only booth that did have one, but he couldn't stand here forever. He'd have to brave the sun again sooner or later, if only to go home. And he supposed that would be the smartest thing to do, but he really, really didn't want to end this outing so prematurely.
Bastien had woken up at six o'clock this morning and hopped eagerly in the shower, his mind on the day ahead. He'd found himself whistling as he showered and dressed, then made his way out to the living room to find Chris Keyes still on the couch, but awake and looking rumpled and miserable. It seemed the editor had suffered a fitful night on the sofa, waking and dozing off, then waking again, unable to do anything else since he didn't know which room he was supposed to have and would have had trouble getting there on his own anyway.
Bastien had listened with little interest to the man ramble about his rough night, until he heard mention that Terri was fetching a glass of water from the kitchen so that he might take another painkiller. Leaving the editor alone in the living room, he'd immediately headed to the kitchen. There Terri was rinsing out the cup she'd fetched water in the night before. While she'd run fresh water into it, Bastien had asked her about attending a couple of flea markets with him, surprised at how nervous he felt. It wasn't until she'd turned bright, interested eyes on him and told him she'd love to go that he'd felt himself relax.
Assuring her that he'd take her out to breakfast before they went anywhere, Bastien excused himself. He rode the elevator down to the floor holding the Argeneau offices, and quickly wrote up a list of instructions for his secretary to find when she arrived on Monday. He hadn't wanted to forget to have her take care of finding out if there were any relatives that Mrs. Houlihan might have gone to in the city, or to arrange for his kitchen to be stocked, and to have her cancel any business meetings scheduled for the next week. After setting the note on her desk, he'd returned to the penthouse to be informed by a sighing Chris Keyes that Terri had gone to her room to shower and change.
Bastien had been in such a good mood as he contemplated the day ahead, he'd taken pity on the editor and helped him to the room between the one Vincent was occupying and the one Terri was in. He'd even seen the man into the bathroom, waited patiently outside while he saw to his needs, then helped him out and onto the bed. He'd handed Chris the remote control to the television on the console against the wall opposite the bed, and promised he'd have someone deliver him a meal. Then Bastien fetched the gym bag full of clothes he'd gotten the night before and set it on the bed beside him, where it was within easy reach if the editor needed it.